Year of Mistaken Discoveries (13 page)

He held his hands in the air. “Truce.” He pointed up at the sky. “Check it out—shooting star.”

I looked up and saw a streak of light.

“Make a wish,” Brody said. He closed his eyes, and I knew he was wishing for something. I felt an ache. What I would have wished for was that he felt comfortable telling me his wishes and that I could tell him everything.

chapter seventeen

M
y brain felt ready to explode. I pushed away the book I was reading. Or pretending to read. My brain was full and I couldn’t fit in another single thing. The huge Thanksgiving dinner my mom had made two days ago might still be blunting my thoughts. Too many carbs. We couldn’t do anything on the Friday because everything except the mall was closed, but Brody had picked me up first thing this morning to go to the library. I stretched and my neck made a cracking sound. We’d been here for hours. The past few pages the words had started to blur together as I tried to read. Brody was still working away on his laptop. Every so often he’d write something down and then go back to searching. He seemed to sense I was staring and looked over.

“Any luck?” he whispered. We were in a corner of the
library. We’d pushed two of the study carrels together so we could work on the project. It was sunny outside, which meant the library was nearly empty. It felt like we were the only people there.

“Not really. I made some notes about adoption law so we have some general research for the presentation. The whole system seems sort of screwed up to me. Everything varies from state to state and depends on when you were adopted. The rules keep changing.” I flipped the book I’d been looking through closed. “Based on the call I made last week to the adoption lawyer my parents used, we’re not going to get any info from them, either.” This was an understatement. I hadn’t been able to get past the secretary. Without my parents’ okay, they weren’t going to tell me a thing. They wouldn’t even confirm they’d handled the adoption.

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll find another way.” Brody pushed over the list he’d been working on. “Here’s every online site I can find on adoptees seeking info on birth parents. I went through and registered you on the sites with your birth date, her first name, and the hospital where you were born. If your birth mom is looking for you, the system will match you up.”

“Seems like if she was looking, she could contact the adoption agency.”

Brody shook his head. “In theory, but you never know. Maybe your parents didn’t update your address. You said you
guys moved when you were in seventh grade, so maybe she can’t find you through them. Or it’s possible she contacted them and they told her too much time had passed since she terminated contact. There might be some kind of rule about that. Maybe she thinks she doesn’t want to bother you if you don’t want to be bothered. If she did it this way, she might figure no one will bug you unless you want to be found.”

I felt a flicker of hope in my chest. “Do you really think that’s possible?”

“Anything’s possible.”

“It’s weird to think that there could be an e-mail that just pops up, and suddenly I’m in touch with her.” I tried to imagine what that would feel like to see her name and address on my screen. I had the urge to check my phone in case she’d already sent a message.

“Promise me if someone contacts you that you’ll talk to me first before trying to meet up.” Brody’s voice was serious.

“In case she’s a con artist.”

“Like I said, anything’s possible.” Brody twisted his head from side to side to get the kink out of his neck.

“What if she doesn’t contact me?” I tapped my pen on the book in front of me.

“We’ll give this a week, and if we don’t hear anything, then we’ll try a different way. We have some info on Lisa. There has to be a way to find her. It’s not like she’s in the witness protection program or anything.” He stretched his legs out. I wanted
to put a finger in the hole in his jeans just above his knee. He was tall enough that his feet almost reached the far shelf of books. “Presentations aren’t due until January, when school’s back in session. That gives us plenty of time.”

“A month.” I could have told him the exact number of days and hours, but didn’t want to come across as obsessed.

“Since we started late, we could ask Bradshaw to let us go last. That pushes us into February.”

There was no way to tell him the problem was that I needed to find my birth mom in time to add the presentation to my Duke application. I didn’t have until February. “I don’t want to push it back. I’d rather get it done.”

“You’re always in a rush,” Brody said. “Enjoy the process.”

“Maybe.” I smiled at him and shifted the conversation. “You know what I am enjoying? Your photos. They’re amazing.”

He blushed. “I’ll take more over the next couple of weeks. I’m trying to get all different kinds of shots that show family.”

“Have you thought about going to art school?”

