Authors: Josh Grayson
I wipe more condensation off the mirror and stare at my reflection. Who is this girl? She’s pretty, for sure; it’d be false modesty to deny what they all say. I have bright blue eyes like my mother and thick blonde hair that falls halfway down my back. My complexion is just about flawless, and I’m sure that after a few days away from living under a bridge, out of the elements, it’ll improve even more. My figure is one most girls would envy. That must be why I felt the need to show it off in such tight, short clothing. My beauty is natural, something I was born with. My parents are gorgeous, so it only makes sense. So why did I have to worry so much about my makeup and hair? It looks like I was almost obsessive.
With a sigh, I grab a simple hair elastic and pull my hair into a ponytail that trails down my back, then head to my room to get dressed. The outfit is tight and tiny, just like I’d expected, but Beatriz had said it was as casual as I ever got. I consider looking around for some sweats or something, but the rich aroma of cooking food drifts up the stairs and works its way under my door. Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I head downstairs.
CHAPTER NINE
“
Ah. There she is,” my mother says as I walk into the dining room. The table is immaculately set with white linen napkins and silverware. Strangely, it appears only my mother and I are eating. Seems like a lot of effort for just the two of us.
“
Is someone coming over?” I ask.
“
Why do you ask?” she says, frowning.
“
Uh, I don’t know. I just wondered why everything is so fancy.”
My mother, still frowning, scans the table and shakes her head. “This is normal, Sia. Just sit and eat.” She squints at me. “Why didn’t you do your face while you were up there? You hardly look like yourself.”
“
You mean makeup?”
“
Of course.”
“
I . . . I just didn’t feel like it. That’s okay, isn’t it?”
She regards me strangely, as if I’ve said the oddest thing. “I guess so. I’m just not used to seeing you this way. You didn’t even dry your hair. Are you planning to go swimming later?”
“
Swimming?”
“
Sure.” She sighs, but her smile is apologetic. “I keep forgetting that I’ll have to explain everything to you all over again. We have a pool at the other end of the house. You can swim there whenever you want. You and your friends. You might also want to play tennis.”
“
I play tennis?”
“
You used to be quite good,” she says. “But you’ve been a bit too busy lately to keep it up. Oh, you have a car, too.”
“
I do?”
“
Of course. It’s in the garage. You probably don’t remember, but your dad and I gave it to you for your last birthday.”
The source of the aroma arrives. I stare in disbelief at a plate of filet mignon and sautéed vegetables as it’s set in front of me. Definitely not soup kitchen fare. I wonder what Carol is eating, if anything.
“
You know,” I say, “if I was still on the street, I’d be eating just about anything I could find. Even moldy bread. Those people out there can’t even imagine this kind of feast.” The thought of bringing Carol a plate of food crosses my mind, but I know I’d have to be secretive about it. Mom has made it clear that she doesn’t want me seeing Carol again, let alone feeding her.
She taps her thumb and finger together in what I’m starting to recognize as a nervous habit. “Sia, dear, can we please not discuss your homeless friends over lunch? I’m trying to eat.”
It’s almost like a slap, being cut off that way, and I swallow a retort. Here I am, thinking we’d be able to talk as a family about what had happened to me, that I could share my experiences. Evidently, that isn’t going to happen. I blink at my plate, fighting back unreasonable tears, and briefly consider not eating just to make a statement.
Who am I kidding? I’m starving. I practically lick my plate clean and welcome the decadent soufflé Beatriz carries out afterwards.
I feel like a complete pig, but it’s delicious. I sigh, perfectly content, then turn to my mother. “I have a stupid question to ask.”
“
Go ahead, dear. You know what they say. There’s no such thing as a stupid question,” she says cheerfully. Apparently, her mood improves after eating.
“
Why are we so wealthy?”
Her smile flickers. “We own a film company.”
“
Wow. A film company right here in Los Angeles? That must be exciting.”
“
Yes, it can be. And we’ve produced some blockbuster movies in the past. Unfortunately, with the state of the economy . . . things have been a little more difficult. But your father’s always out there working on the next big hit. And,” she says, giving me a wide smile, “we’re getting closer to nailing down a role for you.”
“
Huh?”
“
Yes! You don’t even remember that? You’ve always wanted to be an actress, darling.”
“
What? As in movie acting?” I’m shocked.
Mom frowns, impatient. “Of course. What else could I be talking about?”
“
I’ve got no intentions of being an actress!” I exclaim. “Being in front of millions of people? No thanks. Maybe I did before, but I sure don’t want to now. Let’s forget about that.”
At that moment, we could have heard a pin drop.
My mother’s mouth hangs half open. “Uh . . . I see. I’ll speak with your father tonight, then.”
“
Great. Thanks.” I put my head down and finish the rest of my meal in silence. A part of me feels slightly guilty; I should be grateful to my parents for trying to help me follow a dream, but it isn’t a dream I have anymore. Thing have changed, and the idea of acting terrifies me.
When we’re finished with lunch, Beatriz magically appears to take our dishes.
I smile up at her. “That was delicious, Beatriz. Thank you so much. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything quite so yummy.”
Both my mother and Beatriz watch me, looking unsure.
“
Yes, you have,” Mom informs me. “I mean, well, we don’t eat as much red meat anymore, but I thought this was somewhat of a special occasion.”
Huh. This was pretty standard? I could get used to that. “Well, I loved it. Thank you both so much.”
“
You’re . . . welcome, Miss Holloway,” Beatriz finally says, then leaves the room wearing a small smile.
I can see my mother—I’m really having a hard time remembering her first name—watching me, confused. I feel bad. This has to be hard for her. Seeing so much change all at once. Then again, it’s even harder for me, and she’s not making it any easier. I need my mother’s help, not her disapproval.
