Do we truly know those we consider as our family?
This is the last year before the beginning of the rest of Cara and Mia lives!
Mia Carter still has one more year to spend on Angel Island before leaving, with her best friend, for Montreal to pursue...
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Chapter 4 - Radio Silence
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Mia - Friday 1:42 AM
It's extremely hot. Mom left me alone to go buy ice cream, and I dare not move anymore. I'm sitting by the water, mesmerized by the movement of the waves against my toes. We just arrived in this place, and the feeling of the unknown tightens my chest. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I startle. My eyes follow the extension of the hand until they meet a gaze as blue as the waves against my toes.
"Hey! I'm Cara! You're new, I've never seen you here before." She tilts her head, and her blonde pigtails flutter in the wind. The lump in my throat suddenly disappears. "Yes, uh, my name is Mia." A big contagious smile spreads across her face. She sits beside me and takes my hand. "You're going to be my best friend, Mia." I vigorously nod.
I'm not alone anymore.
The memory dissipates, and I open my eyes to the late, or rather early, hour displayed on my alarm clock. My head is pounding, and my legs feel so tense as if I were hit by a car. I must have fallen asleep while stressed, and I'm suffering the consequences. I lie on my back and stare at the glowing stars on my ceiling.
The memory of Cara's mother wandering the school hallway still haunts me. I know there's a good chance she's fine. She disappeared for a few days last year after an argument with her parents, and this summer she often went around staying with friends or cousins. But something is off. Why would she hide her problems with Ethan from me? We've all known each other since childhood.
Ethan has always been so sweet and kind to her, so I don't understand his behavior. I toss and turn in my bed for the umpteenth time. Sleep is elusive. I reach for my phone under my pillow and open my apps. I review our messages, our photos, and her tweets, searching for something. Anything. Everything looks beautiful and smooth. On paper, Cara Ward is an ordinary, beautiful, and popular teenager.
She exudes a sunny energy in all the photos, and it's while looking at one from a few years ago that it shocks me. She has really changed recently. She looks more stressed and silent. Nausea rises, and I swallow acidic saliva. I take a big sip of cool water and turn on my phone to send a message on the only platform where we've added each other. Instagram. "Are you asleep?" I let the phone fall next to my head, grab the pillow next to me, and groan into it. What the hell am I doing! I'm silently cursing myself when a notification prompts me to look at the screen, which already displays a response.
"Well, well... Miss Know-it-all is thinking of me this late too ;) " I rub my eyes, regretting my action terribly. A second message appears, "You need to be in good shape for tomorrow. I don't want a language partner who snores on my notes."
