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  “I knew you’d ask me these sorts of things at some point. I just didn’t expect them so soon.”

  I wiped my mouth with a napkin. “I do know my dad wasn’t my biological father.”

  “Okay.”

  “But it didn’t matter to me.”

  “Definitely not, Shay. That’s not what I meant.” Laura nodded, finishing off her breadstick. “It’s just that your mom wasn’t married when she got pregnant.”

  I stopped with my pizza slice halfway to my mouth.

  “It wasn’t a huge secret, but I didn’t know if you knew, or if it was my place to tell you.”

  No, I hadn’t known, and I wasn’t sure if that changed anything or not. I tried to remember what my dad had told me. I’d wondered things, but I usually didn’t ask since I didn’t want to hurt him. He was my father and always would be, blood ties or not.

  “They actually never did get married,” Aunt Laura said.

  Whoa. I set my pizza down. “Were they going to?”

  “I think your mom wanted that.”

  But he didn’t? That was the implication here, right? Had she told him about me, and he freaked out? Didn’t want to be a father?

  “She met your dad when you were six months old. They dated a few months and then got married.”

  “A few months?”

  Aunt Laura smiled. “I know!”

  Somehow it hadn’t felt comfortable asking Dad about this stuff, but it was easy to talk to my aunt. She was the one bringing it up, and that helped. But I already wasn’t liking all the answers. I wasn’t shocked, but this definitely threw a wrench in my idealized version of Mom. I had thought she was a Christian ever since she was a kid. And it’s not like I assumed Christians were immune to mistakes. We were all on an even playing field when it came to sin, but it was different when it was your mom.

  “Did you know my—” I almost said “real” dad, but that didn’t seem right—“my biological father?”

  A slight nod was my answer. I waited for more. My aunt focused on her plate. Then she carefully lifted another pizza slice from the box, but the strands of mozzarella stretched, not letting her take it.

  “I knew him. Not well, but I did.”

  “What was he like?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because once you know things, you can’t unknow them.”

  Okay . . .

  “Was he a criminal or something?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that.”

  I knew she was trying to protect me from something, but hinting at stuff like this was like waving a bone in front of a starving dog and then hiding the bone in the refrigerator. What’s the dog going to do? Stare at the fridge. Just like I was staring at my aunt. This was a part of me, like it or not. I needed to know where I came from.

  “Can you at least tell me his name?”

  My aunt blinked. Paused. “John.”

  Something changed right then. It was one thing to know I had another father out there somewhere, but he’d been like a ghost in my mind. Fleeting and distant, a mist on the outskirts of my life. Nothing solid. Not really human. But put a name to that mist? Instantly he solidified in front of me.

  John.

  Like the apostle. I pulled my leg up under myself and leaned forward, waiting for my aunt to share more.

  “This isn’t a good idea.”

  I’m sure my eyebrows raised. “You can’t just tease me like that.”

  “Greg was your father, Shay. And he was a good one.”

  “But what if . . . ?”

  Yeah, Shay. What if? What am I hoping for here? Not in a million years was I looking to replace Dad. That was impossible. But what if, maybe, I could have another father figure in my life to help me navigate some of the stuff dads do best? Like learning to drive. I’m not sure if I want my aunt to be sitting beside me reminding me of all the dangers I’d encounter. Dads are usually more chill.

  My aunt had a point though, and a sliver of guilt poked me. I didn’t want to be disloyal. And what in the world would my grandparents think?

  “Do you know where he is?”

  Aunt Laura wasn’t looking me in the eyes anymore. She got up and put her plate in the sink, even though I knew she was still hungry. Sometimes she forgot to eat lunch when she got really busy in the bookstore. Dinner was her favorite meal and one where she actually tried not to eat and run.

  Finally, she spun around. “I do, Shay. I’m just not sure I should tell you. Not now at least.”

  “Why not?”

