AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Azalea scoffs. “No. You know he won’t talk about it.”
“When was the last time you tried?”
“Last summer. I asked for her last name. I can’t remember what he said. He just talked around the question, then changed the subject.”
I swallow. “So basically the same thing he does every time you bring it up.”
“Yeah.”
“What did you do?”
“I dropped it,” she says with a sigh. “This is literally the only thing I’ve ever felt like I can’t talk to him about. I don’t know how to handle it. And if makes me wonder if…” She pauses, rolling her lips and toying with a loose strand of hair. “If there’s something he doesn’t want me to know. Something bad.”
“Like…something she did?”
“Or that he did,” she says quietly.
I can’t imagine Julian Medina having skeletons in his closet. His universe revolves around Azalea. As far as I can tell, all he does is go to work, read spy novels, and spend time with her. “Your dad would never do anything to hurt you.”
“Except hide my past from me.” She raises her dark eyes to mine, and I’m surprised at the ferocity I see there. “I ordered one of those DNA tests. The ones that match you with relatives.”
I blink in surprise. Azalea isn’t timid, exactly, but she usually prefers to let things lie rather than stir them up. “What are you going to do if you find someone?”
Azalea sighs. She lets her head fall back, and for about two seconds, I have an extremely distracting view of her neck and collarbone. “I have no idea. I guess I’ll figure it out when it happens. If it does.”
I nod slowly, watching her. She looks conflicted. Maybe a little guilty. I ache to smooth out the crease in her brow, but I keep my hands on my side of the table. “You deserve to know, Zale,” I tell her quietly. “If he won’t tell you, I think you have every right to poke around.”
Azalea’s shoulders relax a little bit. “Thanks, Mav. Could you—could we