Chapter FOURTEEN

Upstairs, I slipped into the guest room, shutting the door behind me. I got undressed and then wrapped the cast with the clear bags and tape. It was awkward and when I thought about it, it was crazy that I only had this one injury, from a bad car accident. Maybe I was lucky. But I still wished I could remember my life before this.

In the shower, my mind raced some more. I was glad to be at my dad's house because it felt right. What was I going to say to my mom? How was I going to get my memory back?

And then, Mateo.

As I dried off and got dressed, I felt a thousand times better. My stomach was still growling though, so I left my hair wet and headed back downstairs.

My dad was in the kitchen, scooping out some soup into a bowl for me. I sat at the table as he put it in front of me. It smelled amazing. As I took the first bite, my dad spoke.

"So, I'm cautious about leaving you here... with Mateo."

I looked up at him quickly. "Why?"

"I am sure that you are responsible, El. But Mateo... he used to live here. I know he's messy and he eats junk all the time."

I smiled. "Well, I can cook. And I won't let him be a slob, okay?"

He smiled back, and I relaxed a bit. For a second there I thought he was thinking about Mateo and I, together. I mean, I'd been thinking about that all day already. I couldn't stop thinking about it, actually. We would be there, in that house, alone, together.

"It's just a few days. Mateo will drive you to your appointment on Friday. And by then, well, hopefully your mom can come get you," my dad went on.

I knew he didn't mean it like that, but it felt like he was trying to get rid of me.  I took another bite of soup, trying to enjoy it. But my dad was standing by, close.

"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean for this... for me to be such a burden," I spat out.

"Elena, no. That's not what I meant." He sat down across from me. "I meant, hopefully your memory is back. Better. So you can feel... you know, normal."

"Yeah. I know," I said, looking down at the soup.

"You can call or text me, anytime. I set up your phone. It's the same number, and... we'll just be in Arizona," he went on, now smiling again.

"Okay." I ate some more soup. It was so good.

"If anything happens, we can cut the trip    short -"

"Dad. I'm eighteen," I said quickly. He looked shocked for a second. "I mean, I'll be fine. I swear. And I will text you, okay?"

He relaxed a little. "Yes, okay. I'll be in contact with your mom, too."

"Okay. So, when did you and her...?" I didn't really know how to finish the question.

Again, he looked surprised. I guess he never thought he'd have to have this conversation with me. "Oh, well, you were eleven. Paige was almost thirteen. I lived in an apartment on my own in Ann Arbor for a couple of years, before I moved here..."

"Oh. Wow, okay. I keep forgetting that I don't live here. Like, with you."

His expression changed to sadness. "I wish you did."

Our conversation was interrupted by Jenna entering the kitchen. She talked a mile a minute, asking about the soup, if I needed more, how was my shower... and then she went on to talk about her house plants and how they needed to be water every morning. She told me that the pool company would be there later in the week to clean the pool. I didn't even know they had a pool. And then she told me that Mateo was on his way over. It was all a lot to process.

"I'm sure you two will get along," she continued, after I nodded a few times. "He's a bit messy, but he's a good boy. I went and got tons of groceries so, of course eat whatever you'd like. God knows that Mateo will." She laughed, putting her hand on my shoulder. "And if he gets on your nerves, just ask him to leave for a bit. He won't be offended."

I swallowed hard. "I am sure we will be fine."

As if on cue, I heard the front door open and close again. And then, "Anyone here?"

"In the kitchen!" Jenna called out.

My dad had left to go finish his packing for their trip. They were leaving early the next morning.

When Mateo appeared, I was surprised by how seeing him made me feel. Weak. Heavy. Good. Scared. He smiled, obviously happy to see me.

"Matty!" Jenna began, rushing over to hug him. "I was just going over things with Elena."

He nodded. "Hey, how're you doing?"

"Oh, I'm good," I said quickly, not keeping my eyes on him for long.

"The time and location of Elena's appointment is on the fridge. There's lots of groceries. Are Thatcher and his girlfriend coming?" Jenna went on.

Mateo looked back over at me. "No. Well, maybe in a few days? Thatcher has to work..."

"Okay, well, make sure they know they are welcome here. I believe Elena's mom is coming to get her on Friday evening?" Now Jenna looked at me for the answer.

I shrugged. "I haven't... talked to her yet."

"Oh! Right, well, no rush. You two will be fine, I'm sure."

Mateo met my eyes with his, holding back a smile. I shook my head a little, holding my breath. Things were different now and we both knew it. Before the accident, he and I were going to hang out. Once. And then I would go back to Ann Arbor, I assumed. Maybe we would have kept in touch, maybe not. But now? We were being thrown together with no parents for at least a few days. I did not know how to think or feel.

We spent that evening eating pizza and watching movies. We talked a bit, but mostly we just sort of existed there, together. My dad and Jenna were around, hurrying to get the last minute things done before they left. He'd given me the new phone, which was way nicer than my old one. I was setting up apps and realized pretty quickly that things were harder than I thought.

"This is messed up," I said to Mateo, holding up the phone. "I don't know my account passwords. Like, I have no idea. I can't get into Instagram or Snap-"

"You have Snap Chat?" he asked, grinning.

"Well, I did."

He was quiet for a minute, realizing that I was upset about this.

"Put my number in there," he said instead. "I mean, you put it in your other phone."

"Here," I said, holding it out to him. He took it and typed in his number, then handed it back.

He was sitting at the other end of the sofa. Suddenly the memories of laying in the sand with him, talking all night was so fresh in my mind. I knew he knew that I could remember that. But he was being cautious with me. I looked at him and then looked at the space between us. He moved a bit closer, smiling.

But then my phone was ringing, in my hand.