I may have blown my chances with Calvin. I don’t blame him at all. If I’d walk in onhimhaving anexchangelike ours in the kitchen, I’d probably not have been courteous enough to sit through an entire movie or make small talk. I’d have just left. Plus, for as lovely as Calvin is, that kiss did absolutely nothing for me. Maybe, once the dust settles, we can be friends.
I pull out my phone, content to distract myself by scrolling through life updates of people I mostly don’t know. I have a few unread notifications, my group chat with my old roommates, a few Twitter news blasts, and an email from my mother that I open first.
Hello, Darling!
Your father and I have booked flights to come visit. Surprise! Flying in on the 19th and will be out on the 24th. We’ll be available for a visit on your birthday, but otherwise our schedule is filling up rather quickly. If you aren’t available, please do let us know so we can make other plans. We can go out (if you can find a sitter) or have dinner at yours. Anyway, hope you’re well—and keeping up with your work despite distractions. Janine said Rodney is still hiring at the firm, if you’re interested.
Love, Mom
Someone could write their senior thesis on all the passive-aggressive emails I have from my mother, but this one isn’tthe worst. Even so, I can’t help but feel a twinge of hurt rising. They’re coming for five days but only want to visit just the one evening of my birthday. And, she didn’t ask about Willow—or even name her. Then, there’s the mention of work and the familiar offer to work at her friend’s husband’s marketing firm—totally disregarding my need to work from home right now. I open a reply.
Hi Mom and Papa,
Looking forward to seeing you on the 20th. I will host here. If you guys are still vegan, there is a place around the corner that’s pretty good. We can sort that out closer to the time, though. Willow and I are well. She’s amazing. I can’t wait for you both to meet her. I also have roommates for you to meet. CPS sometimes partners new guardians up to support each other for the first six months—sort of a team approach! It has been helpful so far as I adjust. Hope you’re both well. Miss you. Give Abuela a hug from me.
My mom had lost her ever-loving mind when I told her about Willow. She told me all the ways I would fail, in literal bullet-point format, if I attempted next-of-kin care. The top of her list was my finances. So I’m certainly not going to be honest and tell her that TeamUp was the only way to have Willow here.
I know she means well—they both do.
When I was adopted at seven, I was only beginning the fun of figuring out who I was and what I was interested in. I loved art, mess, blurred lines and loud music, bright colours and my frizzy hair, glitter glue and comic books. Then I was plunged into a family who valued the opposite of most of those things and whom I was desperate to impress. They tamed me.
I heard my mother say that to her friends once as they sat around our dining table. “We’ve tamed her.” Like I was a dog they’d gotten from the pound. The other adults laughed in response, not knowing I was on the other side of the door.
I let that thought pass as quickly as it comes. When I told her I’d overheard, she’d apologised enough for a hundred lifetimes. Still, it burns as brightly in my chest as it did then. I sit up and scan the quiet living room. There will certainly be some cleaning to do before they visit—but I have a month.
As I’m about to get back to scrolling, a door opens from down the hall.
“Hey.” Warren’s deep voice is soft, so as to not wake Willow upstairs. “Can we talk?”
“Sure,” I mimic his tone as I sit up.
Warren sighs with a weary smile. “I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have interfered with your date. I didn’t mean to make it weird.”
I glare at him playfully. “Yes, you did.”
He grins. “Yeah… fine. But I wish I hadn’t.”
That I can buy.“I didn’t stop you.”
“No, you didn’t.” He sits at the other end of the couch, his arm draping across the back.
“So, it isn’t entirely your fault.” I bite my thumb.
We’re both quiet, waiting to hear what the other’s going to say. I hold out longer—for once.
Warren exhales, rubbing his forehead as he begins to speak. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll do it. I’ll follow your rules, Chloe. I don’t want to mess this up for anyone. Though…” His bravado returns ever so slightly. “I could definitely try the same argument I used on Luke to convince him it was a good idea… if you’d like.”
Don’t beg with your eyes, Chloe.
“I should probably factor it into the decision-making process,” I jest weakly.
“And Calvin? Is he a factor?”
I shake my head. Warren tilts his chin, looking away from me in what I think is an attempt to hide his mischievous smile.
“So, that argument?” I can’t help it; I desperately want to know.
He pauses, giving me a once over. It’s as if he’s understanding for the first time that I’m interested in him, like that hasn’t beenentirelyobvious. A crooked smile forms, and his eyes fixate on my lips for a second too long. He shakes himself out of it before speaking.