“I don’t like the idea of people sitting around judging them.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure I’m up for the rejection.”

“Look at it this way: You’re already not in art school. Worst thing that would happen if you applied and they rejected you is that you still wouldn’t be in.” I reached over to squeeze his arm. “I’m not being nice. I’m serious. They’re really good.”

Brody stared down at his sneakers as if they were suddenly going to give him the secret of life. “Maybe.”

“How can you not know they’re good? People must tell you all the time.”

“You and Nora are the only ones who have seen them.” He shifted in his seat, his feet tapping on the floor. “Nora convinced me this project was the excuse I needed to show some off. You know how she could be.”

“Your parents haven’t seen them?” I tried to imagine it. If I’d shown even the slightest interest in taking pictures, my parents would have gone out and bought me a camera with a zoom lens capable of taking shots of the moon, made sure I was signed up to take classes with the next Ansel Adams, and had a full framed gallery of all my pictures down the hallway.

“My dad still has me frozen at thirteen. He asks me about sci-fi movies that I liked back then. He doesn’t have a clue what I’m interested in now. My mom—” Brody paused. “It’s like she’s mad all the time. Mad my dad left. Mad she’s stuck having to go back to nursing and working shifts at the hospital. Mad she felt like she had to move back here and live with her sister. Most of the time I try and fly under her radar.”

“Well, I think your pictures are amazing, and if your parents don’t see it, then they’re blind.”

“Parents don’t see their own kids. At least not clearly.” Brody closed his laptop. “I don’t know, maybe it gets easier when you move out.”

“At least there’s hope,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

“Always.” He smiled. “So which picture was your favorite?”

I pulled my knees up onto the chair and wrapped my arms around them while I thought about it. “Hmm. I liked them all, but my favorite was the picture of the little girl by the woods. What’s its story?”

“What do you think it is?”

I should have known he wouldn’t give me the answer easily. I pulled our project folder out of my bag and shook the pictures out of the envelope onto the table. I picked through to find the photo. I liked it as much as I had before. I held it out at arm’s length. “It seems a bit ominous to me. Like something in that wood is about to eat her.”

Brody turned his head as if he wanted a different view of the photograph. “The truth is less dangerous. I was at a park. There was a kid’s birthday party going on. Her mom had organized some type of game, and the birthday girl wanted nothing to do with it. Her mom told her if she didn’t want to play nice with everyone, then she could be by herself. She stomped off and sat down. That’s when I took the shot. I thought it was sort of showing the isolation you feel sometimes. It’s like your parents throw you a party, and it’s still a bummer. I liked it. I thought it looked sort of fairy tale–like. Different perspective, I guess.”

I laughed. “Guess I got carried away reading something into that one. I thought fairy tales were supposed to be all pretty princesses, singing mice, and happily-ever-afters. She looks seriously unhappy.”

“Not true on the singing mice. Read the original Grimm’s fairy tales. They’re some pretty dark stuff. Besides, there’s no wrong thing to see in a picture. Pictures are like crystal balls. Different people see different things.”

“What does what I saw say about me?”

“That you feel stalked by monsters.”

chapter eighteen

I
’d been waylaid on the way to the bathroom. My best guess was that she’d been waiting for me and pounced when she saw me alone.

“Ms. Scott!”

I froze in place. “Hey, Coach.” I should have known there was only so long I could avoid her. I knew she likely had regretted giving me time off ten minutes after she agreed to it.

“You know, I was happy to give you a break from things, a chance to get your feet under you after what happened.”

I knew this talk was coming. Grief was one thing, but it was starting to mess with Coach Kerr’s cheer program. “I appreciate it.”

“You know what I say, you can always count on your squad. And your squad should always be able to count on you.” She shot me a look.

“I know.”

“Good. When do you feel you might be ready to come back to us?” She winked. “It might do you good to get back to your regular routine. Doctors say that’s the best thing for an upset.” She bounced on her feet as if she had so much energy that she couldn’t stop herself.

