sweaty, writhing mother from a chair across the room. A strong arm rests on my shoulders. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” my dad asks next to me. “Because it’s okay if you want to go out into the hall.”
I shake my head. I want to be one of the first to meet my new sister. To meet Natalie. She will be named after my favorite singer—Natalie Cole. I’m actually surprised they let me in. But my mom insisted I see my sister born and no one seemed to have a problem with it.
After a few more pushes, the baby lands in the doctor’s arms. Her skin is bright red, she’s covered in muck and blood, and I don’t want to touch her. I look away. She cries, the doctors check her out and then she’s wiped down. Wrapped in a blanket.
“Hold real still, kitten,” Dad says to me, and hands me a warm bundle. I don’t move. I only stare into that blank, wrinkly face, feeling proud. Like I’m the one who made this creature.
My dream spins and tilts.
“Red Rover, Red Rover, let Olivia come over.” And then I’m running. I love the feeling of the wind whipping through my hair. I pick the best spot to enter the chain—one between wimpy Wyatt Rosen and Chrissy Stansfield, who’s the smallest in our class.
I break through their clasped hands too easily and my momentum causes me to stumble. I take a deep gaspy breath and put my hands in front of me before I fall, but I crash hard into the grass and roll over several times.
I can feel dirt on my face and tears in my eyes. Someone materializes above me. Wyatt. Everyone around is laughing but him. He offers a hand, but I don’t take it. Instead, I sit up and try to wipe the dirt of my face. It’s difficult, though, because my tears are making the dirt stick.
Wyatt brushes off the back of my head, delicately pulls the flowered bobby pin from my hair, and sticks it in more securely. He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “You okay?” he whispers.
My eyes pop open; I feel grass below me. I look around, but I’m in bed. The dream lingers and I wish I had a notebook nearby to write it down. Instead, I close my eyes for a few more seconds, trying to remember the warmth of Natalie in my hands and the soft touch of Wyatt’s fingers in my hair before everything begins to fade away.
Were they real memories? Maybe these dreams are the beginning of something bigger. I feel like they are, anyway. Like I’m on the precipice of a cliff, getting ready to let go and dive in. But that hope is edged in worry. What if I don’t get any memories back? Or what if I only get small ones, like what happened with Natalie’s hairstyle?
My stomach plummets. I don’t want my entire life to be just...
gone
.
I sit up, the house so quiet it makes me nervous.
I notice two things: food and an empty room. For once, no one is waiting on me to wake up. The dinner tray is close and identical to the breakfast and lunch ones, except it has a blue cross painting with a bowl of grapes and a tuna sandwich atop it. I grab the bowl of grapes like someone might come and steal them if I’m not fast enough and pop one into my mouth. They are dark purple, unlike any other grapes stored in my memory. Like they’ve never existed until this moment. They aren’t sour at all, they have a dark sweetness and I eat them slowly to savor them.
After my bowl of grapes and before stuffing myself with the sandwich, I remove the paper that Chloe gave me from underneath the lamp. After a dream like that, I can’t not open this. I want more of the Wyatt puzzle to be filled in.
The paper feels warm, even though the lamp isn’t on. It’s silly, but it’s like Wyatt’s warmth still lingers on the paper. It makes a satisfying crinkle when I open it. It’s a list. There’s no greeting, no salutation, no “love,” and there’s no signature, even though Chloe already told me who wrote it. I brush my fingers over the letters, which look familiar somehow.
I’ve never seen you cry.
You really love your
I shake my head. I want to be one of the first to meet my new sister. To meet Natalie. She will be named after my favorite singer—Natalie Cole. I’m actually surprised they let me in. But my mom insisted I see my sister born and no one seemed to have a problem with it.
After a few more pushes, the baby lands in the doctor’s arms. Her skin is bright red, she’s covered in muck and blood, and I don’t want to touch her. I look away. She cries, the doctors check her out and then she’s wiped down. Wrapped in a blanket.
“Hold real still, kitten,” Dad says to me, and hands me a warm bundle. I don’t move. I only stare into that blank, wrinkly face, feeling proud. Like I’m the one who made this creature.
My dream spins and tilts.
“Red Rover, Red Rover, let Olivia come over.” And then I’m running. I love the feeling of the wind whipping through my hair. I pick the best spot to enter the chain—one between wimpy Wyatt Rosen and Chrissy Stansfield, who’s the smallest in our class.
I break through their clasped hands too easily and my momentum causes me to stumble. I take a deep gaspy breath and put my hands in front of me before I fall, but I crash hard into the grass and roll over several times.
I can feel dirt on my face and tears in my eyes. Someone materializes above me. Wyatt. Everyone around is laughing but him. He offers a hand, but I don’t take it. Instead, I sit up and try to wipe the dirt of my face. It’s difficult, though, because my tears are making the dirt stick.
Wyatt brushes off the back of my head, delicately pulls the flowered bobby pin from my hair, and sticks it in more securely. He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “You okay?” he whispers.
My eyes pop open; I feel grass below me. I look around, but I’m in bed. The dream lingers and I wish I had a notebook nearby to write it down. Instead, I close my eyes for a few more seconds, trying to remember the warmth of Natalie in my hands and the soft touch of Wyatt’s fingers in my hair before everything begins to fade away.
Were they real memories? Maybe these dreams are the beginning of something bigger. I feel like they are, anyway. Like I’m on the precipice of a cliff, getting ready to let go and dive in. But that hope is edged in worry. What if I don’t get any memories back? Or what if I only get small ones, like what happened with Natalie’s hairstyle?
My stomach plummets. I don’t want my entire life to be just...
gone
.
I sit up, the house so quiet it makes me nervous.
I notice two things: food and an empty room. For once, no one is waiting on me to wake up. The dinner tray is close and identical to the breakfast and lunch ones, except it has a blue cross painting with a bowl of grapes and a tuna sandwich atop it. I grab the bowl of grapes like someone might come and steal them if I’m not fast enough and pop one into my mouth. They are dark purple, unlike any other grapes stored in my memory. Like they’ve never existed until this moment. They aren’t sour at all, they have a dark sweetness and I eat them slowly to savor them.
After my bowl of grapes and before stuffing myself with the sandwich, I remove the paper that Chloe gave me from underneath the lamp. After a dream like that, I can’t not open this. I want more of the Wyatt puzzle to be filled in.
The paper feels warm, even though the lamp isn’t on. It’s silly, but it’s like Wyatt’s warmth still lingers on the paper. It makes a satisfying crinkle when I open it. It’s a list. There’s no greeting, no salutation, no “love,” and there’s no signature, even though Chloe already told me who wrote it. I brush my fingers over the letters, which look familiar somehow.
I’ve never seen you cry.
You really love your
Similar Books
