Sam buttons my pants for me, smiling like an idiot.
"You're smiling like a dork," I muse. His eyes meet mine and his grin widens as his fingers hook onto the belt loops of my jeans. He dips his head down, our lips meeting.
He's holding me as close as he can, running his thumb over the small strip of exposed skin between my top and shorts.
"Your skin is so soft," he whispers before his tongue slides over the seem of my bottom lip. I part my lips and our tongues fight for dominance until a knock sounds at my door, interrupting us.
We're still holding each other when I call, "Yeah?"
"I started the truck, let's go, trolls!" Dad calls back from behind my door.
I cup my boyfriend's face, letting my thumb trace the familiar prickling of his stubble. Our lips meet one last time before I reluctantly pull away. I know Sam won't pull away first, it's been a problem for years. Not that I mind it though.
When I spin on my heels for the door, he pulls me back to him by my wrist.
"Come on, baby, just one more," he frowns.
Grinning, I shake my head at him, pulling my arm away and leaving the room before he can make me change my mind.
Today is the day I meet my mom, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't practically shitty my pants over the whole thing.
Fifteen-year-old me would be furious. In a way, eighteen-year-old me is but, I dunno. This is kind of cool. It's like Christmas.
Except it isn't winter and I'm getting a parent, not a present.
We're all in the car when dad asks, "Are you excited?"
"Should I be?" I roll my shoulders back. "'Cause I think I'm more scared than I am excited."
It's true. If we don't hurry this up, I might puke in dad's truck.
That would be quite a way to say hello after not seeing each other for several months, wouldn't it?
"Me too," Sam pipes up, "and it's not even about me."
"Exactly," my dad says. "Stop making everything about you."
Sam frowns from the back seat. "How'm I-"
Dad cuts him off by turning the radio up until the sound of some random local band echoes through the vehicle.
I laugh loudly-- not that it could be heard over the music. Reaching my hand behind me, I feel for Sam's. Our fingers lace together as I roll down my window and the wind blows at my hair.
This was nice. And no amount of fear about meeting my mother could make me think otherwise.
❛❜
We have to pull over almost three times because I'm so sick to my stomach on our way to bio mommy's place.
I wholeheartedly believed I was doing alright but when dad turned down the music and he and Sam stopped bickering, the anxiety finally set in.
It was like fire to my mood, burning every good feeling to a crisp until the only traces left behind were the piles and piles of ash.
Or in this case, the little puddle of puke on the side of the road.
How was I supposed to know that I was going to let my insides find their escape via my mouth?
Sam holds my hair back as his thumb rubs slow circles against the exposed skin between my shirt and bottoms. He doesn't even so much as grimace in disgust, he simply comforts me.
"You know," I cough, hands on my knees as I pant, at a loss for breath. "This is how it's gonna be when we have kids. I know for a fact I'd be the kind of pregnant lady that couldn't go twenty minutes in a car without-"
Yum. More vomit.
Coughing again, I finish my sentence. "-puking."
He pulls the hair tie from my wrists and ties up my hair, laughing at my state. Spinning me around to face him, he dabs at my lips with a Subway napkin my dad had in the truck.
"When we have kids, huh?" he muses, grinning like the absolute moron he is.
I scoff, "Okay, well, since you're the one with a uterus, then when you have kids."
He presses a kiss to my lips and I lightly pull away.
"No, stop, I have puke lips." Despite my protest, he leans back down to kiss me, pulling away with the same dumb smile as before on his face.
"It's okay. I love you and your puke lips."
I gag in disgust, shoving him again, "You're nasty. You're gonna smell like my breakfast."
He smirks as he helps me back into the truck. Why the fuck is this car so far off the ground? He lowers his lips to my ear as he buckles me up.
"I was your breakfast," he whispers huskily, slyly biting at my earlobe. Snapping my neck in his direction, I shove him and close the door.
ABORT MISSION. I REPEAT, ABORT MISSION.
NO, SEE, GRACE? THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN WE BRING UP CHILDREN. IT LEADS TO SHIT LIKE THIS.
This is why nobody likes children. Because even when they don't exist, they fuck shit up.
I now have to leave the country. There's nothing left for me here except for embarrassment and a dick I no longer want or love.
"What'd he say?" Dad asks, bringing me back to reality.
"Nothing. I'm just thinking about how I'm going to brutally murder him."
"You and me both."
❛❜
Sam raises his fist to the door as I stand beside him, holding his arm to my chest as I shake like a fallen leaf. When his fist drops at his side, he wraps his arms around my waist and I do the same, kissing his shirt-clad chest.
"It's okay, Gracie. She'll love you," my dad assures me.
"Yeah, what he said." Sam nods in agreement, rubbing my back. I smile up at him, my eyes scanning his familiar features.
I wonder what our kids would look like if we did have any together. I hope they have his eyes. They're so pretty. Hell, even I want his eyes.
"Nobody asked you, Samuel," dad rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.
