“No,” I say. “It’s not true.”
The phone is silent.
“Dad, say something! Tell me it’s not true!”
He doesn’t, and when I look at the phone, I see he’s gone. He hung up.
I call right back, but it goes straight to a message telling me the caller is unavailable. I call again and again and keep getting that same message. He’s not going to pick up. He’s done with me.
Because he’s not my real father.
How is that possible? My mom wouldn’t have lied to me. There’s no way she would do that. Why would she tell me I’m Devon’s kid if I’m really Brock’s kid? And why would she be with Brock? He’s not her type at all, not that Devon is either, but Brock? Not in a million years would I put them together. Plus, he was married back then. Married to Miranda, Braden and Trystan’s mom. Miranda would’ve been pregnant with Braden. There’s no way my mom would have sex with a married man who had a child on the way. It would never happen.
I’m out of bed, pacing the floor, feeling like I’m about to throw up. I go to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face over and over, but it doesn’t help. I get in the shower, which helps for a minute, but then I think about Brock being my dad, and the sick feeling returns.
After drying off, I put on shorts and a t-shirt and go outside, hoping the cool air will make me feel better. It doesn’t. The only thing that’ll make me feel better is seeing Jackson, and he isn’ttalking to me. But if he really cares about me like I thought he did, he’ll be there for me, despite what happened.
Ignoring the cameras watching me, I go down the stairs to the beach. As I’m walking, I hear a ding on my phone. It’s a text from Jackson.
On my way to see you. Can you sneak down to the beach?
Already on it, I text back.
When I look up, I see someone coming toward me.
“Rumor?” I hear Jackson yell.
I run to him, sand kicking up everywhere. I’m angry he didn’t believe me about Kristen, but right now all I care about is being with him again. I need him now more than ever.
“Rumor.” He pulls me into his arms, lifting me off the ground. “I’m a fucking idiot. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“For what?”
He sets me down. “For not believing you. I can’t explain what you saw with Kristen and her dad, but I know you’d never make that up.”
“I wouldn’t. I would never even think to do that. Jackson, we need to talk about something else,” I say, breathless from running so fast. “My dad.”
“What about him?”
“He called me.” I take a breath. “Just now. He said he’s left town and wouldn’t tell me where he’s going. He said this was our last phone call. He was ditching his phone and—”
“Wait, stop.” Jackson grips my shoulders. “Slow down. Your dad called but he wouldn’t tell you where he was?”
“No,” I say, tears sliding down my face. “He doesn’t want me to know. He doesn’t want to see me or talk to me ever again.” I sniffle and wipe my eyes.
“I don’t understand. Why would he say that?”
I look up at Jackson. “Because he’s not really my dad.”
Jackson stares back at me, and from the look on his face, I think he already knows.
“Brock,” we both say at the same time.
“How’d you know?” I ask.
“I didn’t. But honestly, I never saw any resemblance between you and Devon. I just assumed you looked more like your mom. But the other day when I was flipping through channels I saw Brock on one of his old TV shows and I instantly saw the resemblance. It would make sense if Devon was his real brother but if Devon was really adopted, like you said, then . . .”
“Then it’s true. Brockismy dad. But if it’s true, it means my mom lied to me. It means she’s not who I thought she was.” I sniffle. “It means I didn’t really know her.”
