Never feel alone

Chapter 18

Callie

"Try that chord again," said Brandon. "You almost had it. Loosen your fingers jusssst a little." He carefully readjusted my fingers, just slightly, against the guitar strings. "That's better." He'd had the idea after dinner to give me guitar lessons, and I was really enjoying myself. Playing the guitar brought back memories of my mother. Not sad, bittersweet ones, but happy ones. Things I wanted to remember.

"Okay." I imitated what he'd showed me, and it sounded almost right.

"That was great," he said, breaking out in a grin. "You're doing awesome, Cal."

"I didn't do it right," I sighed, frustrated. "I can't remember anything."

"Keep practicing," he encouraged. "You're just a little rusty." He took the guitar back and showed me another chord. "This one's a little easier. Give it a try."

Lena looked over at us from the kitchen table, where she was helping my sister with her math homework. "Guys, could you please take your lesson to another room?" she asked. "We really need to get these worksheets done."

Brandon turned to me and shrugged. "Okay. You want to go out to the garage?"

Actually," I said, setting the guitar down carefully, "maybe we can pick this up tomorrow? I kind of want to go to bed early tonight." It had been a long day, and I kind of wanted to talk to Mariana. She's gone upstairs early, too. I wanted to catch her before she went to sleep.

"Sure," he nodded. "It's cool." He stood up and headed out to the garage by himself, and I wandered up the stairs. I stood outside Mariana's door and knocked.

"Yeah?" she called.

"It's Callie," I answered. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," she called back. "Door's open."

I went inside, and saw my foster sister sitting at her computer. Just before she minimized the window, I could see that she was chatting with someone named Ana. She was talking to her birth mom."How's that going?" I asked, pointing to the screen.

She blushed a little. "It's going fine."

Something about the situation still made me feel strange inside, like it had when I first found out Mariana was communicating with Ana, but I could tell she didn't want to talk about it with me, and I didn't want to step on her toes again now that we were getting along better.

"You can sit down," she said, eager to change the subject.

"Thanks." I took a seat on the bed, and she pushed her chair over closer.

"So, what's up?" she asked.

"I just wanted to ask you about something." I shuffled around a little, unsure of where to start. ""When Lena was talking to me the other day about why I should go to therapy, she mentioned that you saw one when you were younger, because you had panic attacks."

Mariana's brow creased. "She told you that?"

"Yeah," I nodded. Maybe mentioning it wasn't such a good idea. "She was just trying to make me feel better," I said. "I have them too."

"Oh," she nodded. She looked down into her lap, not speaking. "I don't think about those days too much anymore," she finally told me. "Why? What do you want to know?"

"Like, did it really help?" I asked her. "I don't want to feel this way anymore."

"I think it did," she told me. "I mean, it's probably different for you. I was just a little kid. But I think, you have to make it work for you, you know? It's not an instant fix, and you have to really accept the help. It's one of those things where you only get out what you put in, I guess."