We’d just moved into the house. It’d been given to us by a charity that builds houses for poor people. Before that, we’d been mostly living on the streets or in homeless shelters. I remember being in an apartment, but only for a few months. I’m guessing my parents couldn’t pay the rent. Neither of them could keep a job so we never had money. I don’t remember much about my parents other than them fighting all the time. Sometimes their fights would end with my dad taking off, or the cops would show up and take my dad away. I was never sure if he’d come back, but he always did, and then the fighting would start again.
The day of the fire, I was playing down the street at a friend’s house. We got all excited when we heard the firetrucks. We ran down the sidewalk, hoping to see it. My excitement turned to panic when I saw the firetruck stopping at my house. I looked up and saw nothing but flames. I ran toward the house, screaming for my mom. A fireman picked me up and hauled me away, leaving me with the neighbors next door. The police arrived and told me my parents were gone. I was left with nothing. No family. No house. No clothes. No food. Nothing.
“Forget it.” I get up from the chair. “I’ll just go. I need to do homework.” I walk to the door.
“Easton, wait.”
I turn back to my dad. “What?”
He lets out a long sigh as he comes over to me. “I’m not ashamed of you. Don’t ever think that. The situation with your past is just… complicated. There’s no reason to relive that time in our lives. You’re ours now, a member of our family. And we love you.” He gives me a hug, then steps back. “Go on up to your room. Your mother and I will discuss how to handle this issue with Jenna and her assignment. If she asks you about it, just tell her to talk to us.”
“Yeah, got it.” I leave, not feeling any better after talking to him. He’s still determined to keep this a secret, even from his own daughter, which makes me feel like he really is ashamed of me and where I came from, despite what he told me.
I don’t envy Nova for the life she ended up with, but I do envy her freedom to be herself and not hide who she is, or where she came from, or what’s she’s been through. Half the kids at her school probably had a background like hers. They can identify with her. They wouldn’t judge her. She could tell them about her past and they’d understand.
It’s not like that for me. I have no one to talk to, no one who would understand. Maybe that’s why I keep wanting to hang out with Nova. She’s the only person I can talk to about this, and now that she’s back in my life, I’m realizing how much I need to talk about it. Burying it away, keeping it a secret, and pretending it isn’t part of me hasn’t helped me all these years. It’s hurt me, made me feel different, like something’s wrong with me.
I’m tired of feeling that way. And I don’t want to do it any more.
16
Nova
“Some guy’s here lookingfor you,” Mara says, coming in the break room. “He looks familiar.”
“He was here on Halloween.” I go to the mirror and fix my hair. My shift just ended so my t-shirt is dirty and sweaty, and I smell like grease from the kitchen. I’m a mess, not just on the outside, but the inside too. My thoughts keep alternating between wanting to be friends with Easton and telling him to get lost.
“How do you know who I’m talking about?” Mara asks. “You haven’t even seen him.”
“It’s Easton. He’s here to give me a ride home. We’re friends.”
“Friends?” She slowly smiles. “What kind of friends?
“Not that kind.” I roll my eyes. “Why does your mind always go there?”
She laughs. “Because that guy is hot, and when I see a hot guy, my mind immediately goes to dark, dirty places.”
“Well, sorry to disappoint you but he’s just a friend. We knew each other as kids, but then he moved away. I didn’t know he lived here until he showed up on Halloween.”
“Does he have a girlfriend?”
“He did, but they broke up.”
“And he’s just here to give you a ride?”
“We’re supposed to go to dinner, but I’m gonna tell him I can’t go.”
“Why can’t you go?”
“Because I don’t want him thinking this is something it’s not.”
“Like what?” She walks up to me. “Does he want to go out with you?”
“No. We’re just friends. But we did—” I stop before I tell her about the kiss. I’ve been dying to tell someone, but haven’t. I’m still trying to figure out why we did it, and what it means.
“You what?” Mara’s eyes look all around my face, like she’s trying to read me. “You kissed him.”
She says it like it’s a fact. Mara is surprisingly good at reading people. Sometimes I think she can read minds.