by Amber Garza
It’s now or never.
“Hey!” The word burst out of Lauren’s mouth at a way higher decibel than she’d anticipated. It was like turning on a car after someone else had been in it and not realizing that they’d been blasting the music. Amelia flinched, clearly startled. Lauren lowered her volume, dialing it way down. “I um...I’ve been...” she scratched the back of her neck, suddenly itchy all over as if she had plunged into the pool and the chlorine had stuck to her flesh “...um...wanting to show you something for a while now.”
Amelia adjusted her position, turning slightly in Lauren’s direction and hugging her knees to her chest. “Okaaay.” She dragged out the word with a note of apprehension.
Lauren didn’t blame her. It was definitely a weird segue. She didn’t remember any of the people on the clips she’d watched starting their conversations this way. Maybe what she was missing was a camera crew, and a script. Yes, that’s what she needed. Lines to follow. Preferably written by someone else.
It was too late for that. She swallowed thickly.
She tugged the hair tie off her wrist. Reaching up, she scooped her hair off her neck, fashioning it into a ponytail at the top of her head. Then she craned her neck, exposing the right side.
Amelia sucked in a breath. “Oh, my God. That’s so weird. You have the same birthmark as me.” She brushed her hair back, revealing hers.
“I know,” Lauren said, facing her. It felt good to have her thick hair off her neck and back. Normally, she sported a ponytail, but up until now she couldn’t do that around Amelia. When Amelia’s face scrunched up in a look of confusion, Lauren continued, “’Cause we’re related.”
“What are you talking about?”
Lauren thought she’d ease Amelia in, but now she wished she’d just ripped the Band-Aid off. We’re related? Really? That sounded so stupid. It could mean anything. Distant cousins, even.
“We’re sisters,” she blurted out.
Surprising her, Amelia laughed. “Oh, my God. I totally thought you were serious for a minute.” She stood, her legs already dry.
Lauren’s were still in the water. She hoisted them out and then scrambled to stand too. Liquid ran down her calves, pooled at her ankles.
Amelia slipped on her sandals. “What do you wanna do tonight? Maybe watch a mo—”
“I am serious,” Lauren interrupted, knowing if she didn’t finish this conversation now she’d lose her nerve. They’d go upstairs, watch a movie, make some food and pretty soon they’d be past the point of no return. It would be like that time she called the new girl at school Patty for several weeks before another friend corrected her, telling her the girl’s name was Addie. By then, she felt like she was in too deep, and proceeded to call her Patty for the rest of the year.
Amelia looked up from her shoes. “It’s just a birthmark, Lauren,” she practically whispered.
“No, it’s not.” She explained it all then. About the baby with the matching birthmark, and how the baby who died didn’t have one. And then she told her about finding Whitney on social media and discovering Amelia. With each measured word, Amelia created more distance between them. By the time she finished, Amelia was several feet away, her eyes wide with disbelief. Or maybe it was terror.
Either way, her reaction was nothing like the clips Lauren had watched.
Where were the tears? The hugs? The squeals of delight?
“No.” Amelia shook her head. “There’s no way. You’ve got it all wrong.”
“I don’t,” Lauren said firmly. “I know I’m right. You’re my sister.”
“Stop saying that.” Amelia reached for the latch on the gate behind her. “Just leave me alone.” She swung the gate open so hard, it crashed against the side. Amelia took off running.
“Dammit.” Lauren shoved her feet into her sandals, stabbing her big toe into the straps in the process. “Amelia, wait!” she hollered, running after her. There was no way she could leave it like this. If she did, Amelia might tell Whitney.
And Lauren couldn’t let that happen.
So, she chased her down, forced her to listen. Amelia still didn’t believe Lauren that day, but she at least agreed to a DNA test. And more than that, she agreed to keep all of it between the two of them for the time being.
But one thing had been very clear to Lauren: Amelia loved Whitney, no matter what. Even if she could prove that Amelia was her sister—prove that Whitney had kidnapped her—she wasn’t sure that Amelia would ever be comfortable turning her in to the police. And Lauren already loved Amelia too much to make her do it.