  I could see the conflict in her eyes. She does care about me, but can she really understand how I feel? I am so tired of people making decisions about me and for me. Couldn’t I, just for once, be the one to decide?

  “Can we sleep on it?”

  I wanted to press her to tell me, but maybe she was right. I had a lot to digest here, and sometimes things were clearer in the morning.

  Chapter 6

  BUT THINGS WERE NOT CLEARER in the morning.

  I reached down and rested my hand on my aunt’s cat, Matilda, who’d burrowed in my bed sometime in the night. Her fur was soft under my fingers, and she purred at my touch. It was a good way to wake up.

  “Rise and shine,” I whispered.

  I spent a few minutes staring at the ceiling just stroking Matilda before braving the chilly room. My mind wandered. My first question was, did I trust my aunt? I honestly didn’t know a lot about her, so it was hard to base anything on experience. But if my dad had called her for advice, then she had to be trustworthy in some sense. And my grandparents trusted her with me, though it also could’ve been because they had nowhere else to dump me. Either way, my aunt took me in when no one else would. That counted for something. But why in the world wouldn’t she tell me where my bio dad is? She said herself he isn’t a criminal.

  The only thing clear to me now was how much I wanted to meet him, good or bad. I could decide where I went after that.

  I climbed out of bed. I’d laid my school clothes out the night before and dressed in them so fast I actually scared Matilda because she zipped off the bed. It was normal for me to wake up before my aunt, the night owl, and whoever woke first turned up the heat.

  I almost tripped on Stanley who’d camped out in my doorway. He jumped up when he saw me, wagging his tail. I rubbed his ears, and he made a cute groaning sound to indicate his pleasure.

  A few minutes later Aunt Laura shuffled into the kitchen yawning, still in her pajamas. I’d already eaten a bowl of Raisin Bran and turned on the coffee maker. It finished sputtering the last drops of dark brew, and my aunt mechanically poured herself a cup.

  “You look great,” I joked.

  “Watch it, kid.”

  I held up both hands, palms toward her in surrender.

  “Coherent sentences come after coffee.”

  I handed her the bottle of caramel creamer. She topped off her cup and closed her eyes, dramatically taking her first sip, probably to make me laugh. This was one thing I definitely knew. Don’t talk to Aunt Laura about anything remotely serious until she was at least halfway finished with her coffee.

  “How do you drink that stuff?”

  “How don’t you?” she mumbled.

  “I’m fifteen.”

  She shook her head. “Twelve when I started.”

  “And look at you now.”

  “Hey, aren’t you the kid who drinks Earl Grey tea like some English grandmother or something?”

  I laughed and let her have the last word.

  Stanley stared at his food bowl, and I remembered I was supposed to feed him and Matilda. Maybe when I was done my aunt would be awake enough. I needed to leave for school soon but didn’t want to miss the chance to clear the air.

  Aunt Laura sat down at the kitchen table. I fed the animals. Stanley took his time eating his kibble nearly one at a time, but Matilda scarfed hers down like it was her last meal. Then she looked up at me and meowed fo
r more, rubbing up against my leg.

  “Sorry, girl.”

  “Stanley needs to be walked before you leave,” Aunt Laura said.

  Too bad I couldn’t take him to school with me. Izzy would be beside herself. I need to have her over to meet him sometime.

  “Aunt Laura?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Last night.”

  “I’m still very concerned about you getting hurt.”

  I started to protest, but my aunt silenced me with a grimace. She gripped her mug a little harder than necessary. “I’d never lie to you, Shay. But I did leave something out.”

  My heart started pounding.

  “I realized that if you’re old enough to go through what you have, then you’re old enough to know.”

  I stood there frozen. Somehow, I knew this was one of those moments in life you never forget. A moment where everything got branded on your consciousness. The smell of the almost burnt coffee. The tap, tap, tap of Stanley’s tail against the cabinet as he stared up at me. Matilda’s plaintive meow. Even the time 6:12 emblazoned in green on the microwave clock.

