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Kinsley’s stomach rumbled, reminding her that the miles she’d pedaled trying to lose herself in the too familiar small town, the laps she’d walked trying to work off her anger, and the tears she’d cried trying to overcome the hurt and betrayal hadn’t accomplished diddly. Four hours later, she still couldn’t face the thought of going home, she was still angry, and something deep inside still cried out in pain each time she tried to touch it. All she’d done was burn calories. Last night’s dinner and the soda she’d bought at the gas station this morning were long gone.
She stopped at the next corner, straddled her bike frame, and checked the small, zippered bag Velcroed to the handlebars. She counted out six dollars and eighty-seven cents, enough for a burger and something to drink at Sonic, enough to fuel her absence for a while longer.
Gravel crunched, and her gaze jerked to the intersection ahead. Kinsley narrowed her eyes as a Garfield patrol car crawled past her. The officer inside didn’t look at her or wave, just stared through the windshield as he drove by. That in itself was a dead giveaway that her parents... Her brain ground to a halt as she stumbled over the word. She sought to complete the thought, substituting their names for the title. The officer’s indifference was a dead giveaway that Jason and Charley... Kinsley bit her lip, unable to finish.
They...she decided. They had their hounds on her heels. Did they think she was stupid? Or did they think she might be intimidated into coming home if the troops dogged her every step? Kinsley put a foot on the pedal and shoved off with a snort. Fat chance. Oh, she’d have to go home sometime, but it would be when she felt strong enough to face the questions waiting there.
Why she hadn’t been wanted? How was she supposed to feel about this Melissa person? Why had they lied to her? She mulled that for a second and decided that an unspoken truth was as good as a lie. If I kept something like this from them, they’d ground me ‘til I was fifty. Who was she supposed to be now? Fresh tears tracked down her face. Those were important questions, right? Things that mattered?
Kinsley coasted into the Sonic parking lot, eased her bike over the curb, and leaned it against one of the picnic tables in the center courtyard before she sat on one of the benches. She stared into nothing, heedless of the tears, her hunger temporarily forgotten as she tried to work out the answers to her questions. She figured the how and why would add up to the who. A new who. Not the who she’d always been. She choked on a fresh sob. Being someone different scared her more than that stupid message.
She folded her arms on the table and laid her head on them. She wanted her mother. The fact that there were now two people in her life with that title, and that she didn’t know which one could help the most right now only made her cry harder.
“Kinsley?”
The soft word penetrated her sorrow and layered embarrassment over it. She’d wondered if this day could get worse. Now she had her answer in letters that burned red hot behind her stinging eyes. A loud, neon green yes!
Something touched her shoulder. “Kinsley?”
There wasn’t a thing she could do about the tears wetting her face, but she hoped snot wasn’t a part of the picture as well, because that would just be the sprinkles on top of the cupcake of her day.
“Here.”
He stuffed some napkins between her head and her arms. Grateful, Kinsley used them to mop her face, drew in a shuddering breath, and sat up.
“Hey, Benjamin.”
“Hey, yourself. You OK?”
Why, yes. I’m sitting here bawling in a public place because my life is so picture perfect. You? The sarcasm nearly overwhelmed her. Boys could be so dense. She bowed her head over her hands, her face curtained by her blond hair. One shoulder hitched. “I’m fine,” she whispered. Fresh water works pressed at the backs of her eyes. Please go away.
Benjamin’s failure at the art of telepathy became glaringly apparent when he slid onto the bench across from her.
She raised her head just enough to look at him from under her lashes.
“I thought we were friends,” he said.
A carhop chose that moment to walk by with a tray of food. The scent of hamburgers and just fried, hot onion rings assaulted Kinsley’s nose. A fresh rumble from her empty stomach added a layer of humiliation to her morning. She wrapped her arms around her middle. “Sorry.”
“About what, being hungry or that whopping lie you just told?”
Kinsley jerked upright at Benjamin’s words, ready to give the former object of her affection what for. The tiny smile that played around the corners of his mouth and something she saw in his eyes stopped her. “Both, I guess.”
“Well, I can fix one of those.” Benjamin leaned over and stabbed the button at the bottom of the menu board. When the tinny voice acknowledged him and asked for an order, he looked at Kinsley with raised brows.
“Cheeseburger, tots, and a cherry limeade.”
Benjamin nodded. “Two cheeseburgers, an order of tots, an order of onion rings, and two large chocolate shakes.”
“I—”
Benjamin shook his head while the person inside repeated the order. “That’s right, thanks.” He sent Kinsley a grin. “Trust me. I’ve lived with a woman my whole life. You need chocolate, lots and lots of chocolate.” His expression turned serious. “You know what else has been a part of my whole life?”
“What?”
“You. I’ve known you forever.” He motioned to his truck, which was parked in a stall right across from where she sat. She hadn’t seen it parked there. “Think about that while I grab my wallet out of the glove box. You can talk to me...about anything.”
Kinsley watched him amble to his truck. Could she? She breathed deeply and chewed on her bottom lip. He was right. She couldn’t remember a time when Benjamin hadn’t been her friend. Her heart might hope for more now... The reminder sent heat into her face, forcing her to duck her head lest he see the blush. But crushes aside, today she needed a friend. Was there any way to make him understand how betrayed she felt, how lost, without sounding like some spoiled drama queen? She wasn’t stupid. Despite the world-rocking news she’d received, Kinsley knew she’d had a good life up until this morning.
