Mia's Heart

by Courtney Cole

  And when we walk out to the table, I am surprised to find Elena draped over Quinn’s arm. Her voice is stickily sweet and her boobs are pressed against him.

  Instant rage rushes through me, hot and red, but I tamper it down.

  Quinn doesn’t belong to me.

  He’s not mine.

  But my heart doesn’t seem to realize that.

  Elena glances up and sees me, then sees Reece. Her expression changes drastically as she locks eyes with Reece. She turns into an ice-bitch directly in front of my eyes.

  “Hey, farm girl,” Elena says coolly. “I didn’t know you were back in town.”

  I start to interrupt, but Reece speaks first. “And I didn’t expect to find you draped across my table.”

  Elena smiles, her gaze tunneled on Reece. “I’m not. I’m draped across your ex-boyfriend. Jealous?”

  She glances my way now and I feel frozen in place. This isn’t the girl who I spoke with in the hospital. But if I’m honest, I knew that she had this potential for bitchiness. I could sense it. And now she seems poised to strike, like a snake.

  Dante breaks in, though, his voice calm yet cool.

  “Leni,” he says warningly. I glance at him and he is staring at her, waiting. Expectant. He knows her. He has known her for a long time, so he is patient. Elena looks from him, to Reece, to me.

  And then she smiles.

  “Hi, Mia,” she says, her voice sweet now. “It’s good to see you. Would you like to come sit at our table?” She motions to her table, which is crowded with a bunch of other girls our age. They are snickering as they watch this exchange. And I realize that there is no place I’d rather be less.

  I shake my head. “No, thanks. I’m fine here.”

  Elena narrows her green eyes. “Are you sure about that? It might be better for you over there.”

  My temper snaps to life.

  “How so?” I answer, my own green eyes narrowing. Elena smiles wolfishly.

  “You’re the one who said you wanted to be friends,” she reminded me. “I told my girls that and they didn’t believe me. If you don’t sit with us, they’ll think I was lying.”

  I can feel the incredulous gazes of everyone at the table. All of them are trained on my face, all of them are waiting for me to speak.

  I swallow.

  “Elena, I’m happy to try and be your friend. But I won’t be manipulated or used as a pawn. Ever. So, right now, I’m going to stay here and eat my dinner.”

  I stare into her eyes and she stares into mine.

  And then she smiles, relenting.

  “Okay,” she says casually. As though it is no big deal at all, as if she is used to people turning her down. “If you change your mind, though, we’re over there.”

  She slides her slender hand along Quinn’s shoulders as she leaves and I want to break it. She smiles down at him.

  “Call me,” she tells him.

  I see a piece of paper in his hand and I have to assume it is her number.

  My blood boils and I think my vision blurs for a second.

  “See you later, D!” she calls to Dante over her shoulder.

  Elena is barely gone for a second before Reece marches over to Quinn and yanks the paper from his hand. She tosses it into the burning candle in the center of the table. We all watch it burn.

  “Not in this lifetime, Quinn,” Reece says. “She’s an utter bitch. You don’t need that.”

  Quinn grins, lazy and slow. “Thanks for looking out for me, Reecie,” he says. He looks amused. But his words stir something in me. And I freeze.

  “Reecie Piecie,” I murmur. I am stunned because it triggers something in my brain. Something familiar.

  Reece stares at me. “Yes,” she says excitedly. “Everyone calls me that. Do you remember?”

  And for a second, I do. I see flashes of Reece and me. We’re on the water, snorkeling, I think. She’s screaming, then laughing. The sun is shining on the water and Dante is there. We’re floating and it is peaceful and quiet and I can see why I loved the water. In my head, Reece grabs my hand and the three of us are floating in a circle.

  And then the memory stops. I can’t remember anything else.

  But I have this piece now, this fragment of my past.

  And that’s something.

  I nod.

  “I remembered something,” I tell them. I sit down and share it. Dante grins.

  “I remember that day,” he announces. “You were teaching Reece to snorkel. And I pretended to be a shark and scared the crap out of her.”

  Reece smacks at him now. “I’m still not over that!” she sniffs. “You were a jerk.”

  “But you love me anyway,” Dante tells her, rubbing at his arm. She smiles up at him.

  “That’s because you’re not normally a jerk,” she clarifies. Dante is still rubbing his arm.

  Gavin looks at me. “Was that all you remembered?”

  And I think he’s really asking, Do you remember anything about me?

