The Importance Of Being Sara
Disclaimer: Don't own any of the stuff except the character of Amanda.
A/N: The importance of being Sara, or rather the importance of not being Sara. Hopefully not too much like 13 Going On 30, but I won't lie, that inspired me a little. Bear with me, this could take a while!
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Light poured into the little bedroom through an open window on the far side and straight onto the bed. Someone rolled over, a hand out, just to touch the other to check they were still there. Eyes opened - 2 sets.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
She'd never woken up beside someone so hairy and ugly and... old... before in her life! He smiled at her, she moved away, wanting to puke, and fell off the bed in doing so. From the floor, she looked up.
"Sara, what's wrong? I thought you wanted..."
She backed away, wondering why this guy who was in her bed was calling her Sara, it wasn't her name afterall. The man stood up carefully, pulling the sheets with him. She looked away.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you or anything. You seemed okay last night," He looked down at her, "I hope you're alright Sara, I'll see you at work. Do you mind if I use the bathroom to get dressed?"
She nodded, not knowing what else to do. The man scurried off. A silent tear fell down her face, just the thought of being in bed with someone... at least 20 years older than her, maybe even 30 was disgusting. Sobbing, she pulled a cell phone from her pocket, which she never even knew she had, and quickly dialed her mother's number.
"Hello?"
"Mom, I need you, something's happened,"
"Sara, is that you? Is this a prank?" A voice came down the other end of the phone.
"No, it's not Sara," She sniffed, "Why does everyone keep calling me that?"
There was a pause, before a sound that was like someone put the phone down on a table or something. Click! Someone picked it up again.
"Hello?" A child's voice floated through this time.
"Who is this?"
"Lindsay... Lindsay Willows,"
She dropped the phone, another tear falling down her face, and let herself fall to the ground, her back up against the wall. Who the hell am I? The best thing to do, as far as she could see, was live the day as normaly as possible until she worked out who she was. She stood up and looked over at the calendar on her wall. A few dates were circled with little comments underneath.
January 4th - Pick up Lindsay for Cath, 2:45
How can I pick Lindsay up? It was bad enough not knowing who she wasand now she couldn't remember the date either. Just at that moment the man walked in again. She suddenly recognised him, feeling stupid that she hadn't before, but even more stupid for sleeping with him... if that's what she had been doing. Argh, she was turning into someone even worse than her mother!
"Mr Grissom... what's the date today?"
"Mr?" He raised an eyebrow, "That's not what you were saying... or screaming or whatever...last night... urgh... it's the 6th January,"
'Sara' felt her stomach churn. So, they had slept together? That wasn't good. And why wouldn't her Mom speak to her? She wished she understood what was going on, it wasn't as if she'd bumped her head or anything... had she? She shook her head.
"Well I better go. It was uh... nice being here? I'll see you later perhaps?" He looked like he wanted to kiss her but was too confused to. He left.
The calendar had nothing written on it for the 6th, just a doctor opointment on the 7th, so she didn't know what to do. Before she had much chance to give the subject any thought, the phone began ringing. She picked it up.
"Hello... L--Sara..." What's my last name... think... oh... "Sara Sidle speaking,"
"Hey Sara, what's going on, I thought you were going to get breakfast with me this morning? I didn't come all the way over here for you too ignore me you know. It's a long flight from New Zealand..."
"I'm sorry, who is this?" 'Sara' bit her bottom lip nervously,
"Well duh, it's Amanda!"
Her mind was blank... who the hell was Amanda? It was a good thing she remembered her last name from the many times she had been babysat by Sara Sidle but she had never met any Amanda. It was all so weird, people calling her by Sara. She just wanted to yell at them 'I'm not Sara Sidle, that's my babysitter!!!'
"Oh, Amanda, hi," Not sure what to say, she flopped onto the end of her bed, "I forgot about breakfast, haven't really felt myself this morning,"
"I phoned you last night, remember? We arranged to go out this morning, over an hour ago. I knew you sounded distracted but... did you have a guy there with you?"
She laughed bitterly inside. Yeah, some man my Mom knows who is at least 2 decades older than me, she thought.
"No, of course not, I am way too young for that! 12 year olds don't..."
"Oh sure, you're 12! Sara, there's something majorly wrong with you this morning! Have you been high?"
High? What? She shook her head, playing with a lock of hair but not really looking at it.
"No, why would you think that?"
"I don't know, you seem out of it,"
"Well..."
"Aren't you going to be late for work?"
"Ummm... huh? What... yes! Right, I better go. See ya Amanda!"
She hung up before Amanda could even say goodbye, lying back on the bed. It felt dirty, wrong, not like the comfy bed in her own house. She'd never admitted it before, but she missed her Mom, desperately.