Once we’re outside, Serena shoots me a teasing smirk. “Smooth.”
“Harper’s got a habit of blurting things out,” I explain, feeling the heat in my cheeks.
“Kids have a way of doing that.”
“Sorry about that,” I apologize sheepishly.
“Don’t be. It’s sweet,” Serena says, squeezing my arm gently. “I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah, definitely,” I nod. As I watch her leave, I get a mix of embarrassment and something else–a weird sense of relief that Harper’s honesty might have just benefited me in some way.
Chapter 25
Serena
The moon’s shadows filter through my bedroom window. Late nights like this should bring a peaceful vibe to fall asleep but I’m at a loss, tossing and turning in bed, thinking I just need to find a comfortable position. I shift my pillow, fluff it up, and rearrange my blankets, but nothing seems to help. I even resorted to counting sheep and at 1,212 sheep, I’ve given up on trying to go back to sleep.
I let my head do its thing and activate, and the first thought is Harper.
Tyler talks about her when we meet up every week in the library for our sessions. He fills me in on her daily snacks, her new favorite songs that change daily, and what color bow she picks to wear. It’s weird how much she reminds me of myself just after a few minutes of seeing her. She’s lost her mom too, but she’s still so carefree, so happy. Makes me wonder, was I ever that carefree? When did things get so complicated for me? And again, when did the absence of my mom constantly weigh me down to the point where it keeps me up at night?
With a frustrated sigh, I sit up and rub my eyes, glancing at the digital clock on my bedside table, 4:42 a.m. The silence of the night weighs heavily on my mind like normal. It amplifies every thought and worry from my troubled years and emotional trauma. I have a hard time turning off my brain at night once I reached my teen years. My therapist says it stems from having unresolved issues that started at a very young age for me.
I never thought about resolving our issues. It’s come up before in conversation with Doctor Martínez, and I’ve promised to do something about it, then convince myself it’s unnecessary, and I eventually stopped showing up to sessions when I thought I was okay. Yes, the idea of having that conversation with the woman who gave birth to me has always been a distant dream of mine. What would we talk about? Would we even have anything in common? Is she the reason why I like boba so much? Is she the reason why I’m good with numbers? Is she the reason why I’m left-handed? There are so many unanswered questions that I’ve always wondered if we’re even one and the same.
I searched for her online a couple of times behind my dad’s back when he was still here, only when he was busy cooking orders with Aunt Lina. I never told him about it. The last thing I wanted was for him to carry the weight of guilt for something that wasn’t his fault.
After what feels like an eternity of thinking, I accept that I’m never going back to sleep, at least it was the weekend. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and pad softly across the room,careful not to wake the rest of the house. The other night, Aunt Lina cried because I went to get a water bottle and the sound of opening the fridge woke her up.
With a sigh, I settle into my desk across the room, wrapping myself in a fuzzy blanket. I stare outside at the quiet neighborhood bathed in moonlight, feeling a sense of solitude and peace wash over me.
As if on cue, my thoughts drift to Tyler,Call me whenever you want. Even if you don’t have a reason to.
With a nervous sigh, I reach for my phone and feel my fingers trembling slightly as I let the line ring.
Tyler picks up after the first two rings. “Serena?”
Of course, he has to sound insanely hot with a sleepy voice. I hate hot men, especially when I’m trying to suppress my feelings.
“Hi, I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” I rub a hand over my face, “This was a bad idea. I’m sorry, I’ll just talk to you later.”
Tyler’s voice stops me from hanging up. “Hey, no, no, no, it’s fine, sunshine. I’m glad you called me.”
“You are?”
“Yeah, it’s nice that your voice is the first thing I heard today other than Bluey.”
An unexpected small smile tugs at my lips. “Bluey is so cute, though.”
“Yeah, but you’re cuter.”
Instantly, my cheeks flush with a blatant blush.
There’s a pause on the other end of the line until Tyler speaks again, “Do you wanna talk about it?”
“Not really,” I say softly, resting my head under my hand. “It’s just a lot of overthinking essentially.”
“Well, if you don’t want to talk about it, I have a better idea.”
