Daniel sits back too, following my gaze. “She grew up in Seattle. They didn’t move here until I was born.”
“Do you know what high school she went to?” I ask.
“No. I don’t think Grandma ever mentioned it.”
I hold the picture closer, squinting at the bleeding colors. “That’s okay.” I take out my phone and start typing in the search bar.
“Don’t tell me you already found a clue.”
I laugh. “I’m looking up a list of Seattle high schools. That way I can see which high school has the same colors as the gowns in the picture.”
“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that,” he whispers. He doesn’t say much after that, but I can feel the weight of his stare on me, watching every movement I make.
It doesn’t take me long to find the school. That’s the easy part. Then I go through a series of web searches by changing my keywords. I search the school, the year they graduated, his mom’s full name, along with “Meghan.” I look through a bunch of irrelevant articles. Most of them are newer articlesabout kids with the same first names. There are even a couple with random people who have Daniel’s last name. I need an old article, but his mom doesn’t strike me as someone who would have their name listed on the honor roll.
After wasting a good ten minutes on that, I move on to my next best idea: social media. I start searching random hashtags with their graduating year until I see images pop up from their graduation. At first I don’t see any with Meghan or Ashley, but then I notice Meghan’s petite frame and bright blonde hair in the back of one image.
I gasp and turn to Daniel. “I found her.”
Daniel’s eyes are closed, and his head dips forward. He jerks his head back up but a second later it’s falling again.
That can’t be comfortable.
At first I pretend not to notice. I go back to analyzing the photo, trying to see if the random account I found has any other pictures of her, but I come up empty.
Out of the corner of my eye, Daniel’s head continues bobbing.
He must be exhausted if he fell asleep so fast. I don’t think I should wake him up, but I have to do something.
I don’t have a lot of options. It’s not like I can move him.
Slowly, I reach over, pausing midway because I’m second-guessing what I’m about to do.
His head dips again, falling against my hand.
My heart flutters, and I catch my breath. Carefully, I push him up, guiding his head to my shoulder because I don’t know what else to do. I let him rest against me, and his face relaxes. His grimace is replaced with a soft expression. I’ve never seen him seem so peaceful.
I breathe in deep and refocus on my task, trying to ignore my fluttering heart and the fact that Daniel is so close. Thepicture I found is on an old account, but maybe if I message this person or some of the other people they have tagged, someone’ll get back to me. They might have their old yearbooks. Or who knows, maybe they’ll remember Meghan’s last name. It’s worth a shot. I start messaging any person I think might possibly be able to help. Now, I have to wait. It could be minutes or days—and that’sifthey respond at all.
“Is Daniel okay?” Laura asks as she comes inside.
I almost jump at her voice because I know I shouldn’t be letting him rest on my shoulder. “Yeah, he’s just sleeping.” My voice is a little higher than it should be.
“I know,” she says, watching him intently. “He never does that.”
“What do you mean?”
“He has trouble sleeping here. I think he has nightmares.”
Is that why he’s always sleeping at school? Because he never gets a full night’s rest? My chest tightens, and the urge to hug him comes back.
“Can I get you anything?” Laura asks, still unable to take her eyes off us.
I smile. “I’m okay, but thanks.”
“Okay, well let me know if you change your mind. I’ll just be in the kitchen making dinner. You’ll stay for it, won’t you? We’d love to get to know you more. You’re the first friend Daniel’s brought home.”
“Sure, I’d love to.”