Nora’s death had been downgraded to an upset, and I was now supposed to take advice that I was pretty sure she’d gotten from the latest issue of
Good Housekeeping
magazine. “I didn’t really have a time line in mind.” She had me backed up against the water fountain. The hall was starting to feel a lot more like an interrogation chamber.

Coach looked down her nose at me. “Are you sure this isn’t about Shannon and Colton? You know how I feel about letting boys get between friends. Boys come and go, but the friendships you make can last a lifetime.”

Her words stopped my heart. I could see her mouth moving, but I was still stuck on what she had just said. Shannon and Colton? Whoa. I swallowed and hoped I was able to keep my face blank. It was clear she thought I knew what she was talking about, and there was no way I was going to admit anything different. My heart skipped a few beats before it picked up its regular rhythm. I forced my chin up in the air. “This has nothing to do with them.”

She smiled. “Good. There’s a basketball game this weekend. We’ll look forward to having you back.”

“I’m not sure—” I started to say.

“You know the handbook lists that no squad member is allowed to miss more than four practices or games in a year. I’ve let this go on because of the unique situation, but your team needs you.” She tapped her finger on the copy of the handbook in her arms. Maybe she thought I wasn’t going to believe her and she’d have to show it to me in black and white.

I stared at her with my mouth open. “You’d kick me off the squad?” The injustice of it all burned white hot in the center of my chest. I’d never missed a practice before this year. I even showed up at regionals last year when I had the flu. I did that stupid dance routine with a fever of a hundred and one. I was always the one who volunteered to stay after school and paint posters for the hallways without having to be asked. Now I’d missed a few weeks of practice and a single football game, and I wasn’t pulling my weight?

Coach Kerr arched one eyebrow. “This is the cheer squad, not dramatics. Let’s not get all worked up. I don’t plan to kick you off. You’re a part of this team, but there’s no—” She paused and waited for me to fill it in.

“There’s no
I
in team.” My voice came out flat.

She clapped her hands together as if I’d answered a particularly tricky question. “Exactly! The choice to be on the team is in your hands.”

“I don’t—”

She cut me off. “Take time to think about it, because I’m
going to hold you to your decision. This is your choice. It’s up to you what you want to do. I like having you on the squad, but that’s the issue. I want you on it. Not hanging on to the sidelines. I hope I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.” She turned and started walking back to her office. Conversation over.

I took a sip of water from the fountain to give myself a second to think. As soon as I stood back up I practically ran right into Shannon and Colton. They were laughing about something, a shared joke. They were near enough that their hips were almost touching. Shannon froze when she saw me, but Colton looked almost glad. Shannon took a step to the side so they weren’t so close, but it was too late. It was obvious they’d hooked up. They practically had a neon sign flashing above them, announcing
THESE TWO PEOPLE HAVE MADE OUT.
How had I missed it? My throat tightened until it felt like someone had me in a choke hold. I could feel the crowd in the hall moving around us in a constant stream, but I was standing still. Everything in my life was moving on.

I bolted for the bathroom. I rushed past a group of sophomore girls huddled around the mirror and slammed the stall door closed. I thought I might vomit. I stood over the toilet, swallowing over and over until the feeling went away. The smell of bleach and the lemon cleaner that the janitors used filled my head. I heard the bathroom door open, and the girls slipped out.

“Avery?” I could see Shannon’s sneakers under the stall
door. She’d done up her sneakers with orange and black laces. She must have come in when they left.

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say, and I was also afraid if I opened my mouth, I might start screaming. Or throw up. Or both. And then I wouldn’t be able to stop. They’d send Bradshaw in to deal with me, and I’d be stuck listening to a lecture on how Wonder Woman worked solo and was just fine on her own.

“We should talk,” Shannon said, her fingernail tapping on the metal door. She waited for me to say something. “You guys split up. You even said you didn’t want to get back together with him the other day. You said you didn’t love him. He’s been really down, especially with—you know—what happened after.” She sighed. “We sat together at the movie and it just sort of clicked. We were talking about you guys, and how he was feeling like he’d hadn’t been there for you and that made him a bad guy. We’d had a bunch of beer and I wasn’t thinking clearly. I never planned it. I was going to talk to you and tell you myself. I swear to God.”