  “Your bio dad’s name is John,” my aunt said softly. “But he goes by his middle name now.”

  “Okay . . .” I started to let out my breath in relief. If that was the worst—

  “Mason.”

  It took a good five seconds for her words to register in my brain.

  “The other night when you were playing that video . . . I didn’t know how to respond because I wasn’t sure how much you knew.”

  “What . . . I don’t understand.”

  Aunt Laura set down her mug. “Mason King.”

  “The horse trainer?”

  “Yes.”

  “Aunt Laura, what . . . are you saying?”

  “I haven’t kept up with him, but once in a blue moon I google his name.”

  It was my turn to sit down. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  She nodded.

  “He’s my father?” My voice rose a few decibels.

  “Bio father. Your dad will always be Greg Mitchell.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  Aunt Laura gave me a why-would-I-joke-at-a-time-like-this look.

  But it still didn’t register.

  Does not compute. Does not compute.

  This does not compute.

  The horse trainer I’d been following on YouTube since I was eleven is my father?

  “Did Dad know?”

  “That’s the thing.” Aunt Laura sighed, taking another sip of coffee. “I’m not sure.”

  “But how could Mom—?”

  “Maybe she did tell him, and maybe he was going to tell you.” She took a breath. “Maybe he didn’t want to know.”

  I don’t remember him ever saying anything when I watched Mason’s videos. Wouldn’t he have said something if he’d known?

  I rubbed at my eyes, still barely able to comprehend. She was right. You couldn’t unknow something like this, and a part of me wished I’d let this sleeping dog lie.

  But do I really want to live my life not knowing the truth? Especially about something as important as family?

  “Does he know about me?”

  Aunt Laura shrugged. “I’m not sure about that either.”

  “Didn’t you and Mom talk?”

  “It was a difficult time for your mother, and we weren’t always close.”

  I got up, frustrated with the warring thoughts in my head. A huge part of me was ecstatic that the man I’d idolized could actually be someone I could get to know! He could teach me all about horses, and I could travel the country with him and learn everything I’d always wanted to learn. Then I pictured my dad’s face. I wanted to be loyal to him. He’s the one who’d loved me and been there for me, not Mason King.

  Then there was the fear.

  What if he did know about me and didn’t want anything to do with me?

  “We don’t have to make any decisions right now,” Aunt Laura said. “Okay?”

  I could barely get out a reply, but I nodded, slowly taking Stanley’s leash off the peg on the wall by the door. I attached it to his collar and took him outside.

  Chapter 7

  ON THE WALK TO SCHOOL I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my coat and felt the soft rubber of my OtterBox phone case. I flipped the camera to selfie mode and almost started a Snapchat video before I could question myself.

  But I chickened out. My friends really didn’t need to know about this. After all, I’d just told them about my dad’s death and managed to keep my other biggest secret from them this long. I could keep another.

  Somehow I managed to get to school without bumping into anything or anyone.

  At my locker I felt numb, which scared me.

  “Are you okay?”

  I startled when Tessa appeared beside me.

  “Yeah,” I blurted.

  “You don’t look it.”

  “Thanks.” My tone was sharper than I’d intended.

  Tessa stared at me for a second, and for some reason I felt tears flood into my eyes. I quickly blinked them away.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “Want to talk at lunch?”

  “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

  Then she gave me “the look” she’d given me the other day when she’d told me I didn’t have to always be okay.

  “I guess maybe,” I said softly.

  Tessa’s boyfriend, Alex, walked by on his way to class and waved at both of us. She smiled, and I was glad to see her happy.

  “How are things going with you guys?” I asked, welcoming the diversion.

  “Good,” Tessa said.

  “Is it weird at all?”

  “Weird?”

  “Going from friends to more than friends?”

  I hoped she wouldn’t mind the honest question.

