Be With Me

one

The modern two-story house in the middle of the suburbs couldn't be any more different from the drab gray cement walls of the detention center where I spent the last three weeks. I stare at it from the sidewalk, a backpack containing my favorite belongings dangling from my shoulder. The house looks like it's straight out of a movie, the place where the pretty girl next door would live, and where she'd fall in love with the hunky football player who never noticed her. There are flowers lining the walkway, recently mowed grass, and an actual welcome mat, although it doesn't make me feel welcome.

The house belongs to my dad. The same dad who forgot to pick me up from the airport. I don't know why I'm surprised; he's forgotten about my existence ever since he walked out on us when I could barely walk. But for some reason, despite knowing almost nothing about the man except that he was alive somewhere, I thought he'd show up. I also thought he'd answer my call, but he let me down there too, so I had to Uber here.

After Aunt Julie washed her hands of us, I spent countless nights wondering if Gia and I would be split up in foster care. So when the lawyers told me Dario Amato was taking us in, I was shocked. Hell, I thought the odds of Mom coming back from wherever she's off galivanting were higher. The man hasn't sent me so much as a birthday card in fourteen years, and he's opening his house to us? I don't know why he's stepping up to be a father, now of all times, but I don't care. Anywhere Gia and I can be together is good enough for me.

I stare at the pretty house that's so at odds with where I pictured my father living. I don't want to go in yet; I can't bring myself to move toward the front door. The thought of stepping inside the house nauseates me. I just need some fresh air; ever since being released, I can never get enough fresh air.

After leaving us, Dario moved back to King City, the town where he grew up, the town where he met Mom. It's so quiet here. I can literally hear the birds chirping, and a neighbor a street over mowing his lawn. How long has it been since I've just had quiet? Not on our block in LA, where there always seemed to be shouting, sirens, and other activity throughout the day and night, not in the detention center, and definitely not inside our apartment, since Aunt Julie loved having people over. The silence makes me uneasy.

It's going to be better here. It has to be better here.

Gia's in there somewhere. I haven't seen her since they hauled us off in different police cars, but the lawyer told me she was released almost immediately and sent to live with our dad. This has been the longest I've gone without seeing her, and the monitored phone calls I've had with her just weren't the same as being with her, especially after what happened.

My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and I pull it out to see a missed call from an unknown number.

"Hey!" a voice calls, taking me so off guard that I drop my phone on the sidewalk.

A girl around my age is standing on the neighbor's driveway. Even with dark circles under her eyes, she's so well put together and perfect looking. Her long hair is dyed a dark auburn and curled in loose waves. She's even dressed impeccably, like she's getting ready for a runway show at five on a Friday night.

"I saw you from my window." She points at the second floor of her house. "You've been standing there for a while. You must be Gia's sister, Siena. She talks about you a lot; I feel like I already know you."

I edge closer to her, placing her from Gia's phone calls. "Are you Lily? Lily Liu?"

She smiles and crosses the grass separating us to stand with me. I don't know how she does it, considering she's in red stilettos, but she traverses over the uneven grass and gravel with such grace it seems like her feet aren't even hurting and her ankles aren't at risk of twisting.