Page 56 of Searching for Nova

Instead of going up to my room, I go down the hall to my dad’s office. The door’s closed so I knock a few times. “Dad, it’s me.”

“Later, Easton. I have some work to do.”

I open the door and see him sitting at his desk. He’s not working. His computer’s not even on.

I close the door and sit across from him. “When are we going to tell her?”

“We’re not. She doesn’t need to know.”

“She’s 15. She’s old enough now.”

“She doesn’t know how to keep quiet. She’ll tell her friends and then everyone will know.”

“Yeah? So? Would it really be that bad if they knew?”

“Is that what you want? People knowing about your past?”

“I didn’t think I did, but I’m starting to think it might be better if they did.”

“Why? What changed your mind?”

I shrug. “Just getting older, I guess. And being tired of hiding it.”

“We’re not hiding it. We’re just not telling people. It’s none of their business. It’s a family matter.”

“That only part of the family knows. My own sister doesn’t even know.”

“What difference would it make if she did? You two already don’t get along. Telling her you’re not related would only make things worse. You know how Jenna is, always keeping score of who gets what. If she didn’t think you were ours, she’d go on and on about how she should get more than you.”

“That’s because you raised her that way. If you didn’t spoil her so much, she wouldn’t say shit like that.”

“Easton, enough. I don’t need your advice on my parenting methods. We are not telling Jenna about you, not until she’s older and can keep this to herself.”

“Why are you so against us telling people?” I pause. “Are you ashamed of me?”

“Of course not. How could you even say such a thing? I tell you how proud I am of you all the time.”

“But are you ashamed of where I came from? OrwhoI came from?”

“We’re not having this conversation. I don’t know why you’re saying these things, knowing they’re not true.”

“Because maybe they are. You’re from a good family. A wealthy, successful family. You care about your image, and what people think of you. It makes sense you wouldn’t want people knowing your son’s real parents were high school dropouts who lived on the streets.”

“None of that matters to me.”

“You sure about that?”

“Why are you doing this, Easton? Why now? All your life you’ve wanted to keep this hidden. You were just as adamant as your mother and I about making sure nobody found out. And now you want to tell everyone?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Why? What changed?”

I take a moment to think, wondering if I should tell him about Nova. If I do, there’s a chance he’ll blame her for making me wanting to expose this secret. It’s true she’s the reason I’m considering it, but it’s not her fault. She just brought back old memories, ones I didn’t want to acknowledge were even there. But seeing her now, I’m remembering those times differently. I’m realizing they’re part of me, part of who I am, and maybe I don’t have to be ashamed of them.

“You know if you told people this,” my dad says, “they’d want to know everything. Not just the parts you want them knowing. Are you prepared to talk about those things? About the day you lost your parents?”

He’s talking about the day of the fire, and no, I don’t want to remember that, but I do. It still haunts me. Sometimes I have nightmares about it.

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