“There you are,” Gigi says, when we walk into the kitchen. “How was your visit with your mom?” She’s working on her computer while something cooks on the stovetop.
“Fine,” I say, as my hand sneaks up to rub my cheek.
“Do you think you’ll see her again soon?”
“Um … probably not.”
“Oh. Why not?” she asks, her face falling.
I look at Brad, then back to Gigi. I don’t want to tell her what happened, but I have to tell her something.
“Wasn’t it Sherry’s idea?” Brad asks, walking over to the stove to see what’s in the pot and giving me a little more time.
“Yeah. She … she…” I don’t want to lie to Gigi about this. I’ve already got this thing—whatever it is—with Brad weighing me down. I don’t need to add more deceit on top of that. “She didn’t think the meeting was helpful,” I say with a shrug. That’s true. It just leaves out some of the unnecessary details.
“I’m sorry,” Gigi replies, closing her computer. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head. In fact, I’d like for it to never be mentioned again.
“What’s for dinner?” Brad asks, lifting the lid. He can’t possibly be hungry. We just finished our second lunch only an hour ago.
“Brunswick stew. Oh, Hailey,” Gigi says, holding out a phone to me. “Brittany called for you a little while ago. She wanted you to call her back as soon as you got home.”
“Okay, thanks.” I grab the phone and sit at the table.
Gigi starts discussing a list of landscaping chores she wants Brad to do while I dial.
“Where have you been?” Brittany asks as soon as she answers.
“Meeting my mom.”
“That was two hours ago. I’ve been waiting to hear how it went, you know.”
“Sorry. It wasn’t great,” I mumble.
“Were you with her this whole time?”
I pause, not wanting to lie to her, but also unwilling to tell her the truth. “Mostly.”
She’s silent, waiting for me to say more. When I don’t, she asks, “Why are you being so secretive?”
Crap, crap, crap. She’s going to know something’s up with me and Brad. “I’m not,” I reply.
“Yes, you are. Did something happen with your mom?”
I almost smile at her question. She’s giving me an easy out. “Kind of.”
“I’m coming over,” she says, and then hangs up without saying good-bye.
I take a deep breath and hand the phone back to Gigi. I don’t really want to talk about what happened with my mom, but if it keeps us off the topic of me and Brad, I’ll happily do it. Plus, if I have to talk to someone else about my mom, Brittany is my best option.
“What did she want?” Brad asks.
“She’s coming over.”
“Great,” Gigi says. “See if she wants to stay for dinner.”
I nod and plan on making a beeline out of there, but Brad sits down at the table and starts talking to her about football. Is he not worried that the longer we sit here, the more likely she is to realize her two kids were just kissing a few minutes ago? Apparently not, because he’s reclined in the chair like he has nothing better to do.
I slide into my seat and start studying my nails. They have pink polish on them, but it’s old and chipping away at the edges. I use my thumbnail to scrape off even more as Brad and Gigi chat.
“Did you see Smith rushed for three touchdowns yesterday? Number-one fantasy running back in the league,” he says.
Gigi purses her lips and gives Brad a sideway glance. “You better hope he avoids the injury bug.”
He laughs. “You’re just jealous.”
Pointing at Brad, she says, “You knew I wanted him.”
“Payback is hell, huh?” To me, he says, “Last year, Mom worked out a trade with Adam to get Ellison when they both knew I wanted him. I didn’t even like Smith initially, but I have to say my revenge move is working out quite nicely.”
Gigi rolls her eyes like a teenager. “There’s a lot of time left. I wouldn’t be acting so cocky if I were you.”
They continue talking about their fantasy football league while I zone out. I don’t even understand how the real game works, let alone the fantasy version. I watch Gigi, trying to find any hint of her knowing about me and Brad, but I don’t see it. She’s acting exactly like she always does. So is Brad. He’s much better at this than me. I wanted to run away and avoid her, but watching the two of them makes me realize what a huge mistake that would’ve been. She would’ve known something was up.
Just then, the door opens and slams shut. Brittany rushes around the corner with Adam strolling in behind her. My stomach drops. This is going to totally blow our cover. He wouldn’t come over here if we just left his house a few minutes ago.
“Come on,” Brittany says, grabbing my arm and pulling me up from the chair. “We need to talk. Oh, hi, Mrs. Campbell,” she says when she sees Gigi standing at the counter.
“Hey, Mrs. C,” Adam says, sitting down next to Brad. “Long time, no see, man,” he continues while giving Brad a fist bump.
“Weren’t you guys just together?” Gigi asks. My heart stops.
“Yeah,” he says casually. “I kicked him and Hailey out because I had homework, but then Brittany called and said she needed a ride over here. You know me—I can’t resist a damsel in distress.”
Gigi smiles and says, “Can you stay for dinner?”
That’s the last I hear because Brittany drags me around the corner and into the living room.
I can’t believe how easily both Brad and Adam are able to come up with excuses on the fly. I’d be stuttering and blushing and totally giving myself away, but they acted perfectly natural and Gigi didn’t suspect a thing. It makes me wonder if they have a lot of practice lying to their parents. It doesn’t seem like them, but they’re awfully good at it.
“What happened?” Brittany whispers.
“Let’s go to the basement,” I suggest, wanting to put as much space between me and Gigi as possible.
When we settle ourselves onto the sofa downstairs, she asks me again, “So?”
“What?” I ask slowly, now a little worried Adam might have told her something about Brad’s text.
“You and your mom,” she says, drawing her eyebrows together. “Unless there’s something else?”
What is wrong with me? She didn’t suspect anything until I started acting suspicious.
“No, nothing else,” I reply, shaking my head. “The visit just has me on edge.”
“What happened?”
“We got into a fight and she smacked my face and I elbowed her in the nose.”
Brittany’s eyes grow wide. “Holy shit. What’d DSS do?”
“Separated us.”
“Are they going to make you see her again?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Well, hopefully not. She’ll need to pass a bunch of drug screenings, which I doubt she can do.”
“Good.”
I nod. “Sherry’s goal is to prevent any more visits before I age out.”
“When’s your birthday?”
“Middle of March.”
“That’s not too far away.”
I nod again and then it dawns on me: It’s really not that far away. I’ve finally gotten into a good situation, and everything will change again in a few months. “Um … what exactly happens when I age out?” I ask, as unexpected dread starts to creep in.
“You’ll get an apartment or go to a group home.”
“I don’t have money for an apartment.”
“DSS will help. That’s what LINKS is for—to make sure none of us”—she uses air quotes—“‘falls through the cracks.’”
The fact that I’m expected to be on my own in five months is frightening. More than frightening. It’s terrifying. I suppose I should have realized it was coming, but the timing never really clicked. I’ll still have school, plus I’ll need a job to pay for an apartment. And I have no car to get anywhere. Suddenly, the Brad issue seems juvenile when I’ll soon have real-world adult problems to deal with.
“What’s wrong?” Brittany asks.
“I’m—I’m scared. I’m not ready to be on my own.”
“None of us ever are, but it’ll be fine. My friends who have aged out are doing okay. It takes a while, but most of them get their act together. Plus, you have the Campbells,” she says, rocking her shoulder into mine. “They’re not going to let you starve.”
I guess. But it’s not like I expect them to invite me over for dinner all the time after I move out. Once I’m gone, their responsibility to me is over. “When’s your birthday?” I ask.
“June. Hey, maybe we can be roommates,” she says, her eyes lighting up.
That would make the whole situation better. At least we’d have each other to lean on as we try to hold down jobs and scrape up enough money for rent. “That would be good.”
“We’ll get a place downtown so we can walk to our jobs,” she says, moving to the edge of the cushion. “Maybe we can be waitresses at Southern Prime. I heard they make a killing in tips. Plus, you get a free steak every time you work!”
I smile at her excitement. It’s nice to see this from her perspective, since she’s more of a glass-half-full kind of person while I usually feel like I’m staring at the bottom of an empty glass.
Before we can say anything else, the boys come barging down the stairs. “Who wants to play Ping-Pong?” Adam asks when he clears the bottom step.
Brittany hops up, beaming, and joins him at the table. As soon as she does, his mouth spreads into a massive grin, making me wonder what’s going on between the two of them. Maybe it’s not just me and Brad kissing in private.
Brad steps near me and lowers his hand to my shoulder. He squeezes it and then runs his fingers down my back. The whole thing didn’t last more than a second, but my nerves shoot through the roof. I spin to the stairs, sure Gigi will be standing there, but it’s empty. Then I focus on Brittany and Adam, worried they saw, but they’re too preoccupied with each other to have noticed.
Finally, I look at Brad, who’s standing innocently next to me. I have to give it to him—he’s much smoother than I am.
“Does your mom know?” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “Not a clue.”
“Adam?”
He shakes his head again. “Like I said—he won’t ask questions. Brittany?”
Now it’s my turn to shake my head.
“See, we’re two slick secret agents living dual lives.”
“You really think we can do it?” I ask.
“If today was a test, we aced it.”
Huh. I guess we did. As nervous as I was, no one suspects anything.
“Well?” he asks. “Are you still thinking about it or have you made your decision?”
I’m about to automatically say what a bad idea it is, but then I catch myself. Is that just a gut reaction from the-glass-is-always-empty Hailey? I glance at Brittany and Adam, who are laughing together like they don’t have a care in the world.
Is it wrong of me to want that? Probably. But do I deserve it after everything I’ve gone through? I’d like to think so.
I bite my lip and look into Brad’s eyes.
I see the hope building the longer I take to answer.
The fact that I kissed Brad today probably means the decision was already made, even if I hadn’t admitted it to myself. Maybe, sometimes, the most logical option isn’t the best one. Maybe I need to tell my brain to go on a long vacation so I can follow my heart.
I slowly nod.
“Yeah?” he asks, his entire face lighting up.
“Yeah,” I say with more confidence.
That’s it.
It’s done.
I have officially agreed to have a totally inappropriate and secret relationship with my foster brother.
What could possibly go wrong with that?