Into Your Arms (Squad Stories #1)(67)

"I've got a shit-ton of work to do," I say, which isn't a lie. I've got articles to write and pictures to fiddle with in Photoshop and reading to do. In addition to my quest to find my birth mother, I've also been slacking a little on my homework. Not enough to cause my grades to drop (much), but if I don't want to scramble at the end of the semester, I'm going to have to get my act together. Again. Actually, I don't know if I've ever really had my act together. I should work on that.

"That's fine. Don't worry about me." He smiles again, but his eyes are darting around. I've never seen Rhett squirrely before, and it would be amusing if I wasn't so curious what's up with him.

But if I ask and he tells me, that would mean that I'm involved in his life and I don't know if I'm ready for that, other than hanging and banging. And eating. Hanging and banging and eating. I don't want him to get too close. I can't let him get too close.

"Okay, I won't," I say and then stick my tongue out at him. He does the same and then I start thinking about his tongue and what he can do with it and then I need to get out of there. Fast.

"I'm gonna go. I'll see you tomorrow morning? If your food poisoning clears up?" I say. I have this horrible fear that he's going to vanish and it'll be like he never happened. I don't want that. The idea of Rhett disappearing is something I don't like to think about.

"Sure," he says and gives me a bow. He does that all the time, and instead of finding it irritating, I find it irresistibly charming. I find a lot of things about Rhett charming. Too charming. It's a real problem.



       
         
       
        

"Bye," I say, waving.

"Bye, Freya," he says, closing the door behind me.

* * *

My phone rings with a call from Melissa the second I get home from Rhett's.

"Hey, sweetheart. I just wanted to let you know that I went to your parents' place yesterday and got everything. They, ah, had it all ready in boxes for me, and I inspected your room to make sure there was nothing left. I may have also checked around the rest of the house in case they hid something from you. But we've got it all. Everything. Okay?" I'm crying again. This has been one fucking hell of a week.

"Oh, honey," she says. "I would give anything to hug you right now." I would give anything for that. I miss her so much it's like I carved a part of myself out when I left Texas.

"Me too," I say, sniffing. I really need to invest in some of those travel packs of tissues so I always have them on hand. I grab a paper towel from the kitchen and use it instead.

"Tomorrow I'm going to go through everything and send you pictures of it all. And if there's anything you want us to mail or bring to you, we'll do that. Mia is dying to see you, and I could use a road trip." It would take them days to drive from Texas to Maine, but they'd do that. For me.

Sometimes I wonder why I can't just accept them as my parents. Forget about Rebecca. Forget about my adoptive parents. Forget them all and just be happy with what I have.

I can't. I know I can't. I've already chosen this path and I have to follow through with it. I have to. I've already given up too much to go back.

Rhett

She knows something is up. She's not an idiot and I'm not a very good liar. That's why I couldn't face her this morning or at practice. I know about her secret and I can't un-know it. This would be an excellent time for science to discover brain bleach.

I was right. She's adopted. And thanks to my idiocy and bumping into furniture, I now know the name of her birth mother. Rebecca Cooper. Such a simple name that changes so much.

Fuck. There's nothing I can do now and I wonder . . . I wonder if the reason Freya is here in Maine is to find her birth mother. I mean, that would make sense. Why she's so cagey about her reasons for moving and why she came to a college that doesn't even have her major or a decent cheer squad. It all makes complete sense.

I wonder . . . I wonder if she's found her. If she's met her. Something tells me that she hasn't. That she's been putting it off because she's scared. I know how she feels.

My search for my parents led me to a dead end. Literally. They both died in a car accident when I was a baby. They were out to dinner for their anniversary, and I was six months old and staying with a babysitter. Neither of them had any close family, or family that was suitable to take me in, so I went into foster care and never really had a home. I've always wondered what it's like to belong to a place. To belong to someone. If I can give that to a kid someday with my job, then my life will have been worthwhile.