Pressing my face into my boyfriend's chest, I sniffle, clutching onto the cotton material of the shirt.
The door opens in almost slow motion as my breath hitches, my heart beating as an older version of myself opens the door, her blue, freckled eyes sparkling as they meet mine.
"I think I'm gonna puke again," I mumble, pressing my face further into Sam's chest, my eyes watering.
I can't do this. I can't do this.
"You too?" the woman says. I peek up to see she's holding a blonde toddler to her hip. Tell me that thing isn't related to me. I have enough siblings. "I threw up almost twice in the span of ten minutes when your dad called.
I hold onto Sam tighter, almost like a child scared to leave their mother's side on the first day of school.
Mommy Sam has a nice ring to it.
"I'm Sam," he extends his hand, his other still rubbing at my back, holding me just as close as me him. "The boyfriend."
He looks down to meet my teary eyes, an evil glint in his. "I am the boyfriend, right?"
"Not if you keep this shit up, you're not."
Sam and my... mom snort. The kind-eyed woman walks past the door, holding it open as we all move inside.
She takes Sam's hand, shaking it. "I'm Calista."
I'm still latched onto Sam for dear life and we're more so waddling than we are walking.
"You wanna let go now, Gracie?"
"If you want," I mumble, scared to let go.
Calm down, it'll be okay.
Cautiously pulling his arms away, he kisses my forehead and lets his hand drop down to meet mine. Our fingers lace together as we make our way toward the kitchen where low music is playing.
"That's a child," I blurt, pointing to the toddler in her arms. She laughs, nodding and brushing hair out of the child's face.
"Yeah, she is what one could call a child," chuckling, she points for me to sit down on one of the chairs. I hesitantly let go of my boyfriend's hand and take a seat.
Calista smiles at me as she moves to place the child in my lap. "This is Evie, your... sister."
My first thought is automatically, I already have a bitch sister, I don't need another. Then, how old is this woman? And finally, she kept her but not me?
I blink back tears, wrapping my hands around the little girl's waist. Standing her up on my lap, I smile at her, making a face.
She giggles, holding my face between her tiny hands.
"Mama."
I snort, "Wrong lady, little lady."
Giggling again, she presses her little lips to my nose. Something about it makes chills run over my body, like it knows something I don't. The feeling is all-consuming as I gaze into Evie's eyes, and it's clear as day to me that something about her is going to stay with me forever.
I hug her close, rubbing her back.
Suddenly, she burps unbelievably loudly for a child her size, surprising all of us. We all break out laughing, smiling at the little girl. She giggles along with us, her gaze still fixated on me
I love her.
As I sit Evie down in my lap, unwilling to return her back to her mother, her mom sits across from me.
And here we go.
My eyes meet hers and I notice the way her jaw clenches and unclenches as she fidgets with the hem of her shirt.
It's unbelievable how much I look like her. And how much Evie looks like the both of us. We've all got the same blue-green freckled eyes, straight nose, and perky blush-colored lips.
I figure that I get my freckles and dimples from my father, seeing as Calista doesn't have either. Evie, though, Evie has the ghost of a dimple on her right cheek.
Just looking at her, I know she's going to grow up to be gorgeous. And if this is my last time seeing her, I'm glad to say that I recognized that.
I could imagine her in high school. Long, wavy blonde hair, and the sparkling eyes of a little girl that could say she knew what self-love was by the time she could speak. I wonder if she'd grow up with her insecurities fueled by her mother, unsure of herself and afraid to embrace her imperfections.
"Do you... nevermind." I clear my throat, sweeping the loose curls away from Evie's face.
"Sweety," she starts, leaning forward. "I want you to trust me with whatever question you have, no matter how bizarre or unimportant it may be. You'll ask your questions and I'll ask mine."
I'm not sure I could. Every question I have is about myself. Why did I get sick? Did my anxiety have anything to do with it? Does my anxiety come from you or my dad? Did you ever have an ED?
Everything I was curious about was about her mental health and mine. How it could be connected, how I could have inherited my illness.
"It's just... I struggle a bit with anxiety, and I guess I was curious about that." It isn't a lie, it's just not the whole truth. It won't kill her if she doesn't know the entirety of the truth.
She smiles softly. "I'd say that I struggled with it a little too, but that would be a lie."
I furrow my eyebrows at her. So is it just something that I... acquired?
"See, shortly after I had your brother," my what? "I got pregnant with you. And uh... I couldn't- I didn't know how I was going to take care of two small kids when I was hardly sixteen. And I think that after I had you, the anxiety and depression really kicked in. Like, what the hell was I going to do with my life? I felt like I'd set myself up for failure just because I was a horny teenager.
"I was eighteen with a three and almost two-year-old, and I didn't have any support, either. My parents disowned me, I'd never had friends. My entire life was in shambles and all I had was access to random drugs and medications that could 'take away' what I was feeling.