  I nod. “That’s all. But I think it’s good. A memory came back. So that means that they aren’t all gone forever. Maybe the rest will come back too.”

  And while everyone else seems encouraged, Gavin seems a little pensive. And I think I know why. He’s afraid that if I remember how I felt about him before, I’m not going to feel the same about him as I do right now.

  And that’s a very valid concern.

  I’m worried about the same thing, even while Quinn is staring at me from across the table with such a stormy dark expression. The sexual tension between him and I practically crackles and I want to leap over the table into his arms.

  And then Gavin casually lays his arm over the back of my chair and his thumb rubs circles lightly on my shoulder. I glance into his eyes and I find such kindness there, such pure friendship amidst the sparkling dark depths and I gulp.

  I don’t know what, or who, I want.

  I am a mess of utter, swirling confusion.

  At this point, I honestly don’t know if I want my old memories back or if I wish they’d stay gone forever.

  As I look around the table, at the laughing and friendly faces of my friends, I’m beginning to realize that my life is pretty good right now. I might not know what I want, but I’m pretty sure that I don’t want anything to change.

  At all.

  And I know that my memories have the potential to change everything.

  Chapter Fourteen

  My bedroom has a private balcony. I think all of the bedrooms here at Giliberti House do. I’m sitting on mine tonight, alone, under the dark sky filled with twinkling stars. The night air is cool and it brushes over my skin softly, like tropical velvet fingers.

  And I’m feeling nostalgic and poetic.

  I don’t know why.

  There is a book lying open in my lap. It feels good to lose myself in someone else’s world tonight, someone else’s fictional drama. Because my own drama is too real and raw.

  There is a knock on my bedroom door, soft and light. And before I can call out, the door opens and Reece is there. She’s wearing pajamas and holding a small box.

  “I brought you something,” she announces as she crosses my room and joins me on the balcony. “You love these. They’re good for anything that ails you. You bought them for me when I was here this summer.”

  She thrusts the box into my hands and I peer inside.

  Tiny chocolate volcanoes sit amidst tissue.

  I raise an eyebrow.

  “Chocolate therapy?”

  “Is there a better kind?” she tosses back.

  “Excellent point,” I answer. I pop one into my mouth and then I almost melt into my seat. “Oh my gosh. Yummo.”

  Reece looks satisfied. “Right? I braved the scary gypsy lady for you. That’s how much I love you.”

  “Scary gypsy lady?” This intrigues me. Reece sighs.

  “The woman in town who sells these is terrifying,” she tells me. “You laugh about her, but she’s got these cl
oudy eyes that see right through a person. And she always mutters vague things about people, as if she can see our future. Last time I was here, she told me that I was strong enough to handle anything. It was like she knew what was going on in my life. It was creepy.”

  “Were you?” I ask. “Strong enough?”

  Reece looks at me, gorgeous in her blonde, girl-next-door way. She finally nods.

  “Yes. I was. And I am. It’s something I learned while I was here. Everyone is strong enough. Sometimes, they just don’t know it. You’re strong enough too.”

  “You’re very profound, you know that?” I nudge her jokingly. But honestly, I’m not joking. Reece has given me some pretty good advice so far.

  I look at her. “So, I guess my best friend is a sage, then.”

  She laughs. “I don’t know about that. But you’ve never steered me wrong, either, so I guess we’re good for each other.”

  I offer her a chocolate.

  “Thank you for being my friend,” I tell her sincerely. “Thank you for sticking with me even when I don’t remember how good of a friend you actually are.”

  Reece looks at me like I’ve suddenly grown two heads.

  “Seriously? That’s what friends do. You would do the same for me.”

  I honestly hope that is true, that I’m a good enough person for that.

  We lean back onto our chairs and stare at the stars. Reece wraps her sweater more tightly around her and then pulls something from her pocket.

  “I almost forgot,” she tells me. She hands it to me.

  A picture in a silver frame.

  It’s Dante, Gavin and me, and we’re standing in front of the sea. Sunshine bathes our bare shoulders and we’re wearing swimsuits. I have blue and green stripes in my dark hair, an interesting, peacock-like combination. It’s clear that we are having a good time because we’re all laughing. It’s a candid shot, not posed. Gavin’s eyes are twinkling and he’s bending toward me. Dante is laughing at us.

  And I wish I could remember the joke.

  But I don’t.

  Reece watches me and I feel my lips curve into a smile, simply from the happy expression on my face in the picture.

  It makes me feel warm inside.

