1.0 - Awake in Lucky Palms

 

“Nova!”

She blinked. Why was she so hot? And her arms–they were so heavy.

“You’re overwatering it!”

“What?” her voice croaked. She blinked again. It was so bright, and the sand beneath her feet was so gritty. She looked up to the sky. Rain clouds were forming, slowly passing in front of the sun. A shadow crossed her face.

“You goose,” the voice said, “maker, you aren’t even wearing shoes. What’s wrong with you?” Nova felt someone grab her wrist. She jerked instinctively, realizing too late she had been holding something–a watering can. Water spilled to the ground, beading up on the sand.

“Hey–Nova, are you okay?” 

She turned towards the voice. Big, brown eyes gazed back. A woman’s eyes. Sandy brown hair framed her angular face, which was speckled with light freckles. The woman smiled at Nova.

Nova tilted her head. “Who are you?”

The woman’s smile faded. “Shit–the doctors said this could happen,” she muttered, picking up the watering can, “let’s go inside and cool you off. Maybe it’s the heat.”

Inside didn’t look any more familiar, but it was much cooler–a damp, heavy coolness. Nova took in a deep breath. It smelled like rain, even inside. She followed the woman as she led her through a small greenroom to the kitchen. 

“Sit,” the woman ordered, “I’ll get you some water.” She bustled to the fridge and as she opened it, Nova noticed how sparsely it was stocked. She collapsed into the chair and wiped her brow. As soon as the woman placed a bottle of water in front of her, she snatched it up and started chugging.

“How are you feeling?”

“What doctors?” Nova replied.

The woman bit her lip. “The one’s back home. You-you don’t remember anything?”

Nova’s eyes narrowed. “No. And I don’t remember you.”

“Let’s not do this again,” she sighed, “think, Nova. Think hard–does your name sound familiar, at least?”

Nova’s face flushed and she closed her eyes. ‘Nova’ sounded right. But nothing else seemed familiar. And then it hit her. “I’m Nova. Nova…it starts with an L…” she trailed off.

“Lore,” the woman smiled. “That’s really good.”

“Nova Lore,” she repeated. Her full name felt strange, clunky and loose. But somehow it fit. “and you’re Sirena. We just moved to–to–”

“Lucky Palms. That’s right, Nova. You’re doing so good!”

Nova studied Sirena’s smile. When her lips curled upward, a small split was visible in the center of her bottom lip. Her teeth were white and straight, and dimples formed in her cheeks when her smile grew especially large. “We’ve been friends for a while, right? Why are we here, though? I’m not–from here. It’s too…dry. Hot.”

Sirena hesitated. “Do you want me to rip off the bandaid quickly or slowly?”

Nova’s back stiffened. “Quickly.”

Sirena took a deep breath. “Sweetie, you were in an accident with your family. You–you were the only one who survived.”

Nova grabbed the seat of her chair, anchoring herself as the room spun around her. She remembered them, vaguely–a mom, a dad, maybe a sibling or two. They were just shapes in her mind, featureless and far off. ”Gone? They…died?”

Sirena reached across the table and put her hand on Nova’s. “I’m so, so sorry Nova. It’s never easy to tell you this.”

“So we’ve been through this…”

“A few times, yes. The doctors said it’s going to be a long recovery, but you remember more and more each day,” she smiled gently, “every time you remember more, it’s a win.”

Nova nodded, but the warmth she felt from Sirena’s encouragement quickly faded. “How do I know–”

“That I’m telling the truth. Of course–let’s get your wallet.”

After retrieving it from a table drawer in the greenroom, Sirena spread the contents on the table. Nova ran her fingers over a plastic ID, tracing her picture and underlining her name: Nova Lore, bolded. It was new, a fresh ID that proved her as a resident of the Simnoran Desert. Next to it was a key, two gym entry cards, and a newspaper clipping. She picked it up and scanned the headline: “Fiery crash kills family…” She put the clipping down, refusing to complete the sentence. She picked up her phone next.

 “I don’t remember the pin.”

“Maybe we need to go back to the doctor,” Sirena frowned

Nova’s heart skipped a beat. “No,” she shakes her head, “I don’t want to. I just–do you know the pin?”

Sirena nodded and gently took the phone. “6155,” she said as she handed it back.”

Sirena and Nova smiled back from the screen. She couldn’t tell where they were, but they looked nice–hair and makeup done, clothes neat, lighting perfect. She had a notification from an app–Crow Pose–reminding her to practice her yoga. Nova opened her messages. There was only one conversation: Sirena Martín. She set the phone back down on the table.

“It’ll come back,” Sirena promised, “you never seem to have these episodes for long.”

“What do I do?”

Sirena tilted her head. “I’m sorry?”

“Like, what do I do every day? Jobs, hobbies, friends?”

“You’re looking at your only friend in Lucky Palms,” Sirena laughed.

Nova rolled her eyes. “Are you always this–”

“Sorry. You haven’t done much since the accident. You used to teach yoga, and you belonged to a community garden. You dated around a bit,” she shrugged, “but nothing serious.”

“That’s it?”

“Did you expect more?” Sirena raised an eyebrow.

Nova slumped forward. “I’m tired.”

“Of course. You’ve been sleeping in the greenroom, but you can take the bedroom if you’d like. It’s a little darker, and further away from the road”

“No,” Nova replied, “the greenroom is perfect.”

With nothing to remember, she fell asleep quickly. 

She wouldn’t recall a single dream in the morning.

***

Author’s Note: Oh wow amnesia–how original! I’m so smart. Anyway, a new computer, a new legacy. For any new readers, I’ve been attempting random legacies for about EIGHT years now. This time, machinery did me in as I lost my old saves.

For anyone who read my old legacies. Nova is the child of my original legacy’s founder, remade using an old template I had saved to Google Drive–she also briefly starred in a tumblr comic that was too much work for me to continue. I made some physical and personality changes to her.