Sia (8 page)

“
Wow,” he says softly. “That must be tough.”

“
Very.” I pause. “Can I ask you something, Duke?”

“
Anything.”

“
How long have we been dating?”

He thinks for a moment. “I asked you on our first date about a year ago. The day after junior prom. But we’d known each other since second grade.”

“
After the prom? You mean we didn’t go together?”

“
No,” he says, laughing. “We both went with friends. I wanted to ask you, but I didn’t have the guts.”

I smile. “So what happened that finally gave you the courage?”

“
It’s a long story, babe.”

“
I have time. Besides, it might help me remember.”

“
Okay,” he agrees, looking thoughtful. “Well, after prom, our group went to Malibu Beach. It was late, but we were having so much fun, you know? There was music, dancing, laughing, so we didn’t care what time it was. Anyway, at sunrise, people started swimming. You and Stacy got in the water.” He shakes his head, looking as if he doesn’t want to go on. “All of a sudden, Stacy started screaming bloody murder. I ran over to find out what happened, and she said a rip current had dragged you out. So I took a boogie board and swam out to get you. It took several minutes to reach you. The waves were strong, but I eventually got there. You were crying hysterically, completely out of strength.”

I stare at him, slightly breathless. “You saved me?” I manage.

“
That’s what you said after we swam back.” Smiling, he adds, “Then you kissed me.”

“
And
that
was when you asked me out?”

He nods. “Yeah. We’ve been the golden couple since. We’re perfect together. You being the captain of the cheerleading squad. And me being the star quarterback of the football team.” He takes my hand in his and kisses it. “Everybody wishes they were us.” He chuckles. “Can you blame them? We’re totally perfect.”

“
That does sound perfect,” I admit. Problem is, I can’t stand the thought of being a cheerleader anymore.

“
Yeah. It is. And you and I
get
each other, ya know? Like, you totally know what I’m thinking. You tell me all the time that you love me, and I love you, too. I really do. It’ll all come back to you. Trust me. Nobody forgets me forever!”

I don’t move when he closes the final distance between us and hugs me, resting his chin on the top of my head. I close my eyes. I’m torn between feeling trapped and feeling safe. I want to run, and at the same time I want to bury myself in his strong arms forever.

“
Oh, Sia,” he says gruffly.

How sweet, I think.

“
I’ve been lonely without you.” He draws back so he can look down at me. Then he proves how lonely he’s been by completely smothering me with his lips. I try to relax into the kiss, to welcome it, but instead, I feel uneasy. It’s a relief when he steps away. I smile at him, hoping he can see the apology in my eyes.

He doesn’t seem to notice. The sad, lonely, emotional Duke is now matter-of-fact. And looking quite pleased with himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sia. And don’t worry. It’ll all be fine.”

That night, as I climb into the softest bed I ever could have imagined, my mind is in turmoil. “Fugue Amnesia,” I say out loud, repeating the doctor’s diagnosis. He’d said the condition was the result of too much stress, but I haven’t seen anything stressful about my old life. As far as I can tell, I was living a fairy tale before I woke up in the park. I live in a gorgeous mansion with wealthy parents who work in the movie industry, and I’d caught a glimpse of my sweet red BMW convertible earlier. We even have a private pool. Obviously, I have caring friends, a stud of a boyfriend, and I must to be popular; I’m captain of the cheerleaders, of all things!

What could have been so stressful that it had brought on this amnesia?

It makes no sense. Nothing does.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sun streams into my bedroom, warming my eyelids and welcoming me to a new day. Then I remember what kind of new day this is going to be. A tremor of unease passes through me. School. Kids, teachers, classes . . . things every girl should know like the back of her hand. Not me. This is going to be tough, and I know it. Still, there’s no sense in staying in bed all day.

I throw back the sheets and plod into my bathroom. I turn on the shower and let the hot water wake me more fully.

“
I’m going to be just fine,” I declare as I step out and wrap myself in towels.

My closet is not helping. I wander through the racks, peeking at blouses and dresses, frowning at ridiculously high skirt lengths and low necklines. How am I supposed to go out like that? I frown at the selection. I’d found a slightly more modest shirt yesterday, but now I can’t remember where I put it. In the end, I pull on a pair of pink jeans and a snug white t-shirt edged with pink sequins. I frown at the dozens of high-heeled shoes and boots on display in their own shelves. Luckily, I spy a pair of pink sneakers hidden away.
Pink
sneakers. Apparently, I’d had a thing for pink.

It’s not that I’ve developed a dislike for pink. It’s just that I haven’t really had time to decide on a new favorite color yet. And I think I stand a chance of overdosing on all the pink in my closet.

“
Sia! Breakfast!”

I glance in the mirror, give my wet hair another quick brush, then head downstairs. My parents are already seated at the table. They look up when I come in.

“
Good morning, sweetheart,” my father says, rising.

Still unsure, I let him lean in and give me a kiss on the cheek. “Good morning, Dad,” I say.

“
See?” Mom says, smiling at her husband. “She called you ‘Dad.’”

One dark eyebrow lifts and he shrugs. “I kinda like that.”

My mother isn’t convinced. “Yeah, well, she has to call you Ray if she calls me Janet.”

I guess she hasn’t noticed that I can’t quite get my mouth to say “Janet.” They’re just going to have to get used to being called Mom and Dad.

“
Whatever Sia wants is fine with me.” He turns back to me. “How did you sleep? Does it feel like home yet?” he asks, his eyes shining with hope.

I hate to disappoint him, but I shake my head. “I slept wonderfully, but I still don’t remember anything.”

“
Oh well,” he says. “Soon. Have a seat. Breakfast is on its way.”

