Page 34 of 2nd Strike
“He’s not adopted?”
A clang in the distance as if someone dropped a tray. “I don’t think so.”
“Can you copy and forward the message to me?”
“They disappear two minutes after you read them.” He says this as if I’m a child he has to explain things to. “But I copied part of our chat. I’ll text it to you.”
Thank goodness Ethan is also a smart kid. “Is your mother expecting you home right after school?”
“Yeah, but she won’t be there. She’s doing an interview about you with some journalist.”
Great. But this helps. “Can you meet me at my office? I’ll have Matt—a cool guy who works for me—pick you up, if you’re okay with that.”
“My dad said we should do whatever we need to in order to straighten this out, so sure. But there are tons of reporters milling around here, trying to get a picture of me. Can he get me at the Gas You Up two blocks over? I can get there without them following me.”
It’s become a cloak and dagger operation. I could get burned for this, but how much worse can my situation get? “What time? Meg will be with him. He drives a blue vintage Mustang. You know what that is, right?”
“Duh, of course. I’ll be at the Gas around three-ten. See you after school!”
He hangs up and a few seconds later, my cell dings with his text.Arrow232: I don’t know who you are, but I may be Ethan Havers. The real one. My mom isn’t really my mom, I’m sure of it. Can we chat @4?
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, then click back to Meg. “On second thought, I have a new lead for you.”
“Tell me,” she demands.
“Pick up Ethan at the convenience store two blocks from his school at three-ten.”
“Hot damn,” she says. “Why?”
“The real Ethan Havers may have found us.”
16
Meg
We scoop Ethan up at the gas station at precisely three-ten—this kid is good—and head to the office. In the backseat of Matt’s car, Ethan’s energy is snapping like a downed live wire.
“This could be it,” he says.
Determined to keep him from getting his hopes too high, I peer over my left shoulder. “Could.We’re not sure yet though so try and stay neutral. Okay? I know it has to be hard.”
Matt stops at a light and eyes Ethan in the rearview. “She’s right. We see stuff like this a lot. After your mom’s press conference, all kinds of crackpots are coming out of their holes. Bastards.”
Ethan’s adorable face pops between the bucket seats and he swings his head from me to Matt and back. “I know, but this could beit.”
When I don’t respond, he sits back with a pinched mouth that gives him a…well…pissy expression. I feel for him, but we can’t allow a fifteen-year-old to count on things he shouldn’t be. He’s already had one trauma this week finding out Carl and Lily aren’t his parents.
Plus, Taylor called Matt thirty minutes ago, telling him they’d received five hundred tips on the Havers’ case. It appeared everyone wanted to cash in on their fame. Now we have a full-blown shitshow with Ethan taking center stage.
Anger whirls into a ball between my shoulder blades. What the hell was Lily thinking going public like that? Given her husband’s celebrity status, not to mention her own platform, she should’ve known better. Now every news outlet wants a piece of Ethan. All because his mother threw him to the wolves.
At some point, after we sort this mess out, I may have to give her a piece of my mind.
“She didn’t mean it.”
This from our mutinous friend.
I turn to Ethan who stares at me with wide, chocolate brown eyes heavy with sadness. Cripes, the mood swings of teenagers are maddening.
