“What for?”
“For you,” they both said together.
Mom set the box back down on the table. “It’s for you to send in.”
“Why?”
They exchanged glances. “You might be able to find your father or someone in your father’s family with it,” Dad said.
I stood there staring at them, not knowing what to say. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this. I wasn’t kidding when I told Zion’s family I didn’t like surprises. And this was a big one. I felt completely unprepared.
“It’s just that,” Mom said, “ever since you found out Josephine is your grandmother and that your birth mother died, you keep bringing up your birth father. We understand if you’re curious about who he is, so we thought this might help you find that out.”
I stared down at the box like it was a scorpion sitting on our kitchen table, its venom-filled tail pointed directly at me. But it was just a box. “I’m mostly joking when I say that stuff.”
“Maybe sometimes you are,” Mom said. “But sometimes you’re not. There must be a reason why you keep mentioning him to us and to Josephine.”
“All you have to do is spit in a tube, Sheebs, and send it in,” Dad said. “Simple as that.”
Simple as that.
“Then they’ll contact you if you have a DNA connection to anyone in the database,” Mom added.
I kept staring at the box—just a harmless box. How could a box feel so scary? Even if I took it, that didn’t mean I had to use it. I didn’t have to make this huge life-changing choice right here in the middle of the kitchen at this very moment.
Mom and Dad were staring at me, so I picked it up between my chin and shoulder and carried it to my room. I set it on my desk, then sat down and stared at it some more. “Find My Family,” I said to myself.
But did I want to? What if he was a bad person? Like, what if he was an actual real-life meanie? What if he was a big bully like Joshua? What if he was a snob like Janessa? I wasn’t sure I could handle that. What if finding him was another great big disappointment in my life right now?
Or worse, what if I was a disappointment to him?
26
Leave me alone
So I can wallow.
Go away.
Please don’t follow.
— We Are Librarians
«HEY,» LANDO SAID, WALKING UP behind me at my locker. “You having trouble with that?”
I dropped the lock from my toes with frustration. “Always,” I said. “I am always having trouble with that.”
“What’s your code?” Lando asked.
I looked around. “I can’t tell you that out loud.” Since my locker had nothing in it besides textbooks and garbage, literally, I was a lot more concerned about what someone might put in my locker when I wasn’t looking than what they might take out.
Lando leaned in close and put his ear to my mouth. “Whisper it to me.”
I suddenly couldn’t remember my code as I stood there frozen, breathing in Lando’s ear. “Uh . . . three, sixteen, eleven,” I said.
He bent down and unlocked my locker for me. “What do you need?” he asked.
What did I need? What classes did I have this afternoon? I tried to take all my books for my morning classes and all my books for my afternoon classes at the same time so I’d only have to visit my locker twice per day.
Lando looked up at me, his eyes as bright as his smile. “Algebra, Bio, and English,” I told him.
I was so incredibly glad I’d recently cleaned the rotting peanut butter and jelly sandwich out of my locker as he hunted for my books. “Do you want to keep these?” he asked as he opened my shoulder bag.
“No, those can go back.”
He exchanged my books then slammed my locker shut and relocked it. He stood up and faced me. “You have algebra right now?”
“Yeah.”
“You want to walk together?”
I took a step back. “Why?”
Lando frowned. “Geez, Aven, why you always asking me why? Why I want to dance with you. Why I want to walk with you.”
“Well . . . ” I slipped my foot in and out of my flip-flop. “Why do you?”
“You think I have some ulterior motive?”
I looked down at my green flip-flop and shook my head. “I don’t know.” I glanced up at him. “Do you?”
“Did it ever occur to you that I like hanging out with you?”
I was about to ask why, but stopped myself. “You have a lot of other friends to hang out with.”
Lando’s head shot back, and I realized how that had sounded, but that wasn’t how I’d meant it. Why would Lando want to hang out with me when he could hang out with kids who were cooler than me?
“Harsh, Aven. If you want me to leave you alone—”
“I think that would be best. For everybody.”
Lando stared at me for a moment, and I looked back down at my flip-flops. I didn’t want him to see the tears forming in my eyes as he turned around and walked away.
27
I’m losing myself
My own voice I can’t hear.
Put my feelings on the shelf.
Except anger and fear.
— Kids from Alcatraz
CONNOR AND I SAT IN THE rocking chairs on the front porch of the soda shop together eating ice cream.
“You’re so quiet today,” he said. “I could have sat at home by myself not talking to anyone. Again.”
“Sorry,” I said.
“What’s wrong now?”
Everything. Everything was wrong. “I don’t know,” I said, which was sort of true. I was confused—confused about whether I wanted to find my birth father, confused about whether I wanted to ride in the horse show anymore, confused about Lando.
Lando was Zion’s brother, so we should be friends, right? Why had things gotten so weird with him? Why did he ask me to dance? Why did he want to walk with me to class? Was he feeling sorry for me? That was the absolute worst thing I could think of—that he felt sorry for me and was trying to hang out with me out of pity. And it was made worse by the fact that every time I thought about him, my heart sped up a little bit, and my feet shook a little bit, and my mouth went a little bit dry.
