“I think so.”
“Is there anything I can do about it?”
I shake my head. “No.”
She rolls onto her side, holding her head up with her hand. “We have to get you out of this funk. Do you think some of it is because you feel like a stranger in this house?”
I nod. I do feel out of place here. “It probably contributes.”
“Then we just need to fast-track our friendship.” She rolls onto her back. “Let’s get to know each other. Ask me some questions.”
There actually is a lot I want to know about her, so I lean my head against the headboard and think of some. “Do you have a good relationship with your mother?”
“Yeah. I love her, she’s my best friend.”
Lucky. “Where is your dad?”
“He lives in Dallas. They divorced five years ago.”
“Do you ever see him?”
Sara nods. “Yeah. He’s a good dad. A lot like yours.”
I somehow keep a straight face after that comment.
She’s got two good parents and a stepfather that seems to know her better than he knows his own daughter. I hope she doesn’t take that for granted.
Sara hasn’t been through a lot of hardship. I can tell by looking at her. She’s still full of hope. “What’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to you?” I ask her.
“My parents’ divorce was really hard for me,” she says.
“What’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you?”
She grins. “Marcos.”
“How long have you two been together?”
“Since spring break.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah, just a few months. But I would bet my life we’re gonna get married someday.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t marry him?” she asks, rolling onto her stomach.
“Don’t bet your life on it. You’ve only known him a few months.”
She grins. “Oh, I don’t mean anytime soon. We’ll wait until after college.” She’s still smiling dreamily when she says, “I’m transferring schools so I can be closer to him.”
“Is he in college, too?”
“Yeah, he’s a fashion major at U of H. Minoring in business.”
“He’s a fashion major?”
She nods. “He wants to start a clothing line called HisPanic.”
“That explains the shirts.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty clever. He was born in Chiapas, so he plans to donate some of the income to help fight poverty there, if his clothing line ever takes off. He already has five thousand followers on Instagram.”
“Is that good? I don’t know a lot about social media.”
“It’s better than not having five thousand followers.” She sits up on the bed and crosses her legs. She moves so much. I wish I had half her energy. “Can I ask you a question?”
I nod. “I’ve asked you about ten, so it’s only fair.”
“What makes you happy?” Her expression is full of genuine curiosity.
I have to look away before she sees that expression on my own face, because honestly…I don’t know what makes me happy. I’m kind of curious about it too. I’ve spent my whole life just trying to survive; I’ve never really thought about the things that lie beyond that.
Getting a meal used to make me happy. Nights when my mother didn’t bring home strange men used to make me happy. Paydays at McDonald’s used to make me happy.
I’m not sure why her question triggers so much in me, but I realize for the first time since I got here that the same things that used to make me happy aren’t even issues in my life anymore.
What does make me happy?
“I don’t know.” I look out the window at the water and feel a sense of calmness come over me. “The ocean, I guess.”
“Then you should enjoy the ocean while you have it. Don’t get a summer job. You have the rest of your life to work. Make this summer all about you. It sounds to me like you deserve to be a little selfish for once.”
I nod in agreement. “I do deserve it.”
She smiles. “I’m glad you realize that.” She pushes herself off the bed. “I promised Marcos I’d go with him to get his hair cut and grab a late lunch. You can come with us if you want.”
“No, I need to shower. I might go for a walk on the beach later.”
Sara backs out of my room. “Okay. We’ll be back in a couple hours. Don’t eat dinner, we’re cooking out on the beach tonight.”