"So what did I do? I went to parties and tried every drug I could get my hands on, stole meds from bathrooms or kitchens at those parties, and came home to you guys wasted and high off my ass. This went on for about a year before Loanna found out."
"How did you know her?" I wonder, not minding the fact that she's telling me a lot more than what I asked. She could tell me the moat insignificant things about her life I wouldn't care. I just want to be able to say I know something about her.
"Well, I met her at a party. Both her and your dad," she points at him. "Anyway, uh... she arrived at my apartment after a party she also happened to be at to make sure I got home alright. My door was unlocked, I imagine because I'd passed out as soon as I got home. She found your brother crying next to me and shaking my unconscious body, and you whining on the sofa.
"She called the cops and I got sent to rehab while she looked after you and your brother. And when I got back, I went to get you guys. But then there was shit with court and they agreed to let me keep one of you. And I knew just by the way that Loey looked at you, that she was completely in love with you. She wanted another kid after Rachel, but she was having trouble so I offered her and your dad custody."
"I wish you kept me," I whisper. She frowns, sighing.
"I wish I kept you too, bug." she reaches forward to caress my face, and weirdly enough, it does feel familiar.
"Why didn't you ever visit?" I croak. She cranes her neck to look at dad, almost glaring as she replies, "They wanted a closed adoption."
I nod slowly, looking down at Evie as she plays with the hand I'm using to hold her to me, not caring to look at dad.
To be fair, I would have done the same thing if I were in their position. I'd want my kid to have a better life. And knowing I couldn't give them that or see them would ruin me, but I'd know that would be for the best. In addition to that, my parents always said they'd known I was a curious little thing since they "had" me.
Maybe they thought it would be better if it was a closed adoption so I wouldn't end up wanting to be with her, so there wouldn't be any drama or a custody battle.
What I don't get is why they never told me I was adopted. They didn't need to tell me who my mom was or take me to meet her. But they could have at least told me something.
"What about my brother? Where is he? How old is he?"
She smiles proudly at the mention of him, I wish I had a mom that looked at me like that.
"Abel. His name's Abel. He's nineteen, twenty in a few weeks. He uh... he's studying to get into Juilliard now that he's done with his gap year. You know, he was looking for you when he was still in high school."
My eyes widen as Sam moves behind my chair and holds onto my shoulders. "Really?"
"Yeah, really. He went on a road trip with his friends to Texas looking for you. Even though he didn't have many memories of you, he said he loved you all the time. I'd show him pictures of you two when you were little and he would gush over how pretty you were."
My eyes and nose sting as I recall some of the times Spencer would hug me and we would annoy each other by showering the other with kisses out of nowhere.
I hate that I got that and Abel didn't. I hate that he missed me and I didn't even know he existed.
How many times did he go to bed wishing I was there for him to kiss goodnight after I left Spencer's room and kissed him goodnight?
A sob escapes my throat as I swallow hard. Calista frowns, standing to wrap her arms around me. Sam rubs gently at my shoulders, leaning down to kiss my head before stepping back.
"What the fuck is this?" I sob, covering my eyes. "Why is my life..."
"I'm so sorry," she whispers.
"No, you don't have to be sorry, I just..." I croak. "I have a brother, I have a sister, I have a mom, a dad. But now I have two of all of that? What is this? Why is this? My life has just been all over the place for years, and I... now I have one more thing that I need to fix or deal with added to my list."
"Look at me, bug." she grabs my face, angling it so our eyes are level. "I know what you mean. But this... life you have? You have it for a reason, babygirl. And people like us? People like us that struggle? We're meant for great things. You just have to wait for those great things to find you."
I let myself drown in her words for a moment. We're meant for great things. I'm meant for great things. But what are those great things?
"Did you get your great things?"
She smiles sadly, brushing a tear away from my face with her thumb, "I'm looking at my great thing, babe."
I wrap my arms around her, pulling her to me, breathing in her scent. She just smells motherly, you know? Like that sweet, homely smell that wafts past your nose when you get back from a long day at school. Like that smell that my mom used to give off. That comfort.
The front door creaks open and we all turn to look at the threshold of the kitchen as a young brunette man walks in, grocery bags in his hands.
His eyes scan over everyone in front of him, his thick eyebrows furrowing. "Hey? What's goin' on in here?"
"Squishy!" a small voice exclaims, muffled from between Calista and me. Calista pulls away, chuckling and pressing a kiss to Evie's head before looking back up at me to brush more tears away.
Evie jumps off of my lap, running for the man before being scooped up by him. He laughs, showering her face with kisses. She giggles, holding his face in her tiny hands.
"Bowl's home, Bowl's home!"
Calista laughs when she notices the way my face contorts with confusion as I look up at Sam who simply shrugs, playing with the ends of my hair.
"She doesn't know how to say his name right, we've been trying to teach her but she's stuck with it." she turns to look at Evie, smiling. "Not bowl, buggy, it's Abel."
Well, shit.