Page 78 of Wanting What’s Wrong

Twelve

Mina

I push away from the crowd of paparazzi, blinded by the flashing lights as I retreat back into the hotel. Nobody follows me, I guess they’re more interested in Jackson and his football career than they are in his girlfriend who just happened to win a place in a fashion contest.

It was strange, the way they were asking who I was. It made me feel frightened in a way I don’t remember ever feeling before. Well, not in the last few days I remember, anyway.

Until they started asking that, I thought…

Well, I thought we had been an item for a while. When Jackson told me all about how we met and dated and all, it seemed like we’d been together forever. But if we had, nobody would be questioning who we were. Could we have never been in public before?

As I lean back against the cool wall and close my eyes, listening to the drone of inaudible questions still being thrown at Jackson outside, I’m just relieved that’s not my everyday life. I don’t know how he copes with everyone recognizing him all the time.

“You all right there, miss?”

I open my eyes to see one of the hotel porters looking concerned. But I nod and force a smile. “Just taking a break.”

“Sometimes it’s nice to imagine being famous. But I guess the reality is something different.”

“I’m not famous. But my boyfriend is.”

“Jackson Sanders, right?”

“Right.”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Go Trojans.”

I laugh at that, and he grins as he turns away and heads for the elevator. As the doors slide open, I see a girl standing inside that seems vaguely familiar. I watch her step out, exchanging a few words with the porter as she enters the lobby.

She’s much smaller than me, short and skinny and bunched in on herself like she doesn’t want to get in anyone’s way. Wearing a big backpack. Part of a name comes to me as I watch her head for the counter.

Rosa? Rose? Rosie?

Suddenly, she swivels on her heel, glancing around until her eyes land on mine, and her mouth spreads in a wide grin.

“Rosaria?” I say as she heads my way, and she nods enthusiastically.

“I missed the contest, I’m sorry my flight was late.

” She throws her arms around me and hugs me warmly.

And I still have no idea who she is except a name.

“How come you haven’t been answering any of my calls and texts?

Have you fallen out with me or something now you’re a big famous fashion designer?

She rolls her eyes. “I was coming to try to find you. I just checked in.”

She narrows her eyes as she breaks the hug, then loses it and starts laughing, but I stumble over my words .

“My…my phone got smashed. I fell in a pool and hit my head. I’m sorry, who…who are you?”

She laughs louder. “Good one. You? In a pool?” When I just stare at her, her face drops. “Oh my gosh. Really? You’re serious.”

I can’t figure out why she thinks I’d be terrified. Because I hit my head? Who is she?

“It was okay. Jackson took me to hospital.”

“Jackson was there? Thank God for that. Where is he now, still in Harbor Shores?”

“No, he’s…he’s outside, being mobbed,” I tell her, glancing around and seeing the flashing lights as cameras snap photographs of my hunky Daddy.

She knows him, and knows we were going to Harbor Shores, which means we must be really close, since it doesn’t seem like anyone else in the world knows we’re together.

“I really…don’t know who you are. Sorry.

I have this hazy memory but when I fell in the pool I got amnesia.

The doctors said my memories would come back over time.

But, I can tell, you are important somehow to me… ”

“You’re really serious, aren’t you?”

I nod. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, I should probably be insulted, but I’m more worried. We’re best friends, Mina. Chatsbury Prep?”

“What’s Chatsbury Prep?”

She grabs my arm and starts us walking back into the hotel.

“Don’t ever let anyone from Chatsbury Prep hear you say ‘What’s Chatsbury Prep?

’, okay? They’re kind of proud of their reputation.

It’s a school, where we are both enrolled.

Or were. We graduated together. You really don’t remember any of this, do you? ”

“Not a thing. Last I remember is being in the hospital. Jackson was there and he took care of me.”

She nods. “He always was the one person outside of me that you could rely on. Let’s get a couple of root beer floats and you can tell me what’s been going on since, sound good?”

“I can’t believe you actually drink this.” I grimace as I try another gulp of the liquid.

We’re in the hotel bar, which is right next to the pool. Rosaria actually asked me if that was okay as we entered, as if the sight of the water so close might bring me out in hives or something. I shrugged and said it was fine. What else am I supposed to say? Who’s afraid of a swimming pool?

She sighed and shook her head, but let it drop.

“Nope. Can’t do it. It tastes like shit,” I say as I try to drink some more of the root beer. “I’m getting a real drink.” I click my fingers at the bartender until he looks my way. “Something to take the taste of that away, please. Tequila?”

Rosaria’s eyes are wide. She scrabbles at my arm, pulling it down as she stares at me. “Mina, what…? What are you doing?”

“Having a drink.”

She shakes her head. “ No. No, you’re not. Tequila? You’re eighteen . And I’ve never heard you swear.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She turns to the bartender. “She was only joking. She’ll have a diet Pepsi.”

“I’m not having a diet anything .”

“Yes, you fudging are, or I’m getting out of here before you get us both into trouble. My parents would lock me away in a tower for the next twenty years if they knew I was spending time with a… Drinker. Who swears .”

