“What?!” I spluttered. “But- but I didn’t put my name forward - how could he -”
“Sit down, Finley,” Cassia said patiently. “I realise that you didn’t put your name forward, but Aisling and I assumed you would have, so we did it for you. Things do have deadlines, you know.”
“But I don’t want-”
“Finley, until you are eighteen, I am making your decisions. And you don’t have to live with him. But I do want you to meet him.”
I took a second to clear my head and sort out my thoughts. “Do I have a choice?” I asked after a moment.
“Not about meeting him. But he won’t adopt you if you still don’t want him to.”
I sighed. “Who is this guy?” I asked, leaning my head on my hand.
“You didn’t read the file?” Cassia asked with her eyebrows raised.
I shrugged. She tutted, but smiled.
“His name is Alex Gaskarth. He’s twenty-five, lives in Baltimore.”
“Single?”
“Yes. Not that you’d be making a move on him.”
I chuckled. “No, I was just wondering. So, does he live alone then?”
Cassia nodded. “He used to have a roommate but he moved out a few months ago.” She looked at me. “There’s more in the file - read it tonight. I’ll be calling about the details later, but Alex is flying in tomorrow night. You’ll meet him on Wednesday.”
“Okay” I muttered, still trying to make sense of this. “Well, is that all?”
“Basically,” Cassia shrugged, “I mean originally there were some more things that I wanted to run through but now I think I’ll explain everything if you decide you want to be adopted. Just worry about meeting him for now.”
“Have you met him?”
“I talked over the phone with him.” She didn’t expand. I didn’t ask.
Cassia dropped me to the home, where The Carer said nothing but to go upstairs and do my homework. Instead, I picked up the folder I’d abandoned last night and sat down Indian style on my bed, opening it in my lap.
I flicked through the pages I’d seen last night, before coming to something different. Addressed to me.
Well, kind of.
I wasn’t sure who to address this letter to, so I decided to just leave that part out. I know you’re still in school; don’t do that in your English exam.
Well, my name’s Alexander William Gaskarth, but in case you hadn’t noticed my full name is a bit of a mouthful so most people (i.e. everyone) calls me Alex.
I’m twenty-five, and I live in Baltimore which is kind of an exaggeration because I’m barely ever home so really I stay in Baltimore for about three months every year.
Usually, I’d live with one of my best friends, Rian. Unfortunately for me, he moved away recently to live closer to his girlfriend in LA. (I don’t mind much, I totally ship them.)
So that leaves me kind of lonely. Because, I like quiet time and all- but I’m a people person and I like to have some company. So my best friend (more like brother) gave me this totally wack idea of adopting someone.
I mean, I thought it was wack at first. Anyone who knows me knows how immature and irresponsible I am- the reason it took Ri so long to move out was because I can’t look after myself at all. But then I started thinking and talking and talking and thinking, and I realised that maybe this isn’t such a wack idea after all. Maybe it’s just what I need... and just what someone else needs.
That’s where you come in. I’m not sure who you are yet, but if you’re reading this , then hi. I’ll see you soon. We can talk properly then.
- Alex.
I put the folder down, and lay down on my bed. It was barely seven, but I was exhausted.
Alex. I ran the name over lips, and smiled. As much as I hated to admit it, he sounded nice. But... I couldn’t.
I sat up, and bounded downstairs. I called Jacob on the landline- we were allowed to have cell phones, but as if I could afford one.
The detention centre picked up the phone immediately, but it took them a second to retrieve my brother.
“Hey,” Jacob’s voice crackled through the receiver.
“Hey,” I replied, “How’s things?”
He ignored that. “So, the adoption thing?”
I hesitated. “I... They’re making me meet him. But I’m not leaving, I promise.”
“When are you meeting him?”
“Wednesday. If-”
“And what’s his name?”
“Alex. He’s twenty-five, from Baltimore.”
“Baltimore?”
I’d had the same reaction. Baltimore was East Coast; Summerfield was west.
Jacob sighed. “Come see me tomorrow. Or call me or something.”
“I will, I promise,” I told him sincerely.
“Good,” He said, “So how’s school?”
Our conversation carried on for a few more minutes, before The Carer came in and whisked the phone away from me.
“The bills will be through the roof with you lot,” She complained, waving me back to my bedroom so she could cook dinner in peace.
The next morning went much like Monday. I got up, picket at some breakfast, The Carer drove us to school. I went to my classes, spent lunch in the library. After school, I told Broderick that I was going to visit Jacob, and left school the back way in order to avoid seeing The Carer. I knew she’d try to stop me.
Jacob knew that I’d be dropping in after school today- he was the one who had told me to come- and so he was waiting for me. We left the building for the garden, where we sat as two solitary figures, like always.
“So, this Alex guy,” Jacob said, “What’s he like?”
“I haven’t met him yet," I reminded him, “I wouldn’t know.”
“Surely Cassia has?”
“She said she talked to him on the phone,” I shrugged.
Jacob and I didn’t look alike. While my eyes were a strange greenish greyish blueish colour, his were a chocolate brown. My hair was a mousey brown, his was almost black. He was over a foot taller than me, always had been. When we were younger he used to tease me about it. I remember being seven- he was eight- and we were marking our heights on the kitchen doorframe. We did that every year on our birthdays. Whoever own the house now has probably painted over them, but they’re still there, just covered up and forgotten about.
I looked at Jacob more closely than I had in ages. He looked tired, worn, beaten down. That was his fault.
I’d been fourteen when he was arrested. We both went to the same school then, and I heard his name being called to the office over the intercom. It wasn’t unusual, he was constantly getting in trouble back then- for being cheeky to teachers, not doing homework, ditching. Just little things. No big deal.
I wanted to ask him what it was about when we got back to the foster home, but I came home alone, with only the two or three other foster kids for company. Not Tara, Jamia and Broderick. Other kids. I don’t remember their names.
His room was empty. Stripped of his posters, his photographs, his clothes. But mostly, it was stripped of him. I thought he’d been adopted. It seemed the logical conclusion.
The police called to the house, and they questioned me. About Jacob. About drugs. I told them I didn’t know anything. It was the truth.
And didn’t understand how he could do that to me- put himself in so much danger. Didn’t he understand? He was the only one I had left.
That’s when the epiphany came; I couldn’t leave Jacob. It had killed me when he’d left. I couldn’t do the same to him.
A/N- Hope y'all liked :). Vote, fan and comment! I love hearing from you!