Page 4 of Searching for Nova

“Nova, it’s me.”

There’s something about his words, and the way he says them, that makes me freeze in place. I have no idea why, or why I’m having this strange tightness in my chest.

I whip around and glare at him. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but I don’t have time for it. I don’t know who you are and why you keep harassing me but—”

“Nova, it’s me. Sean.”

Our eyes lock and that tightness in my chest feels more intense, like something’s gripping my heart, squeezing it, making it hard to breathe. Why am I reacting like this? It’s not him. It’s obviously a joke. A sick, twisted joke that this asshole and his spoiled rich friends from Fairmont High came up with to mess with me. But how would they know? They don’t know who I am or where I’m from. They don’t anything about me.

The guy’s girlfriend runs up to him and grabs his arm. “Would you hurry up? We’re all waiting!”

He glances at her, then back at me. “I’ll see ya later.”

I watch as he leaves. He’s tall, like 6’2 or 6’3, and has thick shoulders and a broad chest. The Sean I knew was short—shorter than me—and skinny. Then again, he was only five, but still, if I were to imagine him now, he wouldn’t look like the guy who just left.

It had to have been a prank, but how did he know? How did he know about Sean?

2

Easton

I just saw Nova.How is that possible? Was it really her? I’ve searched for her for years, looked her up online. But I couldn’t find anything, not even one social media account. It’s like she didn’t exist.

When I turned 16 and got my driver’s license, I drove back to the town where we met, thinking she might still be there. I walked around the small downtown and asked people if they knew her, but nobody did. Then I went to the house. Just walking up to it had me feeling as nervous as the day I arrived there as a scared little kid. Then I felt this overwhelming sadness, remembering the day I left.

The lady who answered the door was someone I’d never seen before. She explained she was the new owner and that she bought the place ten years ago. She knew nothing about the previous owners or any of the kids who had lived there.

I’d hit a dead end. Again. I left there thinking I’d never find Nova. That was almost two years ago, and I haven’t looked for her since. And then tonight, she shows up at our table, at a shitty diner in a shitty part of town that we only we went to because of some stupid haunted house.

Paris was the one who insisted we go there. She loves shit that scares her. Scary movies. Haunted houses. Rollercoasters. She says it makes her horny, but she’s that way even without that stuff. The girl wants sex all the time, which makes me wonder if she’s cheating on me. We do it whenever we go out, but sometimes that’s only a couple times a week, which isn’t enough for her.

“I can’t wait any more,” Paris whispers in my ear as she runs her hand up my leg. She rubs my cock. “I want you so bad.”

“Later,” I tell her, moving her hand off me. We’re in the third row of Jace’s SUV. It’s too dark for anyone to see anything, but I’m still not doing it with everyone in the car. And I’m not in the mood. My mind is on Nova. I can’t fucking believe she was there, working at that diner. When did she move to Milwaukee? Has she been here for years and I just didn’t know?

What if she has? What if this whole time I’ve been searching for Nova she’s been right here in town? I don’t know how I would’ve found her since she’s not online. I never would’ve gone to that diner if Paris hadn’t made us go to that haunted house. I tried to get her to go to the one that’s close to our school, where there’s little to no chance of us getting stabbed or shot, but she insisted we drive across town, the part of town known for its high murder rate. When I told her that, she didn’t care. Nobody else did either. They still wanted to go.

Jace, Paris, and all my other friends at school have no idea what the world is like outside the protected bubble of the wealthy suburbs. They’d say the same about me, but only because they don’t know the truth. They have no idea know where I came from, what I went through, before I was Easton Voss, son of Stephen Voss, CEO of a large bank, and Penelope Voss, former district attorney who now spends her days doing charity work and serving on the boards of non-profits. Only my parents and a few of our relatives know I was adopted. My parents said I was theirs, and there was no need to tell people otherwise. I was okay with that, mostly because it meant I wouldn’t have to deal with people asking me questions about that time of my life.

Even now, my parents insist on keeping it a secret. They say there’s no reason to tell people the truth. They didn’t even tell Jenna. They had her two years after they adopted me. They never thought they could have kids so Jenna was a surprise. Like everyone else around here, Jenna grew up in a bubble of safety and security, having everything she could ever want. It was hard watching her when she was younger, whining and demanding things from our parents. I didn’t understand it. I grew up with almost nothing for the first five years of my life. I couldn’t imagine making demands like Jenna did and then crying when I didn’t get it. I think that’s why Jenna and I have never been close. We got along okay, but we don’t do stuff together.

“Why are you being like this?” Paris sits back in her seat, her arms crossed over her chest.

“I don’t want to be doing that shit here,” I say, keeping my voice down. “With everyone in the car.”

“I mean, how you’ve been acting all night. You’ve been ignoring me. You’ve barely even touched me.”

“I’m not ignoring you. I’m just tired.”

“Even when you’re tired, you still want to do stuff.”

I look over at her and see her pouting. She either gets angry or pouts when she doesn’t get what she wants. I’m starting to wonder why I’m dating her. We’ve been going out since school started in September, so two months, but the more I get to know her, the more she annoys me.

“Just let it go,” I tell her. “I didn’t sleep well last night and I’ve been spending hours at the gym all week. I’m fucking tired. I didn’t even want to go out tonight.”

She turns to me. “You know how many guys would kill to go out with me? And they wouldn’t just be sitting there, not even kissing me.”

“Hey!” Kevin yells from the seat in front of us. “What’s with all the fighting? We’re supposed to be having fun.”

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