I couldn’t like Lando. Not like him, like him. I was sure lots of girls liked Lando. I would be setting myself up for major disappointment. If only I could shut it off. Josephine was so unhelpful.
Connor barked, startling me out of my thoughts. “So what’s up with you and Lando?” he asked, as though he had been able to hear the ramblings in my head.
I turned to him. “Why are you asking me about him?”
He shrugged. “Zion told me you all went to homecoming together and that you freaked out and busted up your ankle when Lando asked you to dance with him.”
I scowled. “Geez, does everyone have to know everything?”
“I think if you had it your way, no one would know anything.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that you’ve been awfully secretive about stuff lately.”
“What stuff?”
“How should I know? You’re all secretive about it.”
“Maybe I don’t want people in my business,” I said. “Sometimes I wish everyone would leave me alone.”
“Including me.” Connor blinked his eyes and clucked his tongue as he frowned down at his ice cream.
“Well, how am I supposed to be a hermit when everyone’s always bugging me?”
Connor got up and threw his ice cream in the trash. “You better be careful, Aven, or you might get your wish.” He walked down the steps, and I watched as he walked across the dirt to the petting zoo. He sat down in the dirt with Spaghetti.
The door of the soda shop opened and Henry walked outside. “Everything okay?” he asked. “You two don’t seem very happy.”
“I don’t feel very happy,” I said. “I feel all messed up.”
“Messed up, huh?” Henry sat d
own in a rocking chair. He smiled at me, and I was glad he was having a good day.
“I hate high school,” I told him.
“Is it all that bad?”
“It’s the worst.”
Henry and I sat there quietly. At one point Connor glanced over at me and gave me a dirty look. Henry chuckled. “So what are you two fighting about?”
“I don’t know. I told him I wanted everyone to leave me alone so I could proceed with my plans to become a hermit and he got all offended.”
“A hermit, huh?” Henry said. “How are you going to ride in the horse show if you’re a hermit?”
“I won’t. I won’t ride in the horse show. I won’t go to school. I won’t have to deal with boys making fun of me. I won’t have to deal with questions about my birth father. I won’t have to deal with fights with my friends and cranky grandmothers.” I took a deep breath. “Sounds like heaven.”
“Hm,” Henry said. “Sounds like you’re being a big chicken.”
I glared at him. “I am not.”
“Sounds like you want to hide from life instead of facing it head on.” Henry shook his head. “I guess I don’t know you as well as I thought I did.”
“Half the time you don’t know who I am at all.”
Henry looked sadly across at the petting zoo.
“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. High school is making me crazy.”
“I never thought you’d let something as silly as high school beat you.”
I bit down on my lip. “When I finished last year, I felt like . . . like I could face anything. And then Connor moved away, and this boy . . . ”
Henry’s eyes cut to me. “This boy, what?”
“He humiliated me. And he keeps humiliating me. And I keep getting farther and farther away from myself, like I’m up in a plane and I’m trying to find myself down on earth, but I’m just a little speck I can’t even see, and I’m like, ‘Hey, Aven! It’s me, Aven!’ But I’m a tiny speck, so I don’t know if I can see myself.”
Henry looked incredibly confused, which made sense, since what I said made no sense at all. “I’m not sure about anything anymore,” I told him. “I’m not sure if someone really likes me or if he’s, I don’t know, making fun of me, I guess. I don’t think he would, but I feel like I can’t trust anyone anymore.”
Henry nodded. “You going to let one mean boy have this much power over you?” He looked back at the petting zoo. “You going to let him ruin your friendships? You going to let him ruin what should be the best years of your life?”
“Whoever said high school is the best years of your life was probably homeschooled.” I watched Connor. He glanced up at me then quickly turned his attention back to Spaghetti. I smiled. “How’d you get so wise anyway, Henry?”
“I’m old,” he declared. “Lots of time to get lots of wisdom. And I was bullied, too, you know. There were always bullies in the orphanages.”
“Were there?”
“Oh, yeah. And I didn’t have a family to help me through it. But I did have friends—good friends in the orphanages. We helped each other. I don’t know what I’d have done without them. But I know I wouldn’t have let silly arguments ruin our friendships.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t have family to help you through your hard times,” I said. “I guess I’m lucky in some ways.”
Henry grunted. “You’re lucky in lots of ways. And friends can be like family. There’re all different kinds of families.” Henry pointed at Connor. “Friends can be like family.”
I smiled at Henry. Then I got up and made my way to the petting zoo. I sat down next to Connor and Spaghetti on the ground. Connor didn’t look at me as he kept rubbing his fur. He played music on his phone for Spaghetti.
“You really think he likes Llama Parade?” I asked Connor.
“It’s only his favorite band. Of course.”
“Of course. They’re one of my favorite bands, too.”
“He seems awfully tired still,” Connor said.
“Yeah.” I slipped my foot out of my flip-flop and ran it along Spaghetti’s soft fur. “He never has any energy anymore.”
“He’s skinny. I can feel his ribs poking through.”
