Page 10 of Searching for Nova

I walk faster down the sidewalk.

“Nova, would you just stop?” the guy says, sounding desperate. “I only need a minute. I swear.”

I stop and turn around, holding my hand out in front of him. “Don’t come any closer. If you want to talk to me, you need to stay where you’re at.”

He’s about six feet away, which is close enough for him to say what he needs to say. I don’t trust this guy, or anyone I don’t know. Actually, I don’t even trust people I know. I’ve been through enough to know trust is earned, not given, and so far, nobody’s earned it.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“I want to know if it’s you,” he says, out of breath from chasing after me.

“Who do you think I am?”

“Nova Morris.”

He’s right, but he could’ve got my name from Lenny.

“How do you know this girl?” I ask.

“I met her when I was a kid. We used to live in a small town a few hours north of here.” He pauses, his eyes on mine. “We met in a foster home.”

My heart’s beating out of my chest. What if it’s really him? But it can’t be. He left, and never came back. It took years for me to let him go, but I finally did. I freed him from my heart, my memories, my soul.

He can’t do this to me. He can’t come back now.

4

Nova

“Sorry,but you have the wrong girl,” I say, wanting to run away but unable to make my legs move. I can’t stop staring at him, and the longer I do, the more he looks like Sean. It’s his eyes. They’re familiar, like I’ve looked into those eyes before.

I can’t do this. I have to get out of here. I turn and start walking way.

He follows me. I can hear his shoes keeping pace with mine, but he remains a few steps behind.

“Liz was our foster mom,” he says. “She had a yellow house and a big back yard. There was a swing set and next to it was a sandbox.”

My eyes are burning as I fight back tears.

Why is he here? Why now? Why is he doing this?

“We used to play in the sandbox,” he says. “We both liked trucks. We’d play out there for hours, until Liz forced us to come inside. We used to—”

“Okay, stop!” I yell, whipping back to face him. “I don’t know where you’re getting this shit but it’s not funny.”

“I don’t know what you mean. Everything I just said was—”

“Shit someone told you.” I race up to him. “Who was it? Did you pay someone to dig up dirt on me? Is this some stupid prank your friends put you up to?”

“No! Nova, it’s me. I was there.” He reaches for me.

“Don’t touch me!” I yell, rearing back.

He raises his hands in the air and takes a step back. “I’m not trying to scare you. I just want to talk to you.” He pauses, his eyes locked on mine. “I know it’s you. I knew it was you last night. But I didn’t believe it until I looked at your picture. The one you gave me when I left.”

We asked our foster mom to take a picture of us so if we ever got separated or lost, we could show the picture to someone and they’d help us find each other. We never even considered we might be separated for good. We didn’t let our minds go there, or even talk about it, choosing to believe we’d always be together. When you’re five, it’s easy to believe in dreams like that over reality.

“It’s you,” he says. “I know it is.”

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