The road trip idea was one the girls had brainstormed together. Lauren could never let Amelia know how she’d funded the trip, though. She’d be so upset.
Lauren pulled into the apartment complex and drove around the lot. When she passed Whitney’s space, she found it empty, just like she thought she would. Amelia had mentioned her mom would be on a date tonight. But Lauren needed to be sure.
Driving back out onto the street, she parked along the curb. After turning off the car, she stepped out, securing her purse on her shoulder. She waited for a break in traffic and then ran across in her tennis shoes. It wasn’t until she got to the stairs that she remembered.
Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her glasses, stuck them on her face. Then she unfastened her hair tie, allowing her hair to fall down her back and shoulders. Slipping her hair tie on her wrist, she started making her way up the stairs.
She had to stop a couple of times to regain her balance. The glasses caused her to feel slightly disoriented, her spatial awareness impaired. Usually, she tried to wear them for a little while before coming over to get used to them. Tonight, she’d been so impatient she’d almost forgotten them entirely.
Stay focused, Lauren, she chastised herself.
Once she reached the front door, she smoothed her hair down around her neck, pasted on a smile and knocked.
She heard movement inside almost immediately, but the door didn’t open. To her left, Amelia’s eyes peeked through the blinds. When she saw it was Lauren, the blinds clicked back in place and the front door popped open.
“Lauren! Hi. I wasn’t expecting you,” she said, her tone happy and a grin on her face.
“Hey.” Lauren matched her smile. “My mom was out, and I remember you saying your mom was going out, so I thought I’d stop by. I hope it’s okay. I probably should’ve called first, huh?”
“No, it’s fine. I’m just chillin’, anyway.” Amelia ushered her inside.
A blanket was tossed on the couch, a bowl of popcorn beside it. The television was paused in the middle of what looked like a rom-com movie.
“Millie’s chillin’,” she said in a singsong way.
“Millie?” Amelia raised a brow.
Lauren nudged her with her elbow. “Yeah, it’s a nickname for Amelia, right?”
“I guess. It’s just that no one’s ever really called me by a nickname before.”
“Then it can be our thing,” Lauren said, even though she didn’t really want it to be. She didn’t want to call Amelia that. She just wanted to see the look on Whitney’s face when she did.
“What will I call you?” Amelia asked.
Lauren shrugged. “There’s not really any good nickname for Lauren.”
“Challenge accepted.” Amelia smiled, her gaze flickering over to the paused TV. “I was watching The Kissing Booth, but we can watch something else if you want.”
Romance movies had never been Lauren’s thing, but she could tell Amelia wanted to finish watching it. And, really, she’d been the one to barge in. “No, it’s fine. That sounds fun.”
“Cool. Can I get you anything?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Okay.” Amelia made her way back to the couch. Scooping up the blanket, she sat down, setting it in her lap. “I can share my blanket
if you want. And help yourself to some popcorn.”
“Thanks.” Lauren sat beside her as she unpaused the movie.
Lauren didn’t take her up on the blanket offer but did take a handful of the popcorn. She didn’t come here to watch a movie, but she made the most of it. Leaning back on the couch, she chewed popcorn and watched some teenage girl pine away over an older boy.
After about a half an hour, she was getting restless. She’d come here for a purpose and she wasn’t sure how much time she had left. Whitney could come home at any time. “Um...I’m just gonna use the restroom,” she said.
“Okay.” Amelia reached for the remote. “You want me to pause it?”
“No, you go ahead and finish. I’ve seen it before,” she lied.
“Oh, you should’ve told me. We could’ve watched something else.”
“It’s cool. I rewatch movies all the time.” Another lie.
Amelia nodded, then turned her attention back to the TV.
Lauren scooted off the couch and made her way down the hallway. Going into the bathroom, she clicked the door closed. What now?
She opened the door, trying not to make any noise, and tiptoed to the edge of the hall. Amelia was engrossed in the movie.
