Page 37 of Fostering Chemistry
“That all really happened, but not like in the dream. In the dream, I walked the hallways, but I was an adult, like now. Everything looked smaller. The receptionist gave me a classschedule, and I was relieved to see that Sara was in three of my classes.”
“Was she in real life?” I asked.
She bit her lip, her eyes unfocused as if trying to remember. “At least one that first semester. It took us a few months to become friends.”
“And then true sisters, right?” Diego asked.
“Yes. But then the dream changed. It skipped ahead, and I was trying to find Sara so we could eat lunch together, but she wasn’t in her classroom. No one was, it was completely empty, but I was only worried about Sara. I looked in the next room and the next, and they were all empty, and I couldn’t find her. And sometimes I’d hear her voice calling from down the hall, but I could never find her. And… and it got scary. Something was chasing me, but I knew it was after her and I kept running, and the hallway was endless?—”
A fresh tear traced down her cheek.
I patted her hand. “That would’ve made anyone scream.”
She blinked. “I screamed?”
“Yes,” Diego said. “I would have too, after that nightmare.”
Mia stared at him for a long moment before nodding. I got the feeling that it meant more, having him say that. I was her friend—at least I hoped we were friends. She was probably smart enough to know how desperate I was to make her feel better. But Diego’s words were always measured and thoughtful, and that’s probably just what she needed right now.
“It felt like losing her for the third time,” Mia said quietly after a long moment.
The third time… so once when they were sent to separate foster homes, and just recently when Sara got kicked out of school.
Fuck, I wish I had the power to make her feel better. To do something—anything—to take her mind off the feeling of abandonment. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to climb up in the bed and pull her into my arms. But would I be doing that for me or for her? It would be pretty egotistical to imagine she’d been thinking about me as much as I’d been thinking about her lately.
So that was out, even if Diego wasn’t here. Instead, maybe I could provide a distraction. “Would you like to come downstairs? I can make some tea, and we can watch another episode ofAmerican Adventures.”
Diego frowned. In his book, that was definitely not what the doctor ordered. But it was easy, and mindless, and sometimes, that was all a person could handle when they were overwhelmed.
Mia nodded. “I’d like that,” she said in a small voice.
So that’s what we did.
12
MIA
"I betthe yellow team never thought they'd be scaling this side of a mountain when they signed on for the race." It was the next evening, and we were already halfway through season three ofAmerican Adventures.
"Better them than me," I said.
"Not fond of heights?" Aaron asked.
"Don't hate them. Don't love them. But I have the upper body strength of... a worm. So I wouldn't do very well with that."
Aaron laughed. "Do worms even have upper bodies?"
"It's so hard to tell," I giggled. Speaking of upper bodies... Aaron had his arm around my shoulder. He first did that last night when we watched three episodes after that horrible call with Sara and the nightmare.
Yesterday, it had been for comfort. Today, I didn’t know. But I certainly didn’t mind. It felt good being next to him, thigh to thigh, side to side. I had to stop myself before I accidentallyrested my head on his shoulder. That was a little too cozy for just friends, but whatever this was, I was enjoying it.
"Are they ever going to show us what the green team is up to?"
"I don’t think so. The pink team gets most of the camera time."
"I think they bribed somebody."
"Hey."
