How was it?” Mom asked when I climbed into the car later that night.
My mind was whirling with all the things I wanted to tell her about.
“We won the Battle of the Bands!” I said. “And I danced with Sam! It was, like, the best night of my life!”
“I’m so glad! You and your band worked very hard.” Mom smiled warmly. “You deserved it, Georgia.”
Suddenly, I felt like a heel. Mom had bought me this great dress and encouraged me to perform… and I hadn’t even told her the truth about my detention. If I’d told her, she probably would’ve grounded me, and the best night of my life never would’ve happened….
I felt ill, like I’d accidentally stolen something.
Mom deserved to know the truth.
I took a deep breath. “Mom, I poured pudding on Missy Trillin’s head and I got a week of detention plus I had to talk to the school psychologist but I swear that’s it and I’ll never do anything bad again and I’m reallyreallyreallyreally sorry.”
“Oh, Georgia,” Mom said. She shook her head.
“I know.”
“I wish you had told me.”
“I know. I meant to tell you before the dance, but—”
“No, Georgia,” Mom shook her head and reached for my hand. “I wish you had told me you were having so much trouble with Missy. I could’ve helped you.”
I sighed. “I kind of think it’s solved now.”
“That’s good. And Georgia—about being adopted. I’m sorry. I should’ve told you earlier. I guess… I guess I hoped it wouldn’t matter.”
We sat there in the dark parking lot for a while. Did being adopted matter? In some ways, it did. Somewhere out in the world, I had a biological mother and father. We shared genes. That was important.
But right here, in this dark car, I had a mother who’d raised me.
We shared love. And, honestly, that’s the most important thing of all.
“I’m sorry I’ve been kind of a lousy daughter lately,” I said after a moment.
Mom turned in her seat to look me in the face. “Georgia,” she said, “I wish you hadn’t gotten into trouble at school. But you’re not a lousy daughter. You’re wonderful. And even if you were lousy—I’d still love you.” She reached out and pulled me close. She smelled of apple pie from the diner, and coffee, and a million other things that made her smell like Mom. “We’re a family, Georgia. Family is forever.”
We hugged for a long time. After a while, Mom let out a little squeak. Her body shook.
“What?” I asked, pulling away.
Mom squeaked again, and I realized she was laughing. “Pudding,” she said.
That made me chuckle too. “Yeah.”
“You really are Rafe’s sister, aren’t you?” Mom’s eyes sparkled, and I could tell that—in a weird way—she was proud of us.
Am I like Rafe? I thought about my last few weeks at HVMS. They certainly were filled with… mayhem.
“Yeah,” I said at last. “I guess I am.”
