Paper Flowers (Pretty Plastic People) ★

008. Confrontation

008. Confrontation

At Aquino High, the truth can ruin everything.

[Allison pictured above.]

I pass the rest of the evening in my room, leaving only to get dinner because I feel like if I see Allison I'll lose all resolve. I know what I need to do in order to get what I want, but the clenching in my stomach is something I'm not accustomed to. Brynn would tell me that it's my conscience growing without my permission. I try to blame it on the questionable coleslaw I end up eating and shove the issue under the rug.

Friday morning, I wake up refreshed and with all traces of guilt gone. Even though the adoption certificate is still in my backpack, shoved inside my English folder exactly where I left it, I feel clear-headed now. Dreams of Allison reciting the valedictorian speech and one-upping me on our college selections haunt me until I know that what I'm about to do is necessary. There's nothing I can or should do to stop it.

Still, when I arrive at Aquino High and set out to find Taylor, my stomach is doing that strange twisting thing again. The longer I look for him the worse I feel, and I'm just about to consider turning around when I notice him standing in front of the school's side door, completely absorbed in his phone.

I take an enormous breath, shut my eyes for a fraction of a section, and head towards him.

"Taylor!" I call, causing him to lift his head.

Our eyes lock and he slips his phone in his pocket, a small smile crossing his features. "What's up?" he asks.

If there's one thing Taylor is good at, it's staring at me in a way that makes me squirm. He's doing it right now: his black eyes are locked on mine so that I feel sort of paralyzed, like he's reading me inside and out. I immediately forget everything I'd been planning on saying and ask bluntly instead, "Did you know you had a sister?"

His eyes narrow—clearly, I've confused him. "I don't have any siblings," he says slowly.

"Yes, you do." I pull my backpack around so that I'm balancing it on one knee and begin to rifle through it for my English folder. After a few tense moments of silence, I pull it out. "You're related to Allison."

"No, I'm not. You're insane."

He says it like he means it, but when I look up at him I notice that there's an unquestionable trace of fear on his face.

Another few seconds pass while I whip out the certificate. When I hand it to him, he skims it before lifting his head. "Who'd you get to make this?"

"What?"

When he hands it back to me and our fingers brush, I barely stop myself from jumping.

"Those are my parents' names on that certificate," he says. "Who'd you pay to make it for you? Luke Horton?"

"Excuse me?" I demand, indignant. "I did not make this. You think I'm trying to pull a prank here? I'm just as confused as you are."

"Well if you didn't make it, then how'd you get it?"

I realize now that he's not even trying to hide the fear in his voice anymore. I hate Taylor Cunningham for a lot of reasons—but something like this, something that could ruin my sister and probably even him in the process...I'm not sure that anyone deserves this.

For a second I consider backing out, pretending that I did make the certificate after all and laughing about it like it's a good joke. But I can't, because now I need to know the truth. Any chance that the last name belonged to a different family is erased now that Taylor confirmed his parents' names on the certificate. And now I need to know why.