  “Dante had this, so I had a copy made for you and framed. It was from a beach party this past summer. I love it. In fact, I love it so much that I had a copy made for me, too.”

  “Thank you,” I tell her sincerely. “Very much. It’s like you’ve handed me a piece of my life, like I have a glimpse of who I was through this picture. I love it.”

  Tears well up in my eyes and I don’t know why. I wipe at them impatiently.

  Reece looks at me sympathetically.

  “It’s okay to be upset,” she tells me. “Anyone would be. And you’re handling it so much better than most people would. Cut yourself some slack, Mi.”

  And her words make me cry.

  It’s like the barrier that I’ve built around myself lately crumbles down and I gulp at the air, sucking at it like a fish on a sidewalk as I heave in wracking sobs.

  At first Reece is shocked, then she grabs me and pulls me to her. She pats my back and murmurs soothingly to me as I cry. And surprisingly, it feels good. When I’m finally finished and I’m lying in Reece’s lap, I feel cleansed. It’s like my tears washed my anxiety away.

  At least, temporarily.

  And I decide that if Gavin was right and I never cry, I might change that. A good cry every once in a while might be a good thing. A cleansing thing.

  But I do feel bad for falling apart on Reece.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I didn’t mean to fall apart on you.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Do you know how many times I’ve fallen apart on you? Trust me, I owe you a few breakdowns.”

  I smile and nod like I know, even though we both know that I don’t.

  “You know what you need?” Reece asks. “You need some ice cream. With fudge and marshmallows. And then a bubble bath. Come on.”

  I follow her from my bedroom, down the stairs and into the kitchen. There’s a soft nightlight shining in there, like a golden beacon. I love this kitchen. It’s warm and cozy, definitely a room where a family thrives. I don’t know why I’m drawn to it like I am. But it practically feels like the pulse of this large house beats from this room.

  Reece pulls things from the cupboard and drags a couple kinds of ice cream from a large freezer.

  We make two of the biggest ice cream sundaes in the history of the world and then make our way out to the terrace. We eat our ice cream curled up on elaborate wrought iron chairs and surrounded by fragrant flowers.

  “I love it here,” Reece tells me with a sigh. “Everything is so beautiful. I’m going to lobby hard to finish our senior year here. We’re needed here anyway.”

  I look at her, at my friend who seems to have such a big heart. She’s innocently licking her spoon when I hear a deep voice from behind me.

  Quinn.

  “Is this a party and I wasn’t invited?”

  He asks this as he saunters into the gardens. I think he saunters everywhere. There’s simply no other way to describe the way he moves. It’s fluid and confident.

  And sexy.

  “Nope,” Reece tells him. “But I guess it is now. Isn’t it always a party when you’re around?” She grins at him and their manner is relaxed and easy, like two people who have grown up together, because that’s exactly who they are. They both have the same charming American accent and the same friendly way about them.

  “It’s so strange that you guys didn’t end up together,” I tell them. Reece looks over at me, startled, while Quinn laughs.

  “Did you hear that, Reecie? I told you that we were perfect together.”

  He’s kidding though and it is apparent. They are relaxed and friendly, but there is no sexual chemistry between them at and it’s hard to imagine that there ever was. Quinn nudges her shoulder, but he sits in the chair next to me. Something inside of me is happy about that, satisfied. I can smell him on the breeze, an outdoorsy man smell. I like it.

  Reece rolls her eyes.

  “I can’t date Quinn,” she tells me. “Because we know everything about each other. For example, I know that he passed out when he was giving blood last year.” She laughs again and Quinn glowers at her.

  “For the last time,” he tells her. “The doctor said that there was a real medical reason for that—a vaso-vagal nerve reflex or something.”

  Reece giggles. “Whatever, little kittie,” she laughs. “Meow!”

  I’m staring at her, wondering why the heck my seemingly sane friend is meowing at Quinn when she catches a glimpse of my face and laughs harder.

  “It’s a nice way of calling him a pussy…cat.” She tacks the last word on as an afterthought. And then I have to laugh. Because the P-word coming out of sweet little Reece’s mouth in any context just doesn’t seem right.

  And then I meow at Quinn too, just because it is funny to associate him with the P-word in any way, shape or form.

  So that is how Dante finds us a few minutes later.

  Reece and I are leaned together, meowing at big, strong Quinn under the light of the moon. We look like lunatics, I’m sure. And we most certainly sound like it. But I don’t even care. I grin up at Dante.

  “Hey, D,” I smile.