“He doesn’t eat much. He won’t even eat special treats like broccoli or potatoes.”
“I’m worried about him.”
I nodded. “I am, too.”
A goat ran across the petting zoo and head-butted another goat. The unsuspecting goat fell over on his side, completely stiff, his legs jutting out all funny. Connor and I giggled.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve been a huge jerk. And the worst part is, I keep being a huge jerk.”
Connor shrugged. “Why do you keep being a jerk?”
I shook my head. “I wish we could go back to the way things were.”
“I wish that, too, Aven. But we can’t control everything.” He slowly ran his fingers through Spaghetti’s fur, and I saw how calm Connor was. He wasn’t ticcing at all.
“Spaghetti would have made a good therapy llama,” I said.
Connor smiled. “Maybe he could still be one.”
How could Spaghetti be a therapy llama when he couldn’t eat? Could barely walk? I’d hardly seen him on his feet lately.
“I think it’s too late for him,” I said.
28
When it’s almost over
Promise me you’ll be there.
When it’s almost over
Promise me you’ll care.
— Llama Parade
I FOUND THE COURAGE TO SPEAK to Lando the following week at school. “Hi.”
He looked around. “You talking to me?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Oh,” he said. “Because I thought it was best if I left you alone. So I’m going to do that now.”
My heart felt like a stake was in it as I watched Lando walk away. I wanted him to leave me alone. But I also completely and totally didn’t want him to leave me alone. My brain had never felt so dysfunctional, and normally it was pretty high functioning.
I trudged to the cafeteria and sat down with Zion at our usual table. “Why you being so mean to my brother, huh?” he said the moment my butt touched the seat.
I slumped in my chair. I didn’t want to eat anything. “Why are you asking me that?”
“Because he said that you totally dissed him.”
“He told you that?”
“Yeah.” Zion crossed his arms. I found his little defensive act on behalf of Lando really sweet.
“I don’t understand you guys,” I said. “One minute you’re defending each other and the next you’re about to beat each other up. Then you’re defending each other again.”
“We’re brothers.”
“Well, I guess I don’t get brothers. And I definitely don’t get why Lando cares about how I treat him.” I glanced over at Lando’s table. “Look at all the friends he has.”
“So you can’t be his friend?”
“Of course I can be his friend.”
“Then what’s the big deal?”
“Maybe I don’t want to be his friend!”
“Why? Do you hate him?”
I let my head fall onto the lunch table with a satisfying thwap. “I don’t hate him at all,” I mumbled. “I completely the opposite of hate him.”
I finally looked up at Zion, my forehead throbbing. He had his mouth open in a small circle the size of a Cheerio.
“Please don’t tell anybody,” I said. “Especially not him.”
“He thinks you don’t like him at all.”
“Good,” I said. “It’s better that way.”
“I don’t think so. I think you’re torturing yourself for no reason. It’s better to be friends than nothing at all.”
I squinted at him. “Have you called Trilby since homecoming?”
Zion’s eyes shot down to his sandwich. “No.”
“Why not
? Didn’t you guys have a nice time together?”
“I guess.”
“Why don’t you call her? I think she likes you.”
Zion shook his head. “There’s no way she could like me.”
“Then why did she agree to go to homecoming with you?”
“You heard her. Because she always thought she’d never get to go to dances, being a homeschooler and all.”
“So . . . you think she was using you? You’re starting to sound like my grandma.”
“Josephine?”
“Yeah. You sound like an old lady.”
“No. I sound like you, which means you’re the one who sounds like an old lady.”
I saw Henry sitting in a rocking chair as I walked through Stagecoach Pass after school that day. I walked up the steps. “Hey, Henry.”
He sat there staring, his mouth hung open, completely still. “Henry?”
He didn’t move. I nudged him with my foot. “Henry?”
He slowly turned his head to me. “Hm?”
“Are you okay?” I sat down in a rocking chair next to him.
“Hm?” he said again then stared off at nothing.
“Henry?” I said more sharply this time.
He looked at me again. “Oh, hi,” he said slowly.
“Hi. Do you know who I am?”
“Aven Cavanaugh.”
“No, I’m Aven Green. I’m going to go get my dad.”
As I walked down the steps, I heard Henry say, “But you don’t have a dad.”
Dad and I helped Henry upstairs to his apartment. Henry was so confused, I wasn’t sure he knew who Dad was.
While Dad helped Henry get into bed, I walked around the tiny apartment, like something in there might offer a clue about Henry’s past. But it was bare—no pictures, no decorations, no personal touches. Just the minimum amount of furniture a person needed to live. There should have been photographs of friends and family and souvenirs he’d collected on vacations and gifts he’d been given by people who loved him. The thought of him growing up in the orphanages made my chest hurt. And the thought of him living here in this sparse apartment all these years broke my heart.
Henry didn’t even have a TV. There was only a small shelf of books. I scanned over the titles, but they were mostly old touristy type books about Arizona. I imagined some of them had come from the souvenir shop who knows how long ago. It was like a hotel room Henry had only planned on staying in a short time.
Momentous Events in the Life of a Cactus Page 14
