Chapter 9 - Em

58 1 0
                                    

Our family used to go to brunch quite often, especially on weekends, but today, we're all sitting at the table, talking about the move, the restaurant, Nonna, my dancing, Roberto's research, Mom's last fundraiser. Trying to sound normal and cheery and happy. And failing.

I clear my throat. "I've received a notification on Facebook that someone might have more information about my birth parents."

Everyone turns to me: Mom's hands shake, Roberto frowns and Dad's eyes widen.

"What are you talking about?" Dad says and turns to Mom. "What is she talking about?"

I hate when he speaks as if I'm not in the room. "She's right here." I point to my face. "And I'm talking about the Find My Birth Parents group. I showed it to you last week."

"I thought we agreed you would wait until you're eighteen."

"No. That's not what we agreed. We agreed I could start searching, but that I needed to keep you updated on my progress. Mom said she would help."

"That's true." Mom's voice trembles and Roberto glares at me.

Dad takes a deep breath and closes the conversation with his usual, "We'll talk about this later."

I plop myself on my bed, lie down with my eyes open, thinking about what I could have said differently to convince them. Maybe if I didn't snap at them, maybe if I told them again that it didn't change the way I feel about them, maybe if I told them I have the feeling I'm losing myself not knowing where I come from.

Three fast taps and one slow tap on my door snap me away from me feeling sorry about myself. It's Roberto's and my secret knock, the one we came up with when we were younger and grounded and defying the rules.

"What do you want?" I call.

"Can I come in?" he asks, and his voice sounds way too serious. With the way he was looking at me during dinner, I know he's not about to tell me that I'm right and Dad's wrong. But I also can't leave him in the hallway after he's used our secret knock.

"Whatever," I reply and hide my face under my arm.

The door screeches open and he clears his throat three times. "I don't understand," he says and nudges me. "Don't be a baby, look at me."

"According to you, I'm the baby of the family anyways," I whine. I hate it but I can't help it. From time to time, I revert to my twelve-year-old self—insecure and whiny. When Roberto was fourteen and pushing my buttons.

"You're acting like one." He sighs. "Come on Em, let's talk about this." He pauses. "Rationally."

"Because of course I'm not being rational. Of course, there's something wrong with me for wanting to meet my parents. Of course there's something wrong." I look up at him.

"And in one second, you go from baby to drama queen," he says. I would be offended if he didn't smile the way he does. It's his half smile, the one he only has when he gets hurt and doesn't want to show it. Roberto never wants to show he has feelings.

"What do you want to tell me?" I sit up and pat the spot next to me. Instead of sitting there, he pulls a chair over and sits in front of me, boring his eyes into mine.

"I'm afraid you're going to get hurt," he says.

"But isn't that supposed to be my decision?"

"Wasn't that supposed to be your birth parents' decision?" He pauses. "Listen, they abandoned you outside this hospital for a reason. They may not want to be found. And let's say you do find them; what are you going to do?"

I glance at my nails...they're still pinkish from the last nail polish I used. I don't chew my nails, but I have a very big urge to check my hair for split ends. I run my hair through my fingers, and Roberto gently slaps them away.

"I'm not saying it's easy for you. But I don't want it to become even more difficult. What do you want to find? Why are you even doing this?"

"Because I don't know who I am. I'm afraid of what I could find, but I'm even more afraid of not finding anything. I'm afraid that a part of me will always wonder, always worry."

"And if you find them and they're fucked up or they hurt you. Do you want a relationship with them? They kicked you to the curb!"

"We don't know that for sure! I was wrapped in a baby blanket. Lovingly. Someone did love me." I look away from him, hating my voice for breaking, hating myself for breaking along with it. I wipe away my tears and blink super fast to avoid any new ones. "Why can't you be supportive?"

"Sometimes, it feels like you're not happy with what you got. That you want a redo." Roberto stands up. "We're your family."

"And I'm happy for that. Nothing will change the fact that you're my brother."

"I hope you're right. Because right now, it feels like it has already changed things."

"It hasn't," I protest but still can't look at him. The tension I feel is mounting. Because of the search he doesn't approve of. Because he doesn't understand me.

"You don't have to do it alone," Roberto says. And I know he wants me to ask him for help. But I can't. Not right now. I don't want to add any additional pain to the one he's clearly already feeling.

"I know," I reply. "Thank you," I add. And he nods one time before leaving my room. I stretch my muscles and slowly get up where my laptop's standing.

And I lose myself inthe search.

Author's note:

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you're enjoying getting to know Em & Nick! I'll be publishing two new chapters every Friday and would love to hear from you, so don't hesitate to leave a comment. The full novella is already published/available on all e-retailers for only $0.99 in case you don't want to wait for the next chapter :) More information on www.elodienowodazkij.com :)

A Summer Like No OtherWhere stories live. Discover now