by Judy Corry
"Exactly." It was like Ava could see into my thoughts somehow because I'd thought those very same things so many times before.
She sat up again so she could see my face better. "I've always been a little frustrated with my mom for a similar reason. I know she's the one who had to do the hard work of raising Elyse and me all by herself—but if she'd just tell us who he is…" Ava shook her head and looked down at her hands that she was wringing in her lap. "If she’d have told him about us, then at least he could’ve had the choice to be a part of our lives or not."
"He doesn't know about you?"
"No." Ava wiped at the moisture pooling at the corners of her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice wobbled. "She said she never told him about us because it would only bring more drama into our lives and we were better off without him."
"Was he, like, a criminal or something?" I asked, curious about what kind of a guy had given her half of her DNA. "Part of the mafia?"
"I don't think so." She shrugged. "I snuck into my mom's file cabinet when I was younger to see if I could find his name on my birth certificate, but the place for the father's name was left blank. So not even the government knows who our father is."
"That's kind of crazy."
"I know." She picked up her plate of food from the patio table and brought it onto her lap. Poking a Dutch-oven potato with her fork, she said, "I get not letting a guy into your life because he's dangerous or something. Like, if he had raped her or abused her, then he obviously shouldn't be in the picture. But she never made it sound like anything like that happened. She just says she made a huge mistake and then ends the conversation."
I furrowed my brow, trying to figure out why her mom didn't just tell her. Even if she didn't want the guy in her girls’ lives, she could at least tell them who their biological father was. At least give them some details.
After chewing her bite of food, Ava said, "I don't know. Part of me just wishes she'd told me he died in a car accident or something. Because then I could stop looking at every tall, middle-aged guy with light brown hair and wonder if he was my dad.”
"Have you ever suspected anyone?"
"In second grade I thought for a little while that my friend Sarah's dad could possibly be my dad too, since I thought I looked kind of like him. He'd told me that he and my mom had known each other before I was born—they worked at the same store the summer my mom would have gotten pregnant with Elyse and me. But when I asked my mom if she'd ever had a crush on him, she just laughed and said he'd tried asking her out a couple of times, but she always said no because working with someone you date would be so awkward if you broke up. So I figured he probably wasn't my dad after all. Plus, I later found out that my friend and all of her siblings got some sort of strong genetic traits from him that Elyse and I would have gotten if we'd been his, and so I dropped him from my list of possible dads."
"Do you still have a list of possible dads going?" I asked.
"Not anymore."
I picked up my plate to finish my steak and potatoes that probably could use another trip inside the microwave. "I used to do something similar."
She narrowed her eyes. "You had a list of possible dads?"
"Not, like, officially," I said. "But yeah, I was the little orphan kid who went up to every gringo with blue eyes that I met and asked him if he was my daddy."
"Oh, that's so sad," Ava said. But then a slight smile lifted her cheeks and she said, "I bet that made for some awkward encounters. I wonder how many guys you met were worried you might actually be theirs. Or how many wives never trusted their husbands to go out for a guys’ weekend again after having a cute little orphan ask them if they were theirs."
I smiled, liking that she was able to bring some humor back into the conversation. "I only remember a handful of wives smacking their husbands after seeing the sense of dread come over them as they tried to figure out if I could actually be theirs."
"Were there a lot of orphans with gringo fathers running around then?"
"So many that they actually had to outlaw adoptions from other countries because it was such a huge problem back in the day."
"Really?" Ava's eyes went wide.
"Yes. The reason my family owns so many orphanages down there is because there are, like, five hundred thousand kids with stories like mine. I was just one of the lucky ones."
26
Ava
"Curfew is at ten, right?" Carter asked me while he loaded our dishes into one of the stainless-steel dishwashers they had in their massive kitchen.
"Yeah," I said. "Ten o'clock is when all the lights are supposed to go out."
Was he hinting that he might want to hang out a little longer? Because even though our dinner conversation hadn't exactly made for the most cheerful meal I'd ever had, I felt somehow closer to him because of it. And if he was offering me a chance to spend more time with him, I was so on board with it.
I knew it must have been hard to tell me about his past, since Carter didn't exactly strike me as the type of guy who was an open book or wore his heart on his sleeve. But I appreciated him telling me because it was nice to know more of why he was the way he was.
It solved the little mystery of why he'd reacted so strongly when he thought I was throwing away my food at the barbecue. Having lived with such hunger would probably make me a little territorial over food as well.
It also gave me some insight into why he was so meticulous with his planner. Having had so much instability in his early life, knowing what to expect during his day or week probably made him feel more secure and in control of what was going on in his life.
"Well," Carter said as he closed the dishwasher door and dried his hands with a towel. "If you're not in too big of a hurry to get back to the school, I was thinking it might be fun to watch a movie or something to end the evening on a lighter note."