This was her window.
Lauren crept across the hall into Whitney’s room. She wasted no time, running straight to the middle drawer of the dresser. She’d found this envelope filled with cash when she was in here trying to find something to use for the DNA test.
“Lauren?” Amelia’s voice rang out.
After shoving the money into her pocket, she whipped around, heart hammering in her ears.
Amelia stood in the doorway, eyebrows raised. “What’s going on?”
“Um...I uh...I started my period and I don’t have anything...you know.”
“Oh, you should have just asked. I’ll go grab you something.” Amelia smiled and skipped off, leaving a sour taste in Lauren’s mouth. She hated lying to Amelia.
But she hadn’t had a choice. That money in the envelope, along with the money Amelia had in her bank account, was enough to keep them going for at least a month.
After that, they could decide what to do.
The truth was that, as badly as Lauren wanted Whitney to pay for what she did, she knew that if Whitney was arrested, Amelia wouldn’t be able to stay with Lauren. She’d probably end up with her dad or grandparents or something. So, she planned to make the most of this time with her newfound sister. Her family.
35
SUNDAY, 6:45 A.M.
OVER THIRTY-SEVEN HOURS
AFTER DROP-OFF
AMELIA STARED DOWN at the gravestone. Weird how an entire life could be relegated to nothing more than a slab of concrete, a name crudely etched into it. Birth and death dates below. A few kind words—“Devoted wife and mother.” Like that was all that mattered. Like that was all Millie did that deserved recognition.
She’d been a living, breathing person. Had been on this earth for twenty-plus years, and this was all she’d left.
Cemeteries had always freaked Amelia out. The thought of ending up here, buried deep in the soil with the worms and insects, made her skin crawl. She shivered, ran her hands up her arms. Sniffed.
Lauren threw her a sympathetic look, draped an arm over her shoulder. She felt bad then. Lauren had misread her reaction, clearly thinking she was sad. And she was kind of. This place made her feel that way, but it had nothing to do with Millie. Not personally, anyway. As much as Lauren believed Millie was Amelia’s mom, to Amelia she was nothing more than a stranger. A woman she’d never met.
It was creepy that this was the way they were being introduced.
Hello, slab of concrete. I might be your daughter. Nice to meet you.
If anyone had told her two months ago that this was where her friendship with Lauren would lead, she wouldn’t have believed them. Meeting Lauren had felt random. Not calculated. They’d met in the most natural way. A party at Michael’s.
Lauren had come with Craig, one of Michael’s friends. Amelia had been relieved when she arrived. Up until that point, she’d been the only girl there. She’d been sitting on a bench outside by herself, nursing a beer and texting Becca.
Come over. I’m bored.
Becca’s response came almost immediately: Where are you?
Michael’s. He’s having a party.
The seconds ticked by. Amelia waiting on the little dots. Finally, after at least a minute, they appeared. She took a sip of her beer. It was warm. Bitter. The dots disappeared. Amelia shifted on the bench. Crossed and uncrossed her legs.
Why was Becca taking so long to respond? It was so unlike her.
Finally, the dots returned. Amelia exhaled.
Sorry. Can’t. Busy tonight.
Her mouth was paper dry. She took another sip of the too-warm beer. Ever since she’d introduced Becca to Michael, she’d been weird. It pissed Amelia off. How many times had she tagged along with Becca to meet some guy or another? But it shouldn’t come as a shock. Becca was only happy when the world revolved around her.
“Oh, thank God.” A raspy, female voice interrupted her thoughts. “I thought I was the only girl here.”
Amelia’s head snapped upward. A tall, large girl loomed over her. Her hair was long, thick. There was a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose. She was fresh-faced, wearing hardly any makeup, a pair of glasses perched on her nose.
“Me too,” Amelia responded, glancing around. Where was Michael, anyway? He’d gone into the apartment to get beers a while ago. Hers was almost empty. She set it down on the ground.
“Go!” a male voice shouted to Amelia’s right and cheering ensued.
Oh, there was Michael. He and a couple of his friends were shotgunning beers. Amelia cringed as foamy beer shot into his mouth, concurrently spraying him in the face. She’d only done it once. It was like drowning in a sea of bitter foam.
Sighing, she slumped back on the bench.
The strange girl plunked down next to her so hard Amelia almost shot upward.
“They’re not even doing it right,” she muttered. “I could take all of ’em.”
Amelia laughed. When she’d told Becca she’d shotgunned a beer, she’d rolled her eyes. Told her that was stupid. Not that she was surprised. Amelia could never picture Becca cutting a slit into a can of beer, popping the top and shooting the liquid into her mouth, possibly getting it all over her face or hair. She was way too girlie for any of that.
But she could picture this girl doing it. Even though they’d just met, Amelia could tell she was completely opposite from Becca. And maybe that was why she instantly felt drawn to her.
“I’m Lauren, by the way.” She brought the silver can to her lips, took a long pull.
“Amelia,” she replied. “Who’d you come with?” She was curious. She’d never seen Lauren before.
“Craig.”
“Which one is he?” Amelia scanned the playground area, her gaze sweeping over the cluster of guys huddled together. The cheering had died down. Now there was only sparse laughter. Chatter. Michael wiped his face with the back of his hand.
“The guy who lost and is now puking in the bushes.” She shook her head.
Amelia bit her lip, trying to stifle a giggle, but when Lauren started laughing, she joined in.
“I’m here with Michael,” Amelia finally said when their laughter died down. She bobbed her head in his direction. “The guy who won.”
“Ah.” Lauren raised one appreciative eyebrow. “Is he your boyfriend?”
Amelia flushed. They hadn’t defined their relationship. Mostly because she had to sneak around to see him. If only her mom wasn’t so overprotective, then she could date like every other girl her age.
“Sort of. Is Craig yours?”
“God, no,” Lauren sai
d.
Again, Amelia laughed. It felt good, rolling around in her mouth, sweet like chocolate. She tucked her phone into the pocket of her shorts. “Wanna grab a drink with me? My beer’s pretty much empty.” Standing, she bent down to pick up her hollow can.
“Sure.” Lauren stood with her.
As they walked off together, she left all thoughts of Becca lying on the abandoned bench.
She and Lauren exchanged phone numbers at the end of the night. And by the next day Amelia had gotten a text from Lauren asking if she wanted to hang out again. She couldn’t help but notice Becca’s radio silence. Determined not to let it bug her, she started hanging out more with Lauren. It felt serendipitous that she’d dropped into Amelia’s life at the moment when she’d needed a friend.
But it wasn’t serendipitous at all.
Fate hadn’t brought them together.
Apparently, this woman had. This strange, dead woman. Frowning, Amelia turned away from the gravestone, shaking off Lauren’s hand. Wind kissed her cheek, cool and damp.
“You ready?” Lauren asked. Her eyes were glazed, her nose red.
Amelia forced a nod, even though her stomach twisted. When Lauren first brought up the idea for their road trip, it had sounded fun. An adventure. She could practically taste the salty sea air mixed with a big dose of freedom. That’s what she really wanted. The one thing her mom had never given her.
Freedom.
Space.
A chance to just be. To think on her own without her mom’s input. To walk on the beach, without her mother breathing down her neck.
But suddenly she didn’t feel free at all.
Lauren’s expression was one of hope. In her eyes, Amelia saw the familiar expectations. This wasn’t simply a carefree girl’s trip. Lauren had an agenda.
Amelia looked out past the wrought iron gate, at the street beyond. If only she could start running and never stop. Closing her eyes, she conjured up the feel of the air on her face, the breeze slipping through her fingers, brushing back her hair. She wanted to be alone to sort through all her confusing thoughts. Sift through the information she’d been force-fed by Lauren. She imagined the truth like those flecks of gold she’d panned for when she went on that gold rush field trip in sixth grade. Right now, she was only catching the fool’s gold. Shiny and brassy, deceptive. Masquerading as the real thing.
