by Gail Haris
“Do you think it would be weird for them if I attend the same school? I don’t want to embarrass them.”
I know I’ll draw a lot of attention at whichever school I attend. I would prefer that my new siblings not resent me if they receive any unwanted attention on my behalf.
Melissa looks as though I just struck her “Embarrass them? Honey…why would you think they’d be embarrassed by you being there?”
I look down at my lap and say, “Well, I’ve been featured on the news as the abducted girl. I’m their sister that was kidnapped and now I’m back…People might look at me weird and gain them unwanted attention.”
Melissa gets up out of her chair and takes me in her arms “Stop. Nobody is embarrassed, and you….” She takes my face in her hands and looks me square in the eye “Don’t you ever be embarrassed or ashamed. Don’t ever think less of yourself-ever! This whole situation is not your fault. I want you to know that every single person in this family loves you. We’re so proud and happy to have you!”
Since I’m scared I’ll cry or my voice will break, I settle for a nod. She smiles and kisses my forehead. She sits back across from me and I go back to focusing on my breakfast.
“Sarah?”
I look up from my plate. Melissa taps her nails against her coffee cup. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but—” She sighs. “This is silly. I don’t know why I’m getting tongue-tied and flushed. It’s really not a big deal. Mrs. Jenkins suggested you attend a few therapy sessions. Just until you get adjusted. You’ve gone through a life changing experience. Your whole world has been flipped. I can’t imagine.”
I swallow and nod. I focus back on my breakfast because what more can I say? Of course I probably need therapy. My life is so screwed up how could I not? Add that to my other list of let’s make Sarah, Olivia, whoever the hell she is more not normal.
“Please talk to me honey. I was worried you’d feel uncomfortable, but I really think it’s for the best. So does your father and Mrs. Jenkins.”
“Okay.” I whisper.
Melissa bites her bottom lip and watches me for a moment longer. Finally, she sighs and offers me a tight smile. She whispers back. “Okay, then.”
I finish my breakfast, and she finishes her coffee.
That afternoon, as I’m sitting on my bed sketching, there’s a knock at my bedroom door. I look over to see Landon leaning against the door frame holding a thin hardback book.
“Come on in.” I give him a closed lip smile as he pushes himself off the frame and strolls through the bedroom. He plops down on the bed and holds out his high school yearbook from last year.
“Thought you might want to get an idea of the school. Lay of the land so to speak.”
I raise one eyebrow at his lopsided grin. “That’s really sweet of you. Thank you. It’s mid-September, so I’m going into the year late. Great way to start my senior year.”
“Ah, don’t look at it that way. You haven’t missed much. This way you’ll make a grand entrance.”
“I don’t want to. I want to ease in unnoticed and just get through the year.”
“What? It’s your senior year. It’s the best year of high school. I’m already planning what pranks and shit I’m going to pull next year.” I can’t help but smile at his infectious smile. This is supposed to be the best year of school, but it’s already the worst. Hopefully, Landon will get to have an amazing senior year.
I debate on asking him about Noah. If he knows him, but I’ve never mentioned the Wallace family to any of them; I’m too scared. I’m unsure how well they know them, or how they’ll react. There are options for schools here, and it would be unlikely Noah and I’d be attending the same one. If we did attend the same school together, I could ask him questions and, hopefully, get some answers. Maybe Noah does attend public school. I don’t ever recall them being well off, but that still doesn’t mean he couldn’t attend a private school. Sometimes money has nothing to do with it. Look at the Randall children.
Idly I flip the pages as Landon chatters on about how Trent was a legend at school with his athletic abilities while he scans social media on his phone. “I’m a legend in my own right, but sports aren’t my thing. I do like track. Do you play any sports?”
“Soccer, but we didn’t have a team.”
“Why?” He puts his phone down clearly shocked.
I smile and actually laugh. It feels funny because it’s been so long since I’ve genuinely smiled. “Our school was too small. We had a few community sponsored teams, but it was never the school. That lasted only six weeks out of the year.”
