Page 97 of Promise Me Nothing
“What’s a travel experience?”
He takes another bite of his bear claw, then licks his lips, my eyes drawn to the motion. “So, an example of something we might offer is a Wine at Night Tour through Italy. People who go on our tours will visit places that are normally crowded with tourists during the day, but they will get an exclusive tour and wine tasting at night.”
My mouth drops open. “Oh my gosh, Wyatt. That issocool. So what doyouactually do?”
“I just started working with them, even though I’ve been involved with it since it was a start up. I’m moving to London at the end of the summer to find partners. Basically, I’ll be setting up the international part. Hiring people, finding the locations and special experiences people will want.” He shrugs, like that doesn’t sound like one of the coolest jobs ever.
“And you know how to do all that? God, I can’t even imagine where to begin.”
Wyatt smiles. “I have a business degree from UC Berkeley. It’s one of the reasons I decided to head up to San Francisco recently. It was a bit of a vacation, but also an opportunity to work for my friend’s company, get a little bit of the experience I needed for this next step, which Otto has been planning for a while.”
“That’s amazing.”
Instead of acknowledging my compliment, he takes another sip of his coffee, then offers it to me. “Want some?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m not really a coffee person. It tastes like dirt to me.”
He laughs, his head falling back, his deep chuckle echoing in the quiet area behind the donut shop. “Of course you’re not into coffee.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
He shakes his head. “No. But you’re definitely not like other girls.”
My smile slips just a smidge. I can’t help it. I wonder if there will ever be a time when something like that doesn’t bother me. When someone saying that I’m not like everyone else will sound like the compliment it probably is.
But instead, all I can hear isyou don’t fit in, again.
“Hey, what did I say?” he asks, his expression concerned.
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
He rests his hand over mine on the table. “Hannah.”
I sigh. “It really isn’t anything. It’s just… when you say that. About me not being like other girls. I just have a complex about it. I’m trying not to, because I know you probably meant it as a compliment or something, just like Paige and Lucas have when they’ve said things like that, but…” I shrug. “I spent my entire life not fitting in and I’m just ready for that not to be the case anymore.”
Wyatt watches me as I share this with him, his eyes unreadable.
I tilt my head back and look up at the sky through the fairy lights. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a Debbie Downer about…”
“Hannah.”
I drop back to look at him.
“You’re not being a downer. You’re being real. And I appreciate that. I really do.” He pauses, looks down at his half-eaten bear claw. “I used to feel like I didn’t belong either. Has Lucas told you that Ben and I were adopted?”
My mouth opens a little bit in surprise.
Wyatt laughs. “I’ll take that as a no. Yeah, we were babies, given to my parents by two high school teenagers that weren’t in love and were just too young. I’ve always known. It was never a secret. But for years, I wondered if I would fit anywhere without understanding where I come from.”
He picks his coffee back up, probably to do something with his hands more than anything else, because he doesn’t drink from it.
“So when I was thirteen, I went in search of them. Wanted to see them through my own eyes. Ask the questions every adopted kid wants to ask. But when I got there, I chickened out. Came straight back home.”
“That’s not chickening out, Wyatt,” I say, reaching forward and resting a hand on his wrist. “You were a kid. It was so brave of you to try and get answers. To want to understand a past you might have had if things had been different.”
He swallows, and his nose flares. The emotion he’s feeling right now is so deep, so strong. “Is that how you feel about your own past?” he asks. “What things would have been like if life hadn’t been so… unfair?”
I puff air out of my nose, an awkward non-laugh at such a serious question. “I try not to think about what life would have been like if my parents had lived. But I do wonder about Joshua. I had an older brother, and he died when I was twelve.” I swallow, something thick and tasting sourly of guilt making the next words hard to voice. “He died in an accident at work, one of three jobs he had because he was trying to make enough money to get custody of me.”
