Part 28 (1/2)

”It's huge for both of us. We have to figure things out,” Bob says.

”I have no idea where to begin- or if we even can at this point.”

Those words land hard, a direct hit. My heart stings. It's one thing to be rejected when he'd never even met me, another entirely to be rejected all over again. I drop my head down and study my cup of coffee, cold, forgotten. More weight settles on top of my already- heavy chest.

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sixteenthings.indd 188 9/9/13 2:21 PM.

1 6 t h i n g s i t h o u g h t w e r e t r u e ”Yes.” I force myself to sound harsh and uncaring. I lift my chin, narrow my eyes, as if this whole thing isn't ripping my insides apart.

”Maybe I don't want anything to do with you either.”

Bob clears his throat and coughs. ”That's not what I meant.”

”Morgan!” Amy says.

Tears squeeze out of the corner of my eyes, and embarra.s.sed, I wipe them away. ”I don't know what to do- or what to say.”

I will myself to stay strong. I want to keep the hurt from my face.

From my voice. From my heart. I may think I'm brave, but deep down, I'm afraid he'll still leave me. Now that he knows about me.

”This is hard for me too,” he says.

”Congratulations,” I blurt out, and then my cheeks burn at my rudeness. ”Sorry,” I add softly, without looking up.

Amy makes a funny high- pitched noise and clamps her hand over her mouth. I feel Adam's eyes on me but don't look at him.

”It's okay. But this is difficult. You live in Seattle,” Bob says.

It's not a question, but I correct him. ”No. Tadita. You should know the geography. After all, you lived there too, long enough to get my mother pregnant.” I drop my eyes so I don't have to look at him. I hate that I sound so bitter, so defiant. But I can't help it.

I'm so afraid- and emotionally naked. I want to cover myself up.

”Morgan,” Amy says. ”You're being mean. All you ever wanted was a dad.”

My cheeks fire up and I glance over at her. ”Amy, I never said that.”

I frown. I don't want Bob to know the truth. I want a dad. So. Much.

”You didn't have to,” Amy says. Her face crumples up and she hic- cups as she starts to cry, but she manages to do it at a low volume.

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sixteenthings.indd 189 9/9/13 2:21 PM.

J a n e t G u r t l e r ”Oh, sweetie,” Camille says to Amy and reaches across the table to pat her arm.

I push away from the table. There's sweat on my top lip and behind my knees.

”Sit down,” Bob says in a voice that's used to being obeyed.

Adam stands too and reaches for my hand. His fingers press against mine and it's rea.s.suring. It grounds me.

”Please?” Bob says in a softer voice. ”I'm trying to figure out the right things to say. I have absolutely no idea what that is.”

”Me neither,” I whisper.

I look at Adam. I sense that no matter what I decide to do, he'll stand by me. ”It's your call,” he whispers. I wish he would tell me.

But this is my life. My decision. There's no way to hide from this.

I squeeze Adam's hand and sit. He slowly sits beside me. Amy glances up, no longer making noise but still sniffling and wiping at her eyes.

Everyone stares at me. I feel more exposed than I did the first day of school after the video went viral.

”Why did you come?” Bob finally says as if he's choosing his words carefully. He nods his head toward Adam and Amy. ”You brought friends and drove all the way to Canada to see me. Why?”

I stare at him and blink, trying to remember the feelings that brought me here. ”I just found out who you are,” I remind him.

”She just told me,” I whisper. ”And I thought you were aware of me.

If I'd known earlier who you are...the truth...well, I would have come sooner.”

”Okay.” He picks up his tea. ”But why like this?” He takes a 190.

sixteenthings.indd 190 9/9/13 2:21 PM.

1 6 t h i n g s i t h o u g h t w e r e t r u e tiny sip, puts his cup down. ”You could have called.” He has a wary expression.

I almost smile and put my hand over my mouth. I can't tell him what I wanted. Him. I wonder if he thinks I'm a parasite, there to suck things from him. Like, like money. I glance at Adam. He's watching Bob, his eyes narrowed, his hand in a ball at his side.

”What are you implying? She wants a father!” Amy squeals.

Camille puts a finger to her lips and makes soft shus.h.i.+ng noises at her.

My stomach turns, and I'm glad I haven't had anything to eat. ”I wanted to see you,” I say. ”In person. But things haven't turned out the way I planned,” I admit.

”And what did you plan?” Bob's voice is slightly challenging.

Camille puts a hand on his arm. Amy covers her mouth again and makes a squealing sound. Adam makes a sound in his throat, and anger shoots from his eyes toward Bob. It's tangible across the table.

”None of this is her fault,” Camille says. ”Her mother lied to her as much as she did to you.”

My mom's image seems to hover over the table like a ghostly apparition. For a moment, I hate her. I really and truly hate her- for lying to me. And for a moment, I hate him too- for getting her pregnant in the first place. But most of all, I hate me- for being a person who would let this go on as long as it did. I should have fought harder for the truth from my mom. I should have found out the truth long ago.

”This kind of brings up a new argument for abortion,” I say, and it's awful and tears leak out again, and I drop my head, ashamed.

191.