I glare at her a little. Who is she to order me around?

“Fine. Whatever, Mom . So you knew about this fashion thing?” I ask, and she nods.

“Sure, we planned it together. I helped you get your collection ready and put together the entry. I knew you’d find some way to get here, even when your parents wouldn’t allow it. Is that why Jackson is here too?”

“He booked a private jet.”

“Wow. Cool .”

“My parents wouldn’t allow it?”

“They want you to go to law school, not be a fashion designer. It’s all set for fall and everything. Your stepdad’s alma mater in Michigan.”

“My stepdad?”

“Er, yeah . You haven’t spoken to him? Or your mom? Wow, what have you been doing since this bang on the head?”

I blush. Like I’m going to tell her what me and Jackson have been doing. “None of your business,” I say as the bartender deposits my diet Pepsi. I stare at it like it might grow horns. “So…what are you doing here? Did we arrange to meet up here or something?”

She shakes her head, grinning. “Nope, I did all this on my own. Go me. Booked the hotel and everything. I even spoke on the phone to get myself a room. Terrifying, but I did it. For you . Then, the flight was delayed and I missed your show anyway.”

“Thanks?”

“I should think so. I was worried when I your phone was going right to voicemail and you didn’t answer any of my texts. So knowing how important this was to you, I figured you’d have found a way to get here. I brought you these .”

She reaches down and grabs her backpack off the floor, depositing it on the counter in front of us. Then, with a dramatic flourish, she unzips it and brings out…

“Barbies?” I say, deadpan. “You…shouldn’t have.”

She laughs. “I know, right? I love the dress this one is wearing. You’ll probably want to change it up, bring it off one shoulder or whatever. But it’s got potential, right? ”

“Right. Yep, I could do that.” I stutter, not wanting to hurt her feelings, but honestly… Barbies?

“I knew you’d love them. I found them in this amazing thrift shop at home. Reminded me of all the times we took the Chatbury bus into town and snuck off to all those resale stores in search of your precious Barbies. You want to take them up to your room right now, or—?”

I shake my head. “No, you hold on to them for now. Jackson might be a bit surprised to see me, you know, playing with dolls.”

She laughs. “What? He knows all about your Barbie collection.”

“He does?”

“Of course! How would you hide something you’ve been doing since you guys met when you were six? You have a whole collection. That’s how you met your brother. You had a backpack full of Barbies…you don’t remember? Well, that and the Andes Mints…”

“Wait, I have a brother?”

“Girl. Jackson . You really did hit your head hard, huh?”

“Jackson? What are you…? No, he’s my b…boy…” In a daze, I stand from the counter, stumbling a little. I feel her hand on my arm but I shrug it away, shaking my head. “Jackson’s my…”

Brother.

Oh my fudging golf.

I stare at my best friend as I back away, feeling my whole face start to heat. Flickers of warm and cold memories snap and flash like strobe lights in a dark room.

She’s saying something, telling me to come back, but I can’t. I want to leave. If Jackson is my brother , then what we did was against the rules .

Fudge. Fudge. Fudge .

“Tina,” I say in a daze. “I wouldn’t do this. It wasn’t me, it was Tina. ”

“ What was Tina? Who is Tina?”

My eyes snap up to hers as it all comes flooding back in such a deluge, the world turns gray. I’m spinning. Nauseous. My temples pound.

The party, the pool, the hospital. Oh heck, the hospital.

“Rosaria…” I’m so embarrassed I can barely say the words. “She was singing .”

“Who was singing?”

“Tina. She was singing Simply The Best so loud and inside my head, I kept thinking I was Tina. Not Mina…”

“Tina Turner?”

“No, Tina me ! I’m Tina. She’s… I made her up but now she’s real and she’s ruined everything .”

I put my face in my hands. How did this happen? Why did Jackson let it…happen?

But then, wasn’t I happy?

His face is right there, behind my closed lids, and just for a moment I smile. Now that I can see everything as it really was, he was so sweet to me. So kind, so loving. Daddy. I called him Daddy . And it felt right .

Yes, Jackson. My stepbrother.

Step. Brother.

But, all those years together. Does the step part change anything?

I need to get away. From here, from Rosaria, from Jackson. From everyone.

I turn, ready to run, and the pool flashes in front of me, looking so vast and deep and…gosh, it’s fudging terrifying. I back away from the edge, staring down into the water, my body quivering.

A middle-aged man points my way from the other side of the pool. “Hey, no running by the water, you two!”

I stare at him, trying to figure out what he means. Us two? Running ?

Then I hear it. Laughter. Children’s laughter.

Glancing to the side, two kids are heading right for me, not looking as they push each other, trying to knock the other into the water. Two boys maybe six or seven years old, oblivious.

“Watch where you’re going.” I whisper.

But it’s no good. The barrell into my legs. My knees buckle and I’m falling. Backward. Into space.

Like a dream, my phone goes first. In slow motion it breaks the surface of the water, sinking as I follow behind.

There’s a splash, voices, then, the water closes over me as I use my last breath to call out.

“Daddy, please…”