Page 53 of The Masks We Wear

“Hello?”

A shrill scream nearly blows my phone’s speakers. “Sobrina. Ay, dios mio. I have been trying to get a hold of you for weeks! My damn phone had some damage, and anytime I tried to call you, it went to voicemail.”

This voice. It’s older, more panicked, but familiar. I haven’t heard it in nearly ten years.Holy shit.“Aunt Mina?”

“Si! Who else would it be! Querida, please, tell me where you are. I have been looking for you.”

Confusion and anger slither up my spine, working its way into my already tense neck. I haven’t heard from my mom’s sister in a long time, right after my mother’s affair.

Before that, though, she was the best thing in my world, always checking in on me and FaceTiming every week. She lived halfway across the country, but she always made time to chat—about school, my parents, the boy in my backyard, everything. She was more of a mother to me than my biological one.

But when my life started falling apart, and I needed her the most, she followed up with my family’s signature disappearing act. I figured she was just another person who forgot I existed.

Somehow I find my voice. “What do you mean you’ve been looking for me?”

“Pequena, I have been looking for you for thirteen years! Oh, we have so much to talk about. I will explain everything when I get there.”

Thirteen years?

My parents and I moved to Washington when I was five, right after my grandmother died. I didn’t know her since Mom never took me to see her, but I remember how worked up she was. It was the first time I saw my parents fight, and not two weeks later, we were on a flight to Emerald Falls.

Did my mother not tell Mina where we went?

Thankfully the lockers are near to hold me up as my knees nearly collapse. I scrub a hand down my face, my mind reeling, trying to put the pieces of an incomplete puzzle together.

“I’m in Emerald Falls. W-Washington.” My voice cracks, and she sniffles in the receiver.

“I’m coming, Sobrina. Ay, dios mio, baby. I am on my fucking way. Text me your address.” Muffles in the background indicate her rush. My mouth opens to respond, but the slam of a door and jiggling of keys gives me pause.

She’s really coming?

“I love you, Liliana. See you soon.”

The phone clicks and my screen dims. A sudden stream of tears breaks free and tumbles down my cheeks. Hearing her voice… those words break open a chasm in my chest, letting everything buried underneath bubble to the surface.

There’s one emotion, in particular, I shouldn’t be feeling, but it takes over all the rest. It blooms in my mind like a sunflower in a garden. Despite what may be around it, it’s the only thing you notice.

Hope.

It’s digging in deep, spreading its roots to the tips of my toes. I hope she comes. I hope she—

Muffled chatter echoes through the outside of the locker room, signaling the girls are coming. Using my discarded sweater, I wipe my face just as they walk inside. I slip into the shower hall before they notice and enter the last stall, sliding to the floor. My shoulders shake as silent sobs wreck through my body, coming from the depths of my shredded heart.

I grab the small charm on my neck and pull it back and forth, breathing through the swell of emotions.

Maybe, just maybe, I’m not alone, and I’m not completely forgotten.

TWENTY TWO

Asmall bell rings from my pocket, filling the tiny room with its soft tone. While I used to cringe at the sound, I haven’t had to lately. Just last week, I was the laughing stock, the dirt beneath everyone’s shoes. The stand-in joke when someone needed a good laugh.

Now?

Now I have three dates in one day, four on the next, and I plan to go to every single one.

Back in Idaho, when William pushed me on the dating train, it was a nuisance at first. Meaningless dates with knock-off Liliana’s to fill the void she left. But after a while, I started appreciating them. They gave me the release I needed after studying day in and day out. They let me forget for a few hours that my mother was in the next room, literallyforgettingme.

It forced me to stop thinking about the one person I couldn’t have and the fifty others I could.

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