“
I’d like to go to school tomorrow,” I tell her.
“
Really? Tomorrow’s Wednesday. I thought you’d like to take a few more days off to relax, maybe see if your memory comes back. You can go back on Monday.”
“
The doctor says the best way to get that happening is for me to resume my normal routine. I think I should start with school.”
She nods. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
The kitchen door opens again. Beatriz pops her head through. “Miss Holloway? You have some visitors waiting in the great room.”
CHAPTER TEN
“
Sia? Oh my God!”
“
Sia! Are you all right? Oh. My.
God!”
Before I have a chance to say anything, I’m hugged fiercely by the two girls from the photos in my room. They’re both dressed as if they’ve just stepped out of my own closet.
“
Oh my God!” the blonde squeals again, as if they are the only three words in her vocabulary. She steps back and tucks her long, shiny hair behind one ear. A diamond glints, sparking off the light in the room. “I can’t even
believe
what happened to you! Are you all right?”
“
Yeah, sort of.”
“
We were so
worried
, Sia!” gushes the other girl, her big brown eyes looking imploringly into mine. “Everyone’s been talking about it. The rumors were crazy. Some people thought your disappearance was a publicity stunt for a show or movie.”
My mother steps into the room behind me. “Girls, remember what I told you?”
“
Yeah,” says the blonde, and I can’t help noticing the snide tone of her voice. “So?”
The click-clacking of my mother’s heels on the marble floor saves me from saying something that might have gotten me into trouble. She hooks her arm around my waist. “
So
,” she replies, using the same tone as the girl’s, “she has no idea who you are.”
The girls’ eyes pop open, as do their mouths, and they look me over in an entirely new way.
“
So that’s why you look so different,” the smaller girl mutters. “You forgot how to use makeup.”
“
Get
out!
” says the blonde, ignoring her friend, then giggling a little. Her blue cat eyes crinkle at the sides. “Well, I’m Amber Van de Camp, your best friend. Surely you remember me, right?”
The question is rhetorical, which is good, because I have no idea how to respond.
“
I’m Stacy Powers,” volunteers the bubbly brunette, her curls bouncing halfway down to her elbows. She suddenly gasps and bursts into tears. “The three of us are like, total besties together. Oh my God, Sia. I would totally
die
without you.”
Amber shoots her a glance, sharp with disapproval. “It’s okay, Stace. I got this.”
Stacy nods quickly and carefully dabs her tears away, her eyes puppy-like with adoration. I can see why. Amber is truly gorgeous. Her blonde hair is full of glistening highlights, and her slightly slanted blue eyes are painted with just the right mascara and liner to make them pop like sapphires. Her heels can’t be any shorter than four inches, I figure, taking in Amber’s tiny skirt, crop top and the diamond studs in her ears.
“
Amber took over for you on the cheerleading squad while you were away,” Mom says, her smile tight. “I’m sure you’ll be relieved when Sia gets back to work, won’t you, Amber? The squad needs a good captain.”
Is it my imagination, or do I see something dark flicker at the back of Amber’s eyes? It vanishes just as quickly. She and Mom hold each other’s stares. Ah. I see.
Amber nods stiffly. “Of course.”
“
Oh yeah,” Stacy says, sniffing. “Everyone’s missed her so much.”
Amber is the picture of martyrdom. “But I’d be happy to lead the squad until you get your memory back.”
I nod, relieved beyond belief. Cheerleader? I can only imagine that: performing cartwheels and flips in front of a whole stadium of people. What a nightmare. “Sure. Cool.”
“
Girls?” Mom says. “Let’s give Sia a little time with Duke, shall we?”
“
Duke?” Who the heck is Duke?
“
Okay, but Sia?” Stacy says, grabbing my hand. “We’re all gonna help you through this, okay? That’s what friends do. So we’ll see you at school tomorrow, right?”
I nod. Amber gives me a meaningful wink, then follows Mom and Stacy out the front door. “Duke should be able to coax a little memory out of her,” Amber tosses over her shoulder.
A guy who I assume is Duke is leaning against the wall on the other side of the room, quietly watching me. I blink. He is . . . unbelievably handsome. Short blond hair and movie-star blue eyes. His smile is gentle but confident. The muscles in his chest and arms are clearly defined through his clean white t-shirt. When he walks toward me, I actually feel a little guilty. As if I’m about to have an intimate chat with someone else’s boyfriend. How can a guy this perfect be mine?
“
Hey, baby,” he says, his low voice teasing a little. “Remember me?”
I shake my head, afraid to say anything. He’s only a few feet away from me now. The magnetism of his gaze is almost tangible. I swallow and brace myself.
He walks toward me, his pace smooth and confident. Like a panther on the prowl. “I can only imagine how strange everything must be for you.”
I nod, still mute, caught off guard by the sympathetic, godlike figure.
He keeps walking until he’s a foot away from me, then looks down and gives me a gentle smile. “I’m glad you’re back. It totally sucked without you. I was like, ‘Where’s Sia?’ you know?” He grins, laughing at himself.
I smile.
“
But don’t you worry, baby. I’m gonna give you all the time you need to remember stuff. I mean, you know.” He huffs, then smiles widely. “Not like
forever
, though.” He laughs, a full, confident sound.
I smile along with him, even though I’m not sure what he’s talking about. “Thanks.” I search his eyes, hoping something there will snap my memory back into place. I would very much like to remember being with him, but there’s nothing. No revelation. No flood of memories. I give him a sad sort of smile. “I . . . I’m sorry, Duke. I don’t remember anything about you. That sounds awful, but it’s true. I’m sure my memory will come back soon, and when it does, I’ll probably die of embarrassment, but as of this moment, I don’t have a clue.”