Sia (16 page)

He frowns in the rearview mirror but then nods silently.

That’s a relief. I sit back and watch the finally familiar landscape pass as we make our way to the park. Not too long ago, I’d been there, wandering aimlessly through the streets, confused and alone. Now, I’m heading back by choice, and I’m looking for answers.

When we get to the park, John climbs out with me. He shrugs apologetically. “Sorry, Miss Sia. I’d feel more comfortable if I stayed with you.”

“
Okay,” I say. “That’s fair, but please don’t tell my parents about who I’m meeting. It’ll just cause them more needless worry. Carol is a really good friend of mine, someone who helped me out while I was gone.”

John looks skeptical but ultimately agrees.

“
Thanks. I’ll be safe. Promise.”

We walk into the park together. When we get close to the bench where I had first woken up, I almost forget he’s beside me. I can see the clear outline of Carol sitting on the bench, and I run over. “Carol!” I cry. “You had me so worried!”

Carol holds out her arms, and I run into them for a hug. I’m prepared to hold my breath, to keep out the usual stink Carol carries around with her, but I’m surprised to discover Carol has cleaned up. I smell . . . soap.

“
Ha! I had
you
worried!” she replies, hugging me back. “I didn’t know where you’d gone to, child. One minute you were in that lineup, and the next you were gone. You must have a whole load of adventures to share with me. Come on and sit yourself down.”

John stands in the distance. He now relaxes a bit, seeing who my friend is. Even so, he remains vigilant the whole time, scanning the park around me.

“
I do have a lot of stories,” I say. “But I want to hear what’s been happening with you. I looked all over for you.”

“
Yes, Tito told me. Can you believe that? He’s been talking up a storm these days! He and the others were grateful for the food you brought them last night. I’m sorry I worried you, child. You worried me, too. But good things sometimes happen when you don’t expect them. I looked everywhere for you, and along the way, I found a very nice housing center. When I couldn’t find you, I moved in there. The people are very generous and kind.” She beams. “I have a surprise to tell you, Sia.”

“
What is it?”

“
I have a job—a real paying job!”

I gasp. “That’s wonderful!”

“
Yes, I’m very, very happy about it. The people at the center found me a job at a restaurant. I even get tips.”

“
Oh, I’m so glad.”

“
Yes indeed. And I got some more good news today: Patch has finally come out of his coma. He’ll be in the hospital for a few days to recover.” A shadow passes over her face. “Those little monsters tore him up pretty bad. His face needs some reconstructive surgery, but he’ll be okay.”

Poor Patch. “Did they ever catch the kids who beat him up?”

She shakes her head. “Don’t think so.”

That means they’re still out there, still hurting people for their own entertainment. The thought makes me so angry, but I’m glad to hear that Patch survived. “I’m so glad he made it. And I really hope the police find those jerks.”

She nods. “From your lips to God’s ears, child. Now . . . ” She claps her hands together and looks me over. “Let's just check you out. Life seems to be back on track for my friend Sia. You look happy and healthy. I guess that day brought us both good luck.”

“
I guess. Yeah, sure.”

Carol squints at me. “Something happened. Start at the beginning. Where did you disappear to?”

It occurs to me that—other than Kyle’s brief interest in my life on the streets—this is the first time anyone has actually asked me what happened. Losing my memory and living on the street is the biggest thing that has ever happened to me. Yet everyone I know wants to ignore it. Now Carol, a tired, homeless woman who could never even dream of living a life like mine, sits beside me, urging me on, wanting to know, wanting to comfort. This is exactly why I had to find her. I tell her everything, starting from the moment Kyle yelled at me in the soup kitchen.

“
It really scared me—so I took off. I know I should’ve stayed and looked for you, but I panicked.” I tell Carol about the car hitting me, the first night at my family’s home, and my awkward first day at school. “It’s funny, because everyone expects me to be this Barbie doll, but I just can’t.”

“
Well, I don’t know for sure,” Carol says, “but I’d say all of that sounds pretty lucky to me. I can see there’s something else bothering you, though. Tell me why you’re hurting, child.”

I’m hesitant to complain about something that seems so inconsequential now. After all, Carol has started a new life. She has a place to live and a job. On top of that, I’m back with my family, not stuck out on the streets. We should be celebrating, not moping. But I know Carol will know exactly what to say. “I shouldn’t be unhappy about this, but you’re right—I have a problem. One that’s been eating away at me.”

Carol’s smile is warm, inviting me to pour my heart out to her.

“
My life might look perfect from the outside,” I say. “We have what everyone dreams about. Wealth. Power. Prestige. At least that’s what everyone sees. But now I know the uglier side of that life, and I don’t know what to do.” I pull an early dandelion from the base of the bench and pluck petals off one by one. “My parents are close to divorce and bankruptcy, and the stress is killing my dad and has driven my mom to alcoholism. And my friends?” I laugh without humor. “They’re all snobby, shallow bullies.”

Carol nods. “Go on.”

I swallow hard, knowing this will be the tough part. “I’m dealing with it the best I can, but I’m really struggling with myself. My old self.” I sigh. “Carol, I found out I used to be just like them. Actually, other kids are telling me . . . ” My throat thickens, but I don’t want to cry. “They say I was the worst of all of them, and no one believes me when I say I want to change all that!” My voice cracks at the end, so I give in and let the sobs come. “I don’t know what to do,” I say. “I don’t belong
anywhere
.”

“
Oh, sweet girl,” Carol coos, then holds on to me while I cry. I feel the soft pressure of her hand rubbing circles against my back. “There, there now,” Carol keeps saying. “It’s okay.”

