Page 17 of Lost Prince
Then she smiles, and it’s like the sun has risen for the first time. "You would?"
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. There's a vulnerability in her eyes that makes me want to look away, but I can't. Instead, I find myself drawn in, wanting to erase that loneliness from her gaze.
I give my head a shake to rid myself of the enchantment she has on me. "Look. I just needed some space. To think. To… process." I gesture vaguely at the car. "This helps."
Diana nods, her eyes traveling over the partially dismantled vehicle. "I can see that. You seem more at peace here."
Her observation catches me off guard. I hadn't realized how obvious my change in demeanor was.
“You do know you have a garage filled with cars back at your house, right?”
I hadn’t forgotten. I just hadn’t been thinking when I was walking around in the after-haze of nearly beating a man to death with his own gun.
“It’s hard to be home when they see a person that I’m not.”
Diana nods, her eyes full of understanding. "Must be tough, feeling like a stranger in your own home."
"I want to belong," I confess, surprising myself with my honesty. "But I don't know how to be the person they remember. And their concern… it's suffocating sometimes."
"It's okay to feel that way. It's a lot to deal with."
Her understanding both comforts and frustrates me. I don't want to need anyone's sympathy. I don’t want to talk about my fucked up life.
“Is that why you move all the time? Looking for a place to belong?”
Her eyes flash with pain and then acceptance. “I guess. Sometimes, I wonder if I don’t stay long enough in a placeto find my people, you know. I get restless, wanting the next adventure.”
“Are you restless now?”
“Not yet.”
“What was it like… growing up in foster care? Unless that’s too personal.” I’m curious, but it’s probably rude to ask. Considering my history, my lack of social skills is something that has always been with me.
“No, it’s okay. I bounced from home to home until I turned eighteen," she says, her eyes distant but not sad. "It wasn't always easy, but I learned to adapt, to find the good in each situation. I learned to cook. One family taught me how to speak Spanish, which has come in helpful sometimes. You just make do with what comes along, you know?"
I shake my head, amazed at her resilience. "How can you be so positive about it?"
Diana laughs. "What's the alternative? Being bitter won't change my past. I choose to focus on the future, on the family I might build someday."
Her optimism is foreign to me, almost incomprehensible. Here I am, surrounded by a family that wants me, and all I can feel is frustration and anger. Meanwhile, Diana's been alone her whole life, yet she radiates hope.
Her words make me think about my own situation in a new light. I may not remember my family, but they're here, trying their best to help me. Maybe I've been too quick to push them away.
“I’m not very positive.”
She reaches out, her hand hovering near mine before she thinks better of it and pulls back. It’s ridiculous how badly I want her to touch me.
"It's okay to struggle with this, Lazaro. Just… don't shut them out completely, yeah?"
I need to get my shit together and stop being such a jerk. With a sigh, I wipe my hands on a nearby rag. “Can you give me a ride home?”
Diana's face lights up with another radiant smile that makes my brain short circuit.
"Of course.” She pulls her keys from her purse.
As we reach the door, Diana waves at the mechanic lurking in the shadows. "Thank you.”
I pause, turning to the mechanic who watches me warily. “"Hey, uh… thanks.”