Page 125 of The Otherworld

“But we should get Mom’s groceries home first.”

41

Sleepless in Seattle

JACK

“I hope you didn’t have any fun while I was sleeping.”

Orca flashes me a grin from the passenger seat. “Well, actually… I did.”

I clutch my chest with one hand dramatically. “Ugh, Orca! You’re breaking my heart!”

“I’m sorry. But Adam had to go to the grocery store, and your mom suggested I go along… And, well—afterward, we went to the church where my parents got married and looked in the register book to find her maiden name and the names of her parents. Adam had the notion we should figure out if I have any living relatives in the area—someone who knew my mom when she was alive and could tell me more about her.”

I frown. “Don’t you know if you have any relatives?”

“Well, Papa always told me that I didn’t… But sometimes, I wonder if he was right about that. Maybe he thinks they’re all dead, and they’re actually not. Adam thinks it’s worth a try, anyway.” She smiles dreamily, resting her head on the passenger window. “We were going to search the public records to see if we could find my grandparents’ phone number, but Adam said we had to bring the groceries home, and then you abducted me to go on an adventure with you.”

“Hey, you wanted to come,” I argue. “Besides, where I’m taking you is going to be way more fun than poking through some dusty old record books in a library.”

Orca’s smile falters. “You sound like you don’t approve.”

“I just think it’s best to leave the past in the past. You know? What’s the point in dredging up old memories that are just gonna make you sad?”

“It wouldn’t make me sad to know what my mother was like.”

“But she’s gone, Orca. It’s awful, I know. But don’t you think you should look to the future instead of living in the past?”

She gazes out the window. “Are you just mad because I asked Adam to help me and didn’t ask you?”

“What? No.” I flex my fingers around the steering wheel, a prickle of annoyance bristling in my chest. “You can do whatever you want with Adam. I don’t care.”

I do care.

I hate the idea of them going out together, searching for her long-lost relatives. I hate it because I’ve seen the way she looks at him—like he’s a celebrity, a god. If he’s as smart as I think he is, he wouldn’t be leading her on like this.

But I tell myself, Don’t worry about it. What I have with Orca is so much more than a crush. I could tell by the look in her eyes last night when we watched the fireworks together. That’s why it was kind of a bummer when I kissed her and she didn’t reciprocate. But I tried not to take it personally because this was Orca, the girl who’d never been on a date until yesterday. The girl who’d never been kissed or even complimented by a guy. I predicted it would be a little awkward the first time I made a pass at her—but she didn’t give me the friend-zone talk, so that was a good sign.

I still have time to win her over.

“So,” she says, propping her chin up on her fist as she watches me drive, “where are we going?”

“The big city.”

She gasps. “Seattle?”

“Don’t get too excited. It’s going to be the most stereotypical date ever.”

Orca laughs and starts playing with the radio. She looks incredibly hot in that little blue jumpsuit, her long hair woven into a messy braid. I love how she doesn’t hide her face behind a ton of makeup. I love how she doesn’t even know what makeup is. I love the way she smells, the way she laughs, the way she walks—with her head held high, taking in everything like she can’t get enough of it.

We spend the two-hour drive listening to all the cassettes in my glove box, most of which are Nirvana and AC/DC, some of which I supply terrible karaoke for, at Orca’s request. Finally, the city skyline rises in the distance, and I point it out to Orca. She can’t believe “those things” are buildings until we get closer, and they are towering over us, gleaming in the sunlight and reflecting the thousands of cars flying around us in every direction.

I try to keep my eyes on the road and not Orca’s face as she takes it all in, her jaw hanging open.

“Like it?” I laugh over the music.

“I love it! It’s amazing… it’s otherworldly!”

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