Page 88 of Encounter

What the hell do I even feel toward this kid?

Letting out a low, sleepy growl, Galen stretched out next to me and made the most precious face right before opening his eyes.

“Mhmmm?” He mumbled, making me smile. “Wh— What time is it?”

“Not sure,” I said, glancing at my phone on the side table and then Kitty, peacefully sleeping on her cat tree. “Can’t be too late, since this missy hasn't clawed my face off wantin’ food yet.”

Smiling sleepily, Galen stretched again. It took him a moment until he blindly found his glasses next to him. When he put them on, he seemed to wake up almost like he turned on a switch.

As my attention was drawn back to the photo frame behind him, I lowered my gaze and tried to fixate back on Galen instead.

He must have noticed something on my face—judging by his expression. Softening his gaze and sinking into the pillows, he drew the blanket over his chest. “You seem really... thoughtful,” he noted, studying me, and I could already see the wheels turning behind his eyes as he wondered if it was somethinghedid.

I chuckled, brushing it off.

I needed to change the subject. This wasn’t the right moment to tell himanything. I didn’t want to ruin this. Whatever it was, my chest was light—and with barely any pain for the first time in a while—and I didn’t want this tender atmosphere to go away.

I relaxed my body and shoulders, meeting his eyes. “Iwasthinkin’ about somethin’. Guess it’s ‘cuz I told you about my father. You know, maybe you could take up Mandarin at school or somethin’ to... feel a little closer to your mother.” Was it weird for me to think about things like that? To give him advice like my own relationships with my parents weren’t in a completely disastrous shape?

Watching carefully for his reaction, I held my breath and observed. There always seemed to be so much going on behind there. I wished I could see into his head sometimes.

Wonder what he really thinks of me...

“Cantonese,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Cantonese, she... My mom was from the Guangxi region. They speak a dialect of Cantonese there, but everyone knows standard Mandarin as well, so I guess you... you’re right anyway.” Fiddling with his fingers in his lap and staring into the blanket, he blurted out those words.

“I see you’ve thought about it before.”

Should I talk to him about this? He’s a big boy—surely, dealing with this would help with his mental state.

“Told me you knew nothin’ about her...” I threw it out there, intrigued.

As he stopped playing with his hands, he sighed and leaned back, still avoiding my gaze.

“Well, Dad wouldn’t tell me much at all. Some things I remember from when I was young, when he still listened to the shrinks telling him he should talk about her with me. When it became clear to him it wouldn’t justfixeverything, the visits stopped, and so did the answers about Mom... He refused to even acknowledge it after,” Galen said, voice trembling. He took in a deep breath and steadied it before continuing. “Most of it I pieced together. Heard some from my grandparents throughout the years when they didn’t know I was listening.”

I drew my brows together over the implication of his last statement. It didn’t sound like that was anything good.

“Tell me then,” I spoke softly, finally earning his attention again.

The vulnerable hesitation in his eyes urged my hand to reach for his—to calm him down, to ground him—but I held back. It was important for him to do this on his own. Parting his lips, Galen kept quiet for a few seconds, but when I smiled at him, it was like a wall he put up quickly crumbled.

“Dad... met her when he was getting some work experience at one of my grandparent’s acquaintance’s big corporations in China. I don’t know the details,” he reiterated, and drew his knees toward his chest, resting his cheek on them. “Mom’s family went througha lotin the Cultural Revolution. Lost a lot. She was born at the end of it, but still... I think it’s the kind of thing that lingers long after. She... She was a journalist.” He smiled, almost proudly, though the emotion didn’t reach his eyes. “I think she was fed up with the censorship and the government. I’ll... never know, really. I wish I could.”

My heart tugged listening to him.

At least I was lucky enough to remember, to know. I knew my mother chose to leave us. It made it easier to hate her for a time, and to accept and understand her decisions later. Galen didn’t have that luxury. Looking at him, I could tell he would give anything for knowing her before she did what she did.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, leaning closer to him. Like he didn’t realize I was there, Galen jerked away and looked at me. Embarrassed, he tried to hide it, but I still noticed his glazed over eyes. “Was never the most attentive pupil, but... I know a little ‘bout the Revolution.” I worried about my ability to make him feel better but kept going anyway. “All the violence, mass killings. Cannibalism, even. That stuff stays for generations. Was probably partly why—” I paused, and Galen’s body twitched as it realized what I was about to say.“It was probably party to blame for her issues, her pain. Too much to bare.”

Sighing awkwardly, I rubbed the back of my head.

I was never one for serious talks like this.Cruel, violent actions—that’s all I’m good at.

“Anyway,” Galen mumbled, chuckling anxiously. “I’ve thought about it, but I already have too many extra classes.” He looked down at his hands, held together in his lap like he was praying. The corners of his lips drooped, as if the happiness drained out of him.

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