She closed her eyes and tried to put today’s events into some sort of logical order. The sound of his tennis shoes on the concrete brought her head up. He squeezed her shoulder as he rounded the table, and when he sat across from her, the despair in her heart caved to the compassion on his face.
“I’m adopted,” she blurted. Oh, that was brilliant.
Her words hung over the table unanswered as their food was delivered, and he counted out bills. Kinsley put her head in her hands and watched him through her splayed fingers.
Benjamin sorted out their food and took a deep pull on his shake. He set the cup aside and met her eyes. “I don’t know what I expected you to say, but it wasn’t that.”
His tone was even...calm, and it reassured her. She lowered her hands, sat up, and reached for her burger. “Yeah, it surprised me too.”
“You’re sure?”
She nodded.
“You never suspected?”
“Why would I?”
“Can you talk about it?”
Kinsley unwrapped her sandwich. She flattened the paper, taking time to smooth it just so, using those seconds to order her thoughts. Benjamin waited, his steady presence strong and encouraging.
“Instagram,” she started. “I got this stupid message on Instagram.” She told him everything, surprisingly calm except for an occasional hitch in her voice. He remained quiet through the telling, obviously holding his questions until he had the whole story. Once Kinsley ran out of words, they ate in silence. Kinsley, drained by the emotion of the retelling, and Benjamin, absorbing what she’d said, a deep groove between his brows.
“So...you just left?” he finally asked. “Your parents must be pretty worried.”
Kinsley looked up as a patrol car circled the drive without even the pretense of placing an order. She nodded at it. “I don’t think so. Garfield PD either grew by twelve cars last night or I’m their special project for the day.”
Benjamin’s gaze followed the car as it pulled back onto the street. “Nice.” He faced her. “Still, don’t you think you’re being just a little unfair?”
“Unfair?” Her eyes went to slits. So much for him understanding. “I couldn’t be in the same place with them,” Kinsley hissed. She swung her legs over the bench and stood. “You don’t think it was just a little unfair of them to lie to me for almost fifteen years, to hide who I am and where I came from?” She took a step towards her bike, prepared to escape for the second time that day.
“No, I think it was a lot unfair.”
His words stopped her, and she faced him with her arms crisscrossed over her body.
“I mean, yeah, they should have told you. You have a right to be angry.” He sent her a sad grin. “Furious even. Why do you think they didn’t?”
“How should I know?”
He studied her. “Can you honestly stand there and tell me they don’t love you?”
Kinsley lifted her chin. Silent, but inviting him to continue.
“Maybe they didn’t want to hurt you.” He paused and looked at the two tater tots that remained on her napkin. “You gonna eat those?”
She shook her head with a frown.
He helped himself, thoughtful while he chewed and swallowed. “So, yeah, maybe they should have told you, but it’s not like they kept it from you out of spite or anything.”
Kinsley let the words penetrate. Her parents weren’t spiteful. They loved her—she’d always known that. “OK...”
“You, on the other hand... Did you even give them a chance to explain?”
“I couldn’t stay there.”
“Why?”
She chewed the inside of her cheek. “Because they betrayed me.”
“That’s a knee-jerk answer. Go deeper.”
Kinsley took a deep breath. If Benjamin wanted her to take a shovel to that lump of pain in her middle, he was out of luck. “They let me believe a lie my whole life. I woke up one person, and I’m standing here another. Someone I don’t even know. I needed some space to think about that. What’s the big deal?”
“They hurt you.”
She smacked her forehead with her palm. “Duh!”
“And you wanted to hurt them back.”
Kinsley blinked at his quiet words. She took them in and rolled them around, not liking the sour taste they left in her mouth. She looked at her feet. “Maybe a little,” she whispered and then looked up, defiance in her stance and tone. “So what?”
“Motivation,” he repeated. “Love on their side, payback on yours.”
The quiet words crumbled Kinsley’s resolve. Fresh tears filled her eyes, and her shoulders sagged. He stepped around the table, draped an arm around her shoulders, and gave her a squeeze. The comfort he offered broke the dam around her emotions. Kinsley leaned her head on his shoulder and wept. “I have so many questions, and I don’t know what to do.” She rubbed at her face. “How did things get so messed up?”
“Let’s load your bike in the truck, and I’ll take you home. I’m pretty sure that’s where you’re going to find your answers.”
She nodded and allowed him to lead her to the passenger side of his truck. While she settled into the seat, Benjamin wrestled her bike into the bed of his truck. He climbed in beside her and held out his hand.
Kinsley frowned at him.
“Can I pray with you?”
“Sure.” She entwined her fingers in his and ducked her head. In all the dreams she’d had of holding Benjamin’s hand, none of them had involved a situation quite like this one.
Benjamin bowed his head, silent for a moment as if gathering his thoughts. “Jesus, my dad preached a sermon a few weeks ago that said part of the reason You came to live with us on earth was so that You could experience what we experience. The good things along with the bad things. I can’t think of a good example for Kinsley and the way her life has been turned upside down this morning, but I know You can help her find her footing. Give her and her parents the wisdom they need to face all of today’s questions and answers.”
He squeezed her hand and let it go, reaching for the ignition. “I know you’ve had a tough morning, but I have something I want you to think about.”
“What’s that?”
“I have a friend at school who’s adopted. Anytime someone asks him what that’s like, he always says the same thing. His parents love him because they want to not because they have to. I think that’s a pretty smart way to look at it.”