“
Mmm. Smells great.” I glance at my mother, but she is tapping on an iPad, oblivious. I turn back to Dad. “You know what I keep thinking?”

“
What?” he asks.

“
That if I hadn’t gotten hit by a car, I’d be lined up at a soup kitchen right now.”

He lets out a quick breath and checks to make sure Mom isn’t listening. “Your mother told me. What an experience you must have had. I’m so sorry we weren’t there for you.”

I shrug. “It wasn’t so bad. At least I met some really interesting people.”

My mother clears her throat delicately.

Dad’s mood changes. “I’m sure you did, but now that you’re home, you won’t have to think about all that anymore. Are you looking forward to school?”

“
Not really,” I admit. “I’m actually kind of scared.”

“
Maybe it’ll help your memory.”

“
I hope so. It’s really weird, living in a whole new world like this. Especially going from the street to pure heaven in this house.”

Beatriz appears, carrying a silver tray.

I inhale the sweet spice of French cinnamon crêpes. “Thank you, Beatriz. This looks great.”

The maid’s mouth quirks in a half smile, but she doesn’t say anything. She sets the last plate in front of my father and disappears back into the kitchen.

“
Tell me about your work, Dad. What kinds of movies have you produced?”

My parents exchange a quick glance.

“
Mostly dramas and action films,” he replies. He smiles. “A few years ago,
Dinner at Eight
came out. That actually won an Oscar for cinematography. Which reminds me. I oughtta give Frank a call and invite him for lunch sometime.” His attention drops to his iPad. He swipes across a few pages and starts tapping notes to himself.

“
Crossbones
also did well,” Mom muses, then narrows her eyes at Dad, sitting across the table from her. “But that was ten years ago.”

He doesn’t seem to notice, having been sucked into his iPad. He gives a noncommittal nod and sips on his coffee.

“
Sia,” my mother says, “I thought you might want to leave your car at home today.” She smiles warmly. “If you can’t remember your family, I’m sure you can’t remember the route to school.”

I grin. “That’s a good guess. I’m still having trouble finding my own bedroom.”

“
Well, it’ll all come back. We all just have to believe that.” She grabs a cell phone on the table between us and holds it out. “This is yours, Sia.” She taps on it. “Here’s our number in case you need anything.” From out of her wallet, she hands me a wad of twenty-dollar bills. “Here’s for lunch. I think that’s everything. Am I missing anything that you can think of?”

I count ten of the bills. “Mom, this is two hundred dollars. That’s
way
more than I need.” That could have fed me for a month when I was homeless. I try to hand back all the bills but one, but she stops me.

“
It doesn’t matter, Sia. Just spend it on lunch or whatever.” She looks up, and we both spot Beatriz by the door, holding my backpack. “Looks like your ride’s leaving.”

Amber and Stacy are waiting at the school’s entrance when my driver, John, pulls up. Behind them swarms a group of a dozen or so girls, all bouncing and hugging and squealing. The cheerleader squad, I assume. The sight of them waiting there, the knowledge that I am the source of all this excitement, almost overwhelms me. I stare out the window, both terrified and entranced. What kind of person had I been to earn so much love? I must have been something really special.

“
Thanks, John,” I say, leaning forward.

The reflection of his eyes in his rearview mirror shows surprise. “Uh . . . you’re welcome, Miss Holloway.”

Then I step from the car, excitement and dread whirling through me. Amber is the first to greet me, but her face is tight with disapproval. “Sia, what are you doing?” she whispers. “Did you forget your makeup?”

“
Sia!” someone screams. “Yay! You’re here!”

“
Remember what I said, girls,” Amber commands. “Tell her your name when you say hi. She doesn’t remember any of you.”

One by one, the girls come up to hug me, tell me their names, and gush in my ear about how much they’ve missed me, how worried they’ve been, and how glad they are that I’m back.

“
The squad just wasn’t the same without you,” one girl whispers. “I mean, Amber’s good, but she’s not you!”

“
Oh my God. I
love
those pink jeans, Sia. They’re so you.”

“
I really like your hair like that, Sia,” chirps another. “Trying to bring back the grunge, huh? You’re always such a trendsetter!”

“
All right, ladies, show’s over,” Amber declares, waving the group away. “Stacy, you and Kim take Sia inside and make her a little more . . . presentable.”

I frown. “But—”

“
Don’t argue, Sia. I can’t
believe
you’d show up here like this. Really. Makeup, hair . . . I guess we can’t do much with those shoes, but I have some earrings you can borrow.”

She’s gotta be kidding.

She looks up at the girls still hovering around us and demands, “Anyone got size eight shoes Sia can borrow for today?”

“
Amber!” I exclaim, then shake my head at the girls, some of whom are already taking their shoes off. “No thanks. Really. I’m fine like this.”

Paying no attention, Amber accepts a pair of tall white heels from a buxom redhead, then glares at the group. After they quickly disperse, Amber hands me the shoes.

“
Put these on.”

This is ridiculous. The shoes dangle from my fingertips. “I don’t need these.”

Amber tilts her head and blinks prettily, her plump red lips spreading into a slow, sexy smile. She speaks slowly, as if she needs to explain it carefully to me. “Nonsense, honey. We can’t have Duke—and the rest of the school—seeing you like this.”

Stacy hooks one arm through mine and leads me inside the school. “Come on, Sia. Let’s go play,” she says, obviously taking her role as caretaker seriously. Along the way, she points and gestures, whispering noisily behind her hand or calling out a cheery greeting to someone. Her wide brown eyes constantly flit from person to person, dancing with more gossip she’s dying to share.