“Huh…” He picks his phone back up and resumes swiping. “Well, we have a team. Two actually. Girls and boys. They’re pretty good. Might look into it.”
The yearbook is from last year so when I get to the junior class, I scan the W’s. There he is. Noah Wallace was a junior last year at public, so that means he’ll be in my graduating class. I was so lost in my own grief and confusion that I didn’t pay much attention to Noah at the house or at the funeral. In fact, I can barely even remember much of it now. I mostly remember him comforting me at the funeral. He has grown up to be quite handsome.
I feel eyes on me, so I quickly turn the page. So much for taking time to study his face. Landon raises up and shows me his phone screen. “Do you have any accounts?”
Suddenly feeling embarrassed and weird for probably being the only teenager on the planet that’s not connected on social media somehow, I look down and shake my head.
Cindy never allowed me to use social media growing up. The only means I had with communicating with friends and the Wallace family was through phone. Now I know why she never allowed me to be on social media and why we never returned to her hometown. That’s partly why Noah and I probably never formed a cousin relationship or even friendship. Aunt Andrea was the only one that really kept in contact. I remember us sending gifts to Noah for his birthday. Cindy would chat with him on the phone from time to time. I guess at the time, Noah and I were too busy with our own lives to worry about a cousin who lived across the country.
Landon shrugs casually, “That’s fine. I was just curious.” He pauses and studies me closer. “You know, I could help you set up an account if you wanted… It’s up to you. No pressure. Just ask if you need anything, okay?”
Touched by the tenderness in his voice I smile. I turn the final page in the yearbook and then hand it to Landon. “Thanks.”
“Any time.” He takes the book and then strolls out.
If I see Noah at school, what should I do? What will he do? I’m so confused. Should I be sad or angry with the Wallace family? I really don’t feel angry towards them. I’d like for Noah to be my friend. I want Aunt Andrea to still be my aunt and for all of us to still be family. I’m seventeen years old, and I just lost my mother, who I discovered through her death, is not really my mother but my kidnapper. This isn’t what normal people go through. At least now I feel like I’ve got Landon by my side, except will Landon be okay with Noah there as well?
THE NEXT DAY, I GET up early enough to join everyone for breakfast. While setting all the food on the table, Melissa announces that Trent was accepted into an early internship at the hospital by the University. Landon is elated for the news, while Denise seems like she couldn’t care less. Richard beams with pride and says, “I knew he’d get it. That boy gets anything he puts his mind to,” before he begins to shove food in his mouth. Melissa sits down and starts fixing her own plate. She turns to me.
“You have your first appointment today.” I raise my eyebrows in confusion, so she continues. “Your first therapy session.” My face falls and she hurries to continue. “Only for a little while. To help you get adjusted.”
Denise grumbles without looking up from her plate. “Maybe you should go too.”
Melissa gasps. “Denise.”
Denise continues. “Then maybe I could go to sleepovers like a normal teenager.”
“Young lady, you’r
e barely a teenager. You make your bed, they make theirs. Everyone sleeps in their own.” Richard gives Denise a pointed look, but she ignores him.
She hasn’t got to attend a sleepover? Even Cindy let me spend the night with Angie.
“I’m four—teen. Hear the teen part? It’s also part of the word teenager.”
“Watch it or you’ll be a grounded teenager.” He scolds.
Denise pokes at her eggs with a fork and scoffs. “What’s the difference than how it is now?”
“Try not having a phone? No wifi? Not going to the games?”
“Yes, sir.”
Melissa gives a nervous chuckle and smiles brightly at me. “We should go shopping.”
That gets Denise’s attention. Her eyes are wide and bright, and not staring at her plate. “I want to go! Homecoming’s in three weeks! I think Joey might ask me out. Even though I would rather go with Clint. I’m not about going solo, so I may go with Joey if he asks. Daniel was hinting about us going together, but ugh, no thank you.”
