Saving the Reject | Michael Clifford | Editing

t h i r t y s i x ;

| s y d n e y |

"It is three in the morning, and I've just been on a plane for a shit load of time. No, I do not want to drive."

Charli laughed as she lifted the last of Emmy's bags into the bed of her brother's truck. "I'm fine with driving," she chuckled. "You and Emmy can go ahead and get in, Michael and I can fasten the tarp." The rain had started late last night, and hasn't ceased for a minute. Charli couldn't imagine the bumpy ride Dawson and Emmy had had coming in.

Michael, his lilac hair looking very nice in the grey of the early morning, was surprisingly the most awake of the four. I sleep best when I'm with you, was his excuse, and Charli joked that the hair dye had sunken in too far. "Want me to drive?" he questioned as he helped his girlfriend off the bed of the truck.

"It wasn't my fault!" Charli pouted lazily, stomping her foot like a tired, whiny child, speaking of the accident they were almost in on the way to the airport.

Michael laughed, pulling Charli into a warm hug, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. He had to admit, it was his favorite place to kiss her. "I know it wasn't, babe. I was offering because you look almost as tired as Emmy."

Charli looked up at her boyfriend, resting her chin on his chest. "Fine," she sighed, sending him a thankful smile, because in all honesty, she was exhausted. After a small kiss on the lips, the two parted, going to either side of the truck and getting in.

Dawson and Emmy were already in the back, leaning on each other, nearly asleep. They were having a half-asleep argument - about turbulence - that Charli really wasn't paying attention to, until Emmy asked her about it as they left the airport. "Charli you don't think it's crazy that I like turbulence, do you?"

Charli was tired and confused. "You like the feeling of a plane going down?"

"It's like a roller coaster," responded Emmy.

"You need sleep," answered Charli.

-

At noon, Charli woke to the sound of her generic ringtone. After kissing her goodbye, Michael had returned home to do whatever it is he does on Saturday mornings while Charli, Emmy, and Dawson had retired to their apartment to sleep for the next twelve hours.

Charli sat up quickly, looking around in the darkness for her Motorola. "Hello?" she answered groggily after finding the device on the floor.

"Charli," the voice answered. Charli recognized the accent immediately.

"Halina," she responded, bewildered. "Oh my God, Halina! How have you been?" Charli was completely shocked - it had been a long time since their last interaction, and while never fully forgetting the Kenyan woman, she had lost hope that she would receive a call from her.

As the two of them spoke together like old friends, Charli couldn't hide the smile that so evidently graced her face. Halina was doing well: she had recently gotten a job at that same sandwich shop Charli and Michael had taken her to, and through her charitable boss, had found a steady place to live. But there was something else.

"You have a daughter?" Charli questioned.

"Yes," answered Halina. "And I would love for you to meet her. Are you and Michael free for lunch today?"

"Yes, yes, of course. When should we meet you?"

Her accent thick, she asked, "Does one-fifteen work for you?" to which Charli answered with a definite yes, suddenly excited to not only see Halina again, but to meet her daughter for the first time. Halina had sounded so happy to have finally found the one she had left Kenya for after her son died. Charli couldn't have been more delighted to be a part of her ultimate happiness.