"Wow, that's a big place!" Vlad said. Using my phone, I showed him the house. "Does he want to adopt me too?"
"Vlad!" I said, not sure if that was funny for him to say or not.
He laughed. "Hey, I'd be there."
I pushed away the upcoming hard feelings. "True," I sat back down by the tree. "I miss you and wish you were here. I hate it. And oh my God, Shayla."
"Your new step-"
"Don't say it, Vlad!" I lowered my voice. "She's evil."
"Evil how?"
"She threw away my sleeping pills and told me I was too young to be depressed!"
"Unbelievable. What a bitch," he said.
"I don't know what my dad sees in her," I rolled my eyes.
"Beats me," he stood up. "Well, hey. I'll call you later. Carlos wants to go out soon."
"The guy you like?"
He smirked. "Oh yeah."
I chuckled. "Have fun."
"Bye, Livs. Love you!" He hung up before I could reply back.
I sighed and stared back at the house, not ready to go in. I stood up to head inside when, all of a sudden, Amber walked out. She stayed in between the lines while holding some jar in her hand. Her eyes immediately met mine, and she waved at me. She reached her hand into the jar and took a hand full of something that looked like flour. Using one hand, she placed the jar down then grabbed another hand full of the power looking stuff.
Clenching the powder, she walked towards me while letting it fall to the sides. It almost looked magical. She wore a long yellow shirt that looked like it belonged to my father. It stopped at her knees. I wasn't quite sure if she wore shorts underneath, but her bony little legs showed.
Once she was a foot away from me, she made a circle with the flour. "Hi," she said while clapping the power away from her hands.
I stared at her for a moment. "What is that stuff?"
"Look, we got off to an awful start," she said a bit too quickly. "I'm Amber. Amber Downing. That's my real last name. The name my mother and father gave me."
I was a bit shocked she didn't use my dad's last name. Carson. "Okay," I said.
"I'm sorry about what I said to you and about your mother. I didn't mean it. I made a mistake," she said while twisting a small strand of her uneven hair. "I'm sorry for peaking in the bathroom. I really am. I was just trying to get-" She froze and sort of stared at the ground.
"Get what?" I asked, looking at her.
She continued looking at the ground. "Sunny. She's my friend."
"Your fri-"
"I know. Dad thinks she isn't real and Shayla too. Sunny is real, and she's been living here before us," she said. Her gaze finally met mine. "She doesn't like you here, Olivia. She told me you're not a friend."
"Oh," I said, confused and a little bit freaked out. I didn't believe her, but then I had to think about what Vlad said. "Hey? I thought you only said your dad had one child living with you...There's two that just came in?" It couldn't have been this Sunny girl Amber was talking about. Stuff like that just wasn't real.
Out of nowhere came a strong gust of wind. Amber started to look around. "Hey," I said tapping her shoulder breaking her away from her thoughts. "What are The Lovely Suicide Children? Did Sunny tell you about them?"
"She was a part of them," Amber nodded. She smiled. "She told me about them and how everything there was perfect. Once I asked her to take me, but she said that she wasn't allowed to go back. That she didn't want to. She said they're evil."
That didn't make sense to me. It was beginning to sound like something she made up. I took a deep breath. "Okay then-"
"When you came here, Sunny told me to stay away from you," she continued. "So be careful. I'm not always me." She looked at my phone. "Be careful."
She walked away. I called her name, but she ignored me and went inside of the house. I thought about everything she said and made a mental note of it. I looked at the house one more time, thinking, was there really a girl named Sunny there before? I truly doubted it. Shayla did say Amber was troubled. It was possible that my dad did know about the note and she overheard them talking about it. I went with that and did my best to push the thoughts away. Who knows? Maybe she was tired or dreaming.
I was about to walk back inside when I started seeing these lines every time I blinked again. The lines looked like a letter I, and after a few seconds, it stopped. What was that? I rubbed my eyes. Maybe I needed glasses? I shrugged it off and walked back into the house.
***
The next day resulted in my father and I shopping for school clothes. I was glad he let me pick out my own clothes which were mostly sweaters, flannel shirts, and shirts with band names on it. When he saw that most of my clothes were dark, he gave me a look.
"You sure do dress different from Shayla," he said. "So dark. Ever tried colors?"
I can't say how many times I heard that coming from an adult. Wear colors, wear a dress, try a skirt, dress like a girl. The regular adult conversation starter when it came to shopping for clothes. "I'm not Shayla, dad. I'm Olivia, and this is what I like."
He shrugged. "She'll teach you how to shop."
The anger was building up. "I don't need Shayla to teach me how to shop. No matter what, I'm not Shayla. I'm me. I like dark clothes, so what?" I was serious. Who was I hurting? Why was me dressing in dark colors such a problem to him? Why are clothes such a big thing for parents if they're not the ones wearing it? I'm going to school not work. I'm sure jeans and a dark blue shirt with a band name on it won't make my teachers go wild.
My dad checked out my clothes. I watched him slide his card when the total came to $248. I was glad that he only complained instead of making me buy other clothes which I didn't like. That would have been hell. I don't know if he knew, but frankly, my scars wouldn't look so good with a yellow dress. At least not to most people. I kept them hidden behind fabric and bracelets. That was my design.
I pushed the cart forward as we made our way towards the door. "High School," my dad shook his head. "Was tough."
"Why?" I asked.
My dad smiled. "When you're the kid who only focuses on his work and nothing else, you don't stand out as much to many. A lot of kids made fun of me just because I wanted to finish my homework and answer questions," he laughed. "High School! Not Pre-K. Some people are immature."
That explained why he was such a successful lawyer I guess. What did that make Shayla because I had no clue what the heck she was? For some reason, whenever I saw her lips covered in lips gloss and her standing in her robe half naked, I could only imagine one thing. She took pictures all day. I bet she was used to a camera.
We got in the car and rode off. I listened to my dad go on about how he loved school but still got bullied. "Should I be worried?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Nope! Just focus on your educations. Leave off the boys, popularity, and being perfect. Education comes first. Do that, ignore the small things, and you have nothing to worry about."
His little pep talk made me a little bit more confident. All of that sounded easy. But would it be easy as it sounded? I'd find out tomorrow.