Page 48 of Searching for Nova

“No. He lives in the rich part of town. Goes to a private school.”

“And that means you can’t be friends with him?”

“I could. I just don’t want to.” I look around for a garbage can. “I’m going to throw this out.” I take my tray to the trash, then come back and get Rielle’s tray.

“Thanks,” she says as I sit back down at the table.

“Boy or girl?” I point to her stomach. “Do you know yet?”

She smiles. “Girl. Karla went nuts when she found out. She would’ve been happy with a boy, but she’s really excited about having a girl. She’s already decorating the nursery in all pink.”

“Does it ever bother you? Knowing you have to give her up?” I’m not sure that’s an appropriate question, but Rielle and I have always been honest with each other. She knows about my parents, the foster home, my issues with Ted. Other than Mateo, she’s the only person I’ve talked to about that stuff.

“It bothers me sometimes,” she says, looking down at her stomach where her hand is resting. “But I want her to have a good home, and right now, I can’t give that to her. Karla and Mark are really good people. She’ll be happy there.” Rielle softy smiles as she gazes at her belly. “She’ll have a good life.”

“Will you see her? After she’s living with them?”

Rielle looks up at me. “They said I could, but I don’t know if I will. It might too hard. Maybe when she’s older, if she wants to meet me.” She pauses. “You ever wish your parents had put you up for adoption?”

Most people wouldn’t ask someone that, but like I said, Rielle and I tell it like it is. We aren’t afraid to ask the hard questions. I’m realizing now how much I miss her, and miss our friendship.

“Part of me wishes they had,” I say, “I would’ve rather had parents like Karla and Mark than my own parents or Ted. My mom didn’t even want me. I don’t know why she didn’t give me up.”

“You were how old when she died? Still an infant, right?”

“I was three months old. My dad didn’t want me either, but for some reason he kept me around. I think it was to get dates. I remember him taking me to the park and using me to get women.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know how some women go crazy when they see a little kid. I remember being at the park and all these ladies coming up to me, then my dad talking to them. Some of them ended up going home with us, spending the night. But then I got older and not as cute and my dad decided he didn’t need me anymore.”

“That’s when he took off?”

“Yeah. We were getting groceries and he said he had to get something from the car.” I shrug. “He never came back. That’s how I ended up in foster care.”

That wasn’t the whole story. I left out the abuse and my dad’s alcohol and drug addiction and the time his girlfriend left me in a parking lot when I was four because she was sick of taking care of me. She eventually picked me up, but only because she thought she might get arrested for leaving me there. That’s what she told me when she finally came to get me five hours later. I have a long history of people not wanting me and leaving me.

“What about the other part?” Rielle asks.

“What are you talking about?”

“You said only part of you wishes your parents gave you up. What about the other part?”

“Oh. I don’t know. I don’t know why I said that.”

Actually I do, but I don’t want to tell her. It doesn’t even make sense. Why would I want this life for the sole reason of meeting Sean? That’s what I meant when I said part of me wouldn’t have wanted my parents to have given me up. If they had, I never would’ve been in the foster home and never would’ve met Sean. He’s the one good thing that came out of that horrible time in my life and I’m not sure who I’d be if I’d never met him. He taught me how to love, and that love even existed. Before I met him, I didn’t think it did. I’d only experienced hate—from my dad, his girlfriends, the friends they had over.

When I got to the foster home, Liz, my foster mom, was nice to me, but I didn’t trust her. I’d learned by then that I couldn’t trust adults. Even if they seemed nice at first, they could turn on you and be mean. Like my dad’s girlfriend, the one he dated when I was four. She actually lived with us that year. She was nice when I met her, but later, after she moved in, she hit me and yelled at me and would forget to feed me.

Easton was the first person who made me feel loved. His parents were almost as messed up as mine, but they somehow created a loving compassionate little kid who managed to break down the walls I’d put up around myself. That year that we spent in foster care together, Easton taught me what it means to love someone and take care of them and protect them. If I’d never met Easton, I’m not sure I ever would’ve learned that.

“I should probably get going,” Rielle says. “I’m having dinner with Karla and Mark tonight and I still need to find some clothes. You want to shop with me?”

“I can’t. I need to get groceries and then go home and do homework. I have to work all day tomorrow. Ted made me get another job.”

She rolls her eyes. “When’s the old man gonna die?”

I laugh. Ted dying isn’t funny, but hearing Rielle say it was funny.

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