"You sure you don't want me to tell you about all the phone calls Elyse and I eavesdropped on to try to figure out who our dad might be?" I asked. "Or list all the daddy-daughter activities I stayed home from because my mom just didn't look that great in a suit?" I shot him a challenging look. "Because I know how competitive you are about sob stories, I think I might need to tell you a few more of mine so you can know you're not the only kid who had it rough growing up."
"As fun as that sounds…" Carter chuckled, and I liked the way his eyes lit up when he laughed. I liked the dark and brooding vibe he usually put out, but there was just something about the lighter, more carefree version of him that I was addicted to. "I kind of think I might be more in the mood for a movie."
"Okay, fine." I made a show of looking disappointed that he hadn't taken me up on my offer. "But I get to pick the movie, okay?"
"As long as it isn't something sad like The Fault in Our Stars or A Walk to Remember, then I guess I'll let you pick this time."
"How did you know those were the exact movies I was thinking of?"
"I'm just good at reading people."
Carter led me back upstairs to the theater room Cambrielle had shown me during her house tour, and we picked Megamind since we wanted a good laugh. While Carter got it ready to go, I excused myself to use the bathroom.
In the guest bathroom that was across from Carter's bedroom, I searched the cupboards for some mouthwash—you know, because I was dedicated to oral hygiene, not because I was hoping I might have an excuse to kiss Carter.
Okay, so maybe I wanted to be ready just in case.
And luck must be on my side because I found a small bottle of mouthwash in the cupboard beneath the sink. I gave myself a nice swish and then hurried back to the theater room.
When I made it back, the movie was paused on the opening scene. Carter was sitting on one end of a long couch, his seat in the reclined position all ready to watch the show.
There were several other couches in the room that I could choose from if I wanted to really spread out, but since I wasn't a complete idiot, I sat on the other end of Carter's couch.
>
I was just trying to get comfortable when Carter looked over at me and asked, "You're going to sit all the way over there?"
"It seemed like a good-enough spot," I said with a shrug, pretending like I wanted to sit with a full cushion between us. "Why?"
If you asked me to scoot closer, I wouldn't say no.
He pursed his lips together thoughtfully. "I guess I was just thinking that there might be a better option, that's all." He shrugged.
Deciding to play dumb for a second, I pointed to the couch behind us. "Is the view better from there?"
He looked over his shoulder at the leather couch.
"That’s a pretty comfortable spot," he said. "But that's not the seat I was thinking of."
"No?" I made a show of looking around and then pointed to the recliner on the other side of him. "Is that the best spot?"
He shook his head. "No."
"Hmmm…" I tapped my chin as if I was really thinking hard about the best place to sit among the many options. "I bet you probably think the floor in front of the couches is actually the best place to watch a movie from. Probably reminds you of your days at the orphanage when you sat on the dirt floors and made your own movies in your head while Señorita Celeste read books to you."
Carter's jaw dropped, and his blue eyes went so wide I worried my attempt at a joke may have just backfired big time.
"Did you really just go there?" he asked, like he couldn't believe he'd heard me right.
"Umm…yes?" I said, the muscles in my neck tightening.
And for a split second, I worried he may cancel our movie night and call a butler or security to come up here and haul my sassy butt out the door.
But then his lips quirked up at the corners and he let out the most boisterous laugh I'd heard from him so far. "Oh Ava," he said, shaking his head as his shoulders shook with laughter. "I think you may be the first person I've ever met who makes fun of orphans."
I scrunched up my nose. "Too far?"
"It's surprisingly refreshing, actually." He shook his head again, the look in his eyes both amused and disbelieving at the same time. "It's kind of nice being able to joke around with you instead of having you be so serious about it. But…" He held up a finger as if about to set me straight. "If you're going to make fun of my orphan status, then you need to at least get your facts right. Señorita Celeste read to me at the childcare. Señorita Silvia was the one who read to us at the orphanage."
"My bad." I held up my hands.
He chuckled again, and I had the feeling that I may never get tired of hearing that sound from him. It was so lighthearted and knowing that I was responsible for his laughter made me giddy.
It made me want to find ways to make him laugh more often.
He drew in a deep breath, signaling that he was getting back to the topic at hand. "Since you’re obviously having a difficult time deciphering which seat I think you should take, I'll give you a little hint."
He slipped his left hand between his cushion and the one beside him to lift some sort of lever, making the seat between us recline.
"Oh," I said, pretending like the thought of sitting right next to him had never occurred to me. "So, the middle seat is actually more comfortable than the seat I'm already on?"
"It's the best seat in the whole house as far as I'm concerned." He patted the spot next to him.
But since I wasn't quite done playing games, I slid only about a foot over from where I already was. I was technically on the cushion he'd indicated, but only just barely.
I leaned back, putting my hands behind my head in a relaxed position. I let out an over-exaggerated sigh and said, "You're right. This spot is super comfy. I think I'm going to enjoy watching the movie from here very mu—"
But I didn't get to finish my sentence. Carter slipped one arm behind my back, spreading his hand against my hip, and slid me across the cushion until I was positioned right next to him.
"Sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hands," he said.
And I probably would have had a witty retort for him if I wasn't so distracted by the fact that my entire left side was lighting up like kindling about to catch fire.
He must have noticed that he'd left me speechless because a wicked grin lifted his cheeks before he said, "What do you think? Is this seat any better?"
Since I was barely thinking in one-word syllables, I just nodded my head and said, "Yeah."
Then he pulled me against him so my head rested on his chest, and as the opening scene of Megamind came on the screen all I could think of was that this was so much better.
27
Ava
When the movie ended and the credits started rolling, the last thing I wanted to do was get up from the couch where I'd been cuddled up to Carter for the past hour and a half. It was probably strange that we were two high school seniors who had chosen to watch a cartoon, but it was probably what we'd needed after the heavy conversation on the back patio at dinner.
The movie was lighthearted and fun, and I hadn't laughed so much in a long time.
Carter pressed a button on a silver remote to turn on the overhead lights at the front of the room. Then he picked up a black remote and used it to turn off the screen.
He set the remotes back down, and then he smoothed his hands up and down my arm. In a quiet voice, he said, "I should probably get you back to the school, huh?"
But after listening to his breathing and his heartbeat and basically just basking in the glory of what it was like to be near Carter Hastings for an extended period of time, leaving his side and going back to the school where I'd have to wait until who knows how long to be alone with him again was the last thing I wanted to do.
We hadn't even really done anything besides watch the movie—no kissing, no fooling around—but it was probably the most enjoyable hour and a half that I'd had in a very long time because I'd been able to be near him. And I didn't know what it was, but I just felt better when I was with Carter. He was like a calming presence to my erratic brain, and I was more peaceful and content when I was with him.
Which was crazy, because he was also the same guy who could send my heart racing into overdrive with just a flip of the switch.
I didn't really know what he thought about me or what had been going through his head during the movie—for all I knew, his attention had been on Megamind and the character’s quest to be the baddest super villain of all time and he hadn't even really noticed my presence at all. But he had to feel something, right?
And so, since I really didn't want to get up from this couch and remove myself from this wonderful bubble of happiness, I burrowed my face into Carter's chest and said, "I fell asleep. I can't go anywhere," in a muffled voice.
Carter chuckled at my lie. But playing along with me, he brushed his fingertips through the hair that had fallen across my cheek, shifted his position so he could see my face better, and whispered, "Are you a sleep talker, Ava? Did you just say something?"
"Yes," I muttered.
I could feel him watching me, and so I tried to keep my expression neutral. I breathed more rhythmically, mimicking a sleeping person because even though it was totally obvious that I was faking, I was now dedicated to the production.
"I really hate to wake you up," Carter whispered, his hot, minty breath warming my forehead. "But you've left me no choice."
Before I could brace myself, his fingers were tickling my sides. I clenched my muscles, resisting the urge to squirm under his tickling touch. But while I was able to keep from twitching for about ten seconds, I could only hold off for so long because the sides of my ribs were the most ticklish part of my body.
"Ugh," I said, squirming away from his tickling fingers and sitting up. "You're so mean. You know that?"
Carter laughed, and for a moment I thought he was going to keep the tickle torture going just for fun. But he stopped and said, "I had to be mean for your own good." He used the button on the side of the couch to move his seat back to the u
pright position. "And now that you're awake again, I think it's time for me to take you back so you aren't late for curfew. You don't want to get on the headmistress’s bad side."
"I really don't care about getting on her bad side."
"That's only because you've never seen her when she's mad. Believe me, she's not a woman you want to mess with."
I considered telling him that I'd take my chances. But since I really didn't know what would happen if I was late for curfew, I used the lever to put my seat back to the upright position as well. "Fine."
Carter held his hand out to help me up. Then he patted the pockets of his jeans as if checking for something. "I must have left my keys in my gym shorts."
We walked down the hall to his bedroom. While he went to dig his shorts from the dirty laundry basket in his closet, I took the opportunity to look around at the things Carter held special enough to display in his room. He had a few knickknacks here and there, and a framed photo of him, Mack, Hunter, and Nash wearing basketball uniforms sat on his desk. Another photo of him and his siblings standing on a yacht with the ocean in the background was beside that one.
In the corner next to the wall with all the constellations on it was a telescope, which made me think that maybe Carter was interested in astronomy.
There was a giant bookshelf along the wall beside his bed with at least a hundred books. There was everything from personal development books to the classics, to biographies, to popular fantasy novels and mysteries, and even a stack of Calvin and Hobbes comic books in one corner.
He even had a row of books in Spanish.
"You have quite the book selection," I commented when he came to stand beside me. Even though there were a few inches of space between us, the electric charge that was always humming under the surface when we were together was there again.
"What can I say? I like reading. You can live a thousand different lives without ever having to leave your room."