  “A little at first,” Tessa said. “But I don’t know that I’d want it any other way. Being friends first feels right.”

  I knew what she meant, and yet I didn’t. I had no experience in the dating world and not even in the guy-friends world. Maybe it was that I found it hard to know if a guy was being genuine. In the short time I’d been here, I’d seen so many of my peers jump into relationships with guys they barely knew, only to have it crash and burn in a matter of weeks or even days.

  Of course, I knew there were good guys too, Alex being one of them, but I wasn’t really interested in all that. Give me a horse and a dog over a boyfriend any day. At least animals were honest.

  I got through my morning classes without worrying too much, and even drama class breezed by. When I walked into the cafeteria and spotted my friends at our usual table, I joined them.

  Amelia and Izzy were eating pizza, and Tessa had a chicken Caesar salad. My peanut butter sandwich seemed boring in comparison, but I didn’t mind. It was my staple. Once in a while I added some honey to the opposite side of the bread to sweeten things up.

  I glanced at Tessa as I sat down, and she smiled. I didn’t think she’d push me to talk if I didn’t want to, but in some ways, I wanted her to push today. Just because I’d decided not to Snapchat my news didn’t mean they shouldn’t know about Mason. They could be good sounding boards for what I should do. Wasn’t that what friends did? I honestly wasn’t sure I knew much about friendship either, but these girls were the closest ones I’d ever had, and you had to start somewhere.

  “Did you know that kangaroos can’t move backward?”

  All of us swung toward Amelia. She’d just taken a huge bite of her pepperoni pizza, and the sound she made at our questioning looks might’ve been a “What?” I couldn’t tell through the food.

  Amelia swallowed. “I’m serious.”

  “And your point . . . ?” I said.

  “No point. Just fact.”

  I pulled out my sandwich and tore it in half. I wasn’t sure if I would be hungry enough to eat the whole thing. Even in Drama my appetite had been almost nonexistent, which was h
ighly unusual for me. Maybe I should table the idea to talk about my issues. I’d rather hear about everyone else’s. It was so much easier to listen than be the one sharing.

  “So what’s up?” Izzy pointed at me with her fork. She was weird with her pizza and sometimes ate the toppings off first. “You were even quieter than usual today.”

  “I . . . just . . .”

  How to put this? I just found out who my bio father is?

  Nope.

  My aunt almost lied to me?

  Double nope. Paints Aunt Laura in a bad light, and she is a decent person.

  I’m feeling completely lost and have no idea what to do?

  Much more accurate but a little too vulnerable. Ugh.

  I took a bite of peanut butter and bread hoping to buy myself a few more seconds.

  “I’d rather talk about you guys,” I finally said, deciding not to look at Tessa.

  “So . . .” Amelia spoke between pizza bites. “Let’s talk about Zac.”

  “Who?”

  “Zac.” Amelia said his name in a dramatic, deep, voiceover tone.

  Izzy giggled slightly, Tessa pursed her lips, and I didn’t have a clue what was going on.

  “And . . . he’s sitting right . . . over . . .” Amelia started to point in the direction of the robotics team’s table, but Izzy grabbed her arm before she could.

  “Don’t,” Izzy hissed but couldn’t hide her grin.

  Amelia wouldn’t let up and poked our mutual friend who was starting to blush. “He’s cute, I admit.”

  “Am I missing something?” I asked.

  Amelia nodded. “Izzy has a crush on Zac Lloyd.”

  “I do not!”

  Leaning forward, Tessa set down her fork. “I thought you liked Cody.”

  Izzy looked mortified at their teasing, but she didn’t protest too much, so maybe she appreciated the attention at the same time. I could tell I’d missed a few conversations here and was trying to keep up. I didn’t really know Zac—he was a senior—but Izzy’s older sister, Claire, knew him somehow. And Cody was Izzy’s neighbor. I think. I wasn’t really up on anyone’s crushes.