When I run out of tears, I sit back and wipe my face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to lose it like that.”

“
Child, if you cry, it’s because you need to cry. Ain’t no reason to apologize for that.”

I sniff, feeling pathetic. “We’re a strange couple, aren’t we?” I ask. “No matter what happens, I hope the two of us can remain friends.”

She smiles. “True friendship is when two friends can walk in opposite directions, yet remain side by side.”

Her words are like poetry. “I like that.”

Carol’s smile is warm. “I think that just about covers you and me.”

I let out a deep breath. “So what should I do, Carol? I can’t seem to escape my past. The old Sia’s actions haunt me.”

A jogger runs by, followed by a small brown dog.

Carol waits until the padding feet have passed, then hooks a finger under my chin. “You can’t let the past ruin or run your future, child. You know what you were, and that means you can go forward as someone else if you want. Look at this as an opportunity.”

“
But how? I’ve done so many terrible things. How can I ever make it up to everyone?”

“
We all make mistakes, Sia. We’ve done things we ain’t proud of. But what you gotta do is look past those things. Look for opportunities to show people who you are now.”

“
Like what?”

Carol’s soft brown shoulders lift and fall. “That I can’t tell you, child. But keep your eyes open. You’ll know when those moments come to you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“
Good morning, Sia.”

I look up from my bowl of cereal. “Hey, Dad,” I say, smiling.

“
Sleep well?”

“
I did. How about you? Did you sleep okay?”

I love seeing his smile these days, so buoyant and energized. “Yeah, baby. I’m sleeping better now.”

As soon as he sits, Beatriz brings his coffee. He gives her a vague smile and she leaves again, but not before giving me a friendly wink. Dad starts to reach for his iPad out of habit, but stops himself. Instead, he has a sip of coffee and watches me over the rim of his cup.

“
What?” I ask.

“
You’re beautiful, Sia.”

I have to laugh. “Even in the morning?”

He thinks it over. “I think even more so.” His smile wavers. “Have you seen that motorcycle guy lately?”

I look away. “No. He’s not interested in me.”

“
Good.”

“
Dad!”

“
I mean . . . motorcycles aren’t safe. And I didn’t recognize him.”

“
He’s not from the usual crowd.”

“
What about Duke? What’s he think about you hanging with this guy?”

I hear Kyle’s voice again, the hurtful words he’d said, assuring Duke that he would never date anyone like me. I sigh. No, maybe not, but that doesn’t change how I feel or what I’ve done. It was the right choice. I’m certain.

“
I broke up with Duke yesterday.”

“
What? Where did that come from?”

“
Lots of places.”

“
Want to talk about it?”

I shake my head and he nods, looking a bit sheepish. “Okay. I never understand girl stuff anyway.”

I chuckle. “That’s more Mom’s department, right?”

Unspoken words stretch over the table between us and we both wait for the tension to loosen before either of us speaks. Yes, it
should
be Mom’s department, but she isn’t here. Is she all right? Will she ever be all right again? She’s been gone a week already, a long week full of questions. Mom hasn’t been allowed to communicate with her family throughout the introductory period, so both Dad and I are dying of curiosity.

It’s with mixed emotions that we accepted the invitation to meet with her today. And to attend a family counseling session. We’re both really nervous, but excited, too.

“
So, you ready for this morning?”

I swallow, then nod. “Definitely.”

“
Good. Finish up and we’ll head off.”

The smooth, sexy lines of my father’s silver Aston Martin gleam in the sunshine. As I come out of the house, I see he’s already in the driver’s seat. He has the convertible top down. I climb in beside him. I realize that this is the first time he and I have really been on our own together.

“
Did you and I hang out together before?” I ask.

He backs the car from the drive. “Not really. We were both too busy.”

I hang my elbow over the side of the car and close my eyes as he drives, loving the pure, clean feel of the wind racing through my hair. I didn’t bother to tie it up; I let it fly, whipping my face.

“
We should,” he says.

“
What?”

“
Hang out more.”

I smile at him. “Definitely.”

We stop at a traffic light beside a restaurant. I notice a “Help Wanted” sign in the window. All along the sidewalk, people are carrying briefcases or wearing suits.

“
Dad,” I say. He lifts an eyebrow. “I’ve been thinking about getting a job—you know, to help out around the house.”

The light changes and the Aston Martin rolls forward, purring in its distinctive voice. “You never wanted to do anything like that before. If you want to go out and earn some more pocket money, that's entirely up to you, but if you're talking about working to pay the bills, that really isn't necessary.”

“
I don’t mind. If it helps, I’m more than willing to work.”

“
Your job right now is to finish school, sweetheart. As for me? Well . . . ” He glances over and smiles. “I’m on the verge of buying the rights to a very promising screenplay. I’m actually talking with the writer on Sunday night at the
Vanity Fair
party after the Oscars.”

“
Really? That’s great, Dad!”

“
Yeah.” He nods with confidence. “I have a good feeling about this screenplay. It could be exactly what this company needs.”

“
I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.”

We pull into the parking lot of the rehab center, a large, white building that resembles a Deep South mansion. The place is surrounded by lavish gardens and an intricate security system. It caters to Hollywood stars and other celebrities, so their reputation depends upon keeping their clients’ identities hidden from the media. Dad and I have to show identification before we can pass through a tight security checkpoint. We park in a palm-tree-shadowed spot, then climb the stairs to reception. Dad tells the woman at the desk who we’re there to visit. She tells us to have a seat in the waiting room.