Richard tells his daughter she’s only allowed to go out to eat before the dance if Trent and Landon agrees to chaperone the dinner. This gets him an eye roll from both of his children. I doubt I’ll be going to Homecoming, and I highly doubt I’ll get asked to the dance. Before, I would never have missed a dance, whether it was solo, with a group, or on a date. But that was my old life.
Melissa smiles at Denise. “Sweetie, how about we all three go next weekend? We can make it a whole day of dress shopping. We can also go out to eat and have ice cream. But today, I’m going to take Sarah out for some new school clothes.” She turns to me and smiles. “We never got to go school shopping.” She shrugs and blushes. “Would that be...okay?”
As all eyes fall on me, I nod and go back to eating. An awkward silence starts to settle. Landon immediately begins chatting about a new movie coming out that he thinks Richard and Melissa would enjoy. I look over at him and he gives me a wink. Landon seems to try the hardest to make me comfortable and something tells me, out of everyone in this house, he seems to understand me the best. Maybe it’s because we’re so close in age.
When I go back to my room, I check my phone. A few messages from Angie and a few other friends trying to reach out to me. My thumb hovers over the keypad on my phone. I feel like a coward for not at least sending them a thank you for checking on me, but I’m scared they’ll ask more questions. I know I’ve been in this zombie-like state since the accident, but I’m not ready to enter the social world yet. I’m not ready to accept my reality. I’m not ready to fully accept the loss of my mother. The full loss of my mother as in she was my kidnapper and not my mother. I’m not ready to face my anger, fear, grief, any emotions yet. As long as I’m numb, I can’t feel.
The least I can do is text Angie back.
Me: Sorry. Everything is good. They’re super nice. I think my little sister doesn’t like me.
Angie: You’re just used to being an only child. Besides, aren’t little sisters supposed to not get along with big sisters?
Me: I guess. It feels like she resents me. I think the parents were super strict.
Angie: I bet. I mean—their baby got kidnapped. Tell her to chill. Wait—so are they strict with you now?
Me: I haven’t even tried to go anywhere. Ha. Where would I go?
Angie: Back to meeee ☺
A giggle escapes me.
Me: Maybe. Think they’d let me visit Spring Break? Or you come here!
Angie: If I could afford it, I’d be there.
I sigh. I know you would Angie.
There’s a knock on my door followed by Melissa. “Sarah? May I come in?”
“Yeah.”
Melissa opens the door and her eyes immediately fall on my phone. “I’m sorry. Am I interrupting?”
I shake my head and place my phone on my nightstand.
“It’s time to leave for your appointment.”
We all exit the house together, everyone going to their designated vehicle. I follow Melissa to her Lexus for therapy and a mother/daughter first day of school shopping.
The therapist’s office is a small building and the waiting area reminds me of a comfortable chic living room…with a front desk. Melissa checks me in and then joins me on the grey couch.
“Sarah Randall.”
I admire an arrangement of white lilies. The white is a nice contrast to the light turquoise walls.
“Sarah Randall?”
Melissa gently pats my hand. “Sweetie. They’re calling your name.”
That is me. I’m Sarah Randall. I give an embarrassed smile and stand. “Sorry.”
The lady standing by the door is younger than I was expecting. She’s probably in her early forties. Her makeup is clean and simple matching the rest of her style. A plain sheer pink flowy blouse and khaki colored slacks. Her shoulder-length dark waves are loose but out of her face.
“Hi. I’m Rita Dawson. Have a seat.”
I sit down on the yellow cushioned chair. “Hello. I’m…Sarah Randall.”
“Would you rather I call you Olivia?”
I pause. “No.”
“If it would make you more comfortable, we can?”
“No. Sarah is fine.”
She sits across from me and smiles. We wait. I fidget wondering what I need to say or do now. Rita finally speaks. “Sarah.” I nod. “How are you adjusting so far with your parents? Siblings?”
“Everyone is great.”
