All Wrong

Chapter Seven Wednesday

Sydney

The teacher keeps droning on and on about biology and I swear I tried to listen but schools almost out and I have somewhere to be. I can’t stop shaking my leg in anticipation.

When the final bell rings I jump up and fly out the door waiting at my car for the Adams. Henry arrives first followed by Grace.

“In a hurry?” He teases getting into the car.

“Plans.” I say and he looks surprised that I acknowledged him. I shrug and start the car.

“Need any company?” Grace asks.

“No.” I say quickly.

“Is it a plan with boys?” Grace asks beaming.

“Definitely not.” I laugh.

“You have to eventually.” Grace presses and I sigh.

“I’m not ready.” I say flatly.

“Okay well it’s the last day tomorrow so don’t get too crazy.” Henry adds tersely.

“Mmm. Thanks for the advice.” I say.

I drop them off and head to the library. I pull my birth certificate out and start typing.

By dinner time I have next to nothing. There a million woman with this name and a lot of them gave birth to girls on my birthday. I wish I knew where she was now. A bone. Any bone would be nice. Frustrated and on the verge of tears I sigh giving up and head home.

Dad works late Wednesday’s so I order pizza and take it to my room. I turn my music on and try to think of something, anything that I can remember. There’s nothing. Not a shred. I pick up her picture hoping it will help but it doesn’t. I can’t even remember having a mother. My grandparents always told me it was because I was so young when she left. They didn’t offer any positive feed back in her and her parents died in a car crash when she was pregnant. I wonder if that’s what sent her over the edge? Was she always an addict? I groan and take a slice of pizza from the box. And then another. I close the box and lie down. Eventually I fall asleep listening to Little Big Town.

I startle when I feel someone touch me.

“Sorry.” Dad smiles down at me.

“It’s okay.” I yawn handing him the pizza box.

“Night kid.”

“Night.” I sigh laying back down.

I feel some guilt for trying to find my mother but I need answers. I need to know. And I know it hurts him and that’s why he won’t talk about it but I have a right.

If he won’t tell me then she can. I hope.

I roll over and fight to get back to sleep before I have to be up for the last day of our senior year. It’s hard to believe. Unimaginable actually. I’m nearly an adult.