Page 36 of Searching for Nova

“What happened with Paris?” my mom asks.

“She dumped him,” Jenna says, twirling her fork around her mashed potatoes.

“She didn’t dump me,” I say. “We’re just taking a break.”

That’s what Paris is telling people. She hasn’t talked to me all week. I want to break up with her, but I’ve been putting it off, not wanting to deal with her.

“When did this happen?” my mom asks.

“Last weekend.” I set my fork down and push my plate away. “Paris was mad that I didn’t spend Sunday with her and told me she needed time to think.”

“That’s just a nice way of saying she dumped him,” Jenna says.

“I thought you went out on Sunday,” my mom says.

“I did, but not with her.”

“You’re dating someone else?” my dad asks.

“No, I went out with a friend.” I didn’t tell my parents about Nova, and I’m not going to. They don’t like talking about that time in my life. They’d like to pretend it never happened and that they’ve had me since birth. It’s why they keep my adoption a secret, even to Jenna. I think it’s weird she doesn’t know. Sometimes it bothers me that I have to hide my past, but I guess it’s better than having to deal with all the questions people would ask if they knew the truth. Answering their questions would mean having to relive those memories, which I don’t want to do. The only memories I’m willing to relive from back then are the ones that include Nova.

Why won’t she talk to me? Was it the kiss? Did it scare her away? I told her I didn’t mean for it to happen, and I wasn’t lying. I didn’t plan to kiss her. It just happened. Seeing her again stirred up all these feelings, some of which I still don’t understand, like my attraction to her. I guess that’s not surprising. She’s gorgeous. Any guy would be attracted to her. But I still only planned to be her friend.

When I took her to the park, I just wanted to talk. But then, when we were sitting on the bench, I had this urge to kiss her. Maybe it was because of all the touching we’d done at the restaurant. Sitting in that tiny booth, my leg pressed against hers, our arms touching whenever we moved. Maybe it got me worked up to the point I just had to kiss her.

I was surprised when she didn’t push me away, and even more surprised when she kissed me back. Wanting her closer, I set her up on my lap. I thought for sure she’d stop us, but she didn’t. We were both losing control, and I knew if I didn’t pull away, we’d take it further than either of us was ready for. I don’t mean physically. I think it’s safe to say our bodies were on board with anything we might’ve done that night. But emotionally, we weren’t ready. Our feelings from the past haven’t been dealt with or even talked about, at least not with each other. I’ve talked about it in counseling, but that was years ago, and seeing Nova again brought up stuff I realize I’ve never dealt with, but just pushed aside. That’s why I stopped us before things got too far, but maybe the kiss was too far. Maybe that’s why she won’t talk to me.

“What friend were you with?” Jenna asks. “It wasn’t Jace or Kevin. Abi and I saw them at the store on Sunday.”

“It’s none of your business who I was with.” I get up from the table. “I need to go. I told Jace I’d be over there in a few minutes.”

“You barely ate your dinner,” my mom says.

“I’m not hungry. I’ll see you guys later.”

As I take my plate to the kitchen, I overhear my mom talking to my dad. “I’m worried about him. He’s not acting like himself.”

“I bet he has a new girlfriend,” Jenna says. “Some girl you wouldn’t like so he’s hiding her from you.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” my mom says. “He knows we’d be happy with whatever girl he chooses.”

It’s such a lie. If I brought home a girl they didn’t like, they’d try to get me to break up with her. They’re always telling me the people you spend your time with determine who you become, meaning I should only hang out with rich, successful people, or people who are on the path to wealth and success. That’s why I go to a private high school and why we live in a neighborhood with other rich kids.

“What took you so long?” Jace asks as I go down the stairs to his basement. Kevin’s already there.

“Family dinner,” I say, joining them on the couch.

“I can’t believe they make you do that,” Kevin says with a laugh. “My parents stopped doing those when I was ten.”

“Apparently there’s research saying family dinners keep teenagers from committing crimes.” I roll my eyes.

“I’m glad my mom’s not a lawyer,” Jace says before taking a drink of his beer.

“And she’s not even working. Just think how bad she’d be if she was going to court every day, dealing with criminals.”

“She’d never let you leave the house,” Jace says.

“Did you tell her where we went on Halloween?” Kevin asks.