“Details. I want to know how you feel.”
“Confused.”
“Understandable.”
“Scared.”
“What makes you scared?”
“Is this…is this over? Is another ball going to drop? Something else bad going to happen?”
“Are you afraid to get close to your new family? Since you’ve lost your mother?”
“I’ve lost everything.”
“Do you keep in contact with any friends from back home?”
“One. My best friend Angie.”
“Good. Don’t isolate yourself with this. Why don’t you find something that you loved from your old life that you can share in your new life. ”
Melissa tells me we’re going to a mall that’s thirty-minutes away because Lumberton doesn’t have many options. We listen to the radio as she drives. Melissa, I pick up quickly, is a country music fan. Which is fine. I like country music, but Cindy and I always enjoyed our eighties stations. Or the old mixed CDs we’d made. Melissa uses Bluetooth. No CDs. I smile despite myself remembering how we’d still pull out that huge CD wallet. All the CDs had scribbles and whimsical writing made from Sharpies. I swallow the lump in my throat and try to focus on the present. Here with Melissa. Here with my real mom.
We go from store to store in the mall buying everything from expensive dresses to plain black ankle socks. These clothes are a long way from my under twenty-dollar outfits I typically purchase. After a few hours into our shopping endeavors, it becomes clear to me that Melissa doesn’t want to simply buy me a few outfits for school. No, she wants to replace my entire wardrobe. I test my theory when I tell her I already own a winter coat, but her reply is she never got to buy me one. I try again by telling her that I have plenty of socks, and she shoots back, “Is it just me or does it seem socks get worn thin so easy? Let’s go ahead and get some more. I don’t know about you, but I’m always losing a mate to my socks. It’s just socks honey, no biggie.”
But it is a “biggie,” because she insisted I needed new socks. I needed new everything, apparently.
When I have every possible garment that I could ever possibly need, she takes me out for a late lunch. I’m surprised that our lunch conversation goes so smoothly after all the tension from mission “Convert Olivia into Sarah.” We discuss interests, movies, music, and even a little about sports. Both of us are careful not to let it go too deep and too personal. I relax and realize we can be fun and easy together.
After our lunch, Melissa takes us to an AT&T store
. I don’t ask any questions as we go in. “What kind of phone do you have?” she casually asks while examining the phones on display.
“Oh, I have an Android Galaxy.” I take my phone out and show her. Maybe she’s thinking of getting a new phone. I know all the kids have one since they’re always in their hands.
She barely glances at it and turns her attention back to the ones on display “Are you happy with it? I have the iPhone and love the camera on it. Do you like the iPhone, or would you like to try another type of phone?”
Her question throws me off. When I don’t immediately answer, she says, “Honey, we need to add you to our phone plan. I figured since we were here, might as well get you an upgrade. Which one do you like?”
An employee comes to check on us, and Melissa explains to him we’re adding a line. Then, she asks him which is the latest iPhone model. She turns and asks me if I like the phone the man is holding. All I can do is slowly nod because it’s an amazing phone, but it’s way too expensive.
She whispers something to him and turns to me to take my phone. “Whoever is handling all the legal affairs will end the contract this phone is on. He needs to go ahead and deactivate it.”
Before I can say anything else, she hands the store employee my phone. I’m hoping maybe he’ll keep my SIM card by placing it in the new phone. Unfortunately, when they hand me my new phone, all my contacts are gone. I’m about to ask for my old phone back so I can at least get all my contacts and photos from it, but Melissa puts her arm around me to lead me out of the store.
“No.” I stop her. “I need my phone back. I have photos and numbers on there. Please. I didn’t get a chance to back anything up.”
She pretends that the thought never crossed her mind, but I can tell it’s an act. She uses overexaggerated hand gestures, and her voice is strained and drips with fake surprise. “Oh no! I’m so sorry, Sarah. I didn’t even think of that. Let’s go see if we can still get it. I told him we didn’t need it, and they could recycle it or donate it.”