The Great Pretender

8: Ain't Gonna Bring Me Down

Once again Cherish was questioning the world's desire to make her life a colossal misery. For the second time in one day, she was waking up in an unfamiliar place staring into the face of a guy. Only this time she didn't know the man whose face swam in her line of vision.

"Relax, Cherish," he said calmly, registering the panic in her eyes. Tucking a flashlight into his pocket, he smiled gently, "You are in an ambulance on the way to the hospital."

WHAT?

"You fainted due to severe dehydration and prolonged heat exposure."

She panicked again realising that this meant her father probably knew she had been drinking all night. In her disoriented state, she barely recognised the soft voice that followed the paramedic's words, "Will she be okay?"

"Yeah, she'll be fine. She just needs to rest and drink a lot of water."

Following the paramedic's gaze, she settled her eyes on her mother's comforting face.

"Hi, Babe. Happy Birthday."

That's right, she thought, my birthday. It took her some time to realise that her mother was not supposed to be there.

"Mom?" she gurgled before blacking out again.

-.-

Arriving at school early was normally an annoyance, forcing her to sit alone in her homeroom class till everyone else arrived. Not today; today Cherish leaned back in her seat and turned up the music in her car. Her brand new (at least to her) black with red leather interior, 1959 Oldsmobile Ninety Eight Holiday Sport Sedan. Muscle car, flames and all. It was a present from her parents, though she suspected her friends back home had a lot to do with it.

It didn't bother her that it had come from them, even though she wasn't about to call them up to thank them. They knew her well enough to know what kind of vehicle she wanted, and it was perfect. It had shocked her when she exited her home on Saturday morning to find it in her driveway.

Even still, the best part of her weekend had not been the car, it was her mother's visit. Renata McKinley was a brown skinned beauty; slender, tallish and perpetually young. Unlike any other mother she had ever known, her mother was first and foremost her friend and confidante. Renata McKinley never lectured, never grounded, never screamed or yelled or did much else a normal parent would do. Which was odd, considering her Indian background, and how strict Cherish was told her grandparents had been.

What Renata McKinley did was love, and that she did amazingly! She supported and cared. She trusted and allowed Cherish free reign to explore life. She gently guided and reprimanded with little to no condescension, making Cherish feel as if it had been her idea the whole time. And, she fixed or mended, no matter what the problem or how deep the gouge it left.

Cherish spent the entire weekend in the cooling comfort that was her mother. Though, with her mother's departure the night before, she knew the comfort would be short lived. Sighing as she hopped out of her car, she resolved she would try to make it last a week.

-.-

What had gotten into her? Harper stared at the back of Cherish's head wondering why she was so chipper. She was voluntarily talking to people, smiling and even laughing when appropriate. This was a girl reminiscent of the Cherish who used to visit Toronto years before, happy and slightly odd. This was not the Cherish he had finally grown used to- the one who avoided people and was constantly blank of any emotion.

She looked the same, well the same as she had since she moved here. But he had finally gotten used to that, too, the worn out, semi-baggy jeans, the button up shirts, the perpetually black and white with a hint of blue wardrobe. He had even gotten used to the hat that she crushed over top of her head, flattening her hair against it.