“I have to tell you something,” I say.
She looks at me, her jaw relaxed and her lips slightly parted. I can see a few of the stitches in her mouth.
Five minutes. And I need her to not call the police or text Valencia. If she does, it might ruin everything.
“I don’t know how to say this so I’m just going to say it.”
Gramma Sharon lets out a low grunt that I take to meango on.
“I’m... not Nate. I lied when I was arrested. I’m a gay kid from West Virginia who ran away from home when his parents tried to send him to conversion therapy.”
Sharon’s expression doesn’t change.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I never meant for things to get so out of control. I thought the police would do a DNA test and prove I’m not Nate before they even let Valencia and Marcus know. But then they showed up at the hospital and everything went so off the rails. I know it’s no excuse, but also... it was nice. Having a family who cared about me. Having people who actually...” I can’t say the word because it feels so foreign to me.
Sharon clasps my hands tightly. Her eyes are glassy. She gives me a slow nod.
Continue.
“I wanted you to know the truth. Before everyone else finds out, I wanted to tell you because... I wish I had a gramma who was like you. I mean, I did once. And you reminded me why she was so special. She might be the only person who ever loved me.”
Sharon takes her hand away and smacks my arm hard.
“Ow!”
She looks mad now. “Mmm!” She points to herself.
Me.
And that’s all I need to lose my composure. Tears spill down mycheeks and she pulls me into a hug, swaying back and forth as she holds me and lets me cry. She probably has so many questions and so many things to say—I mean, thisisGramma Sharon we’re talking about. But she can’t, so she holds me.
Soon a car horn bleats out front. She turns her head toward the front of the house and then looks back at me questioningly.
“I have to go do something.” I can’t get into the whole Easton thing right now. Not without proof. But she needed to know the truth about me. Because if I do find something, it won’t be long before that secret is out, too.
I stand and pull back the curtain to see Miles sitting in his car out front. I hold up a finger, telling him I’ll be out in a minute.
When I turn back to Gramma Sharon, she claps her hands together and then holds them out, palms up.
Where are you going? What’s going on?
“I have to fix something. Or it’s going to make it all worse.” Miles texts me and I start a text back to tell him I’ll be right out.
Gramma Sharon snatches the phone out of my hand. I reach for it back, but she shakes her head. She walks over to her bag on the kitchen counter and takes out her own. Then she hands it over to me. She holds a backward peace sign up to me and makes anmmmsound. V.
Valencia.
She can track my phone’s location. I nod and put Gramma Sharon’s in my pocket.
Miles honks again and she growls and looks in his direction. Then she holds my face in her hands, looking up at me. And it’s still there. The love I’ve always felt from her.
I hug her. Then she holds up my phone lock screen. I give her my password and she types out something quickly. Gramma Sharon’s phone dings in my hand—because hers is never on silent.
It’s a text from me.I knew.
Of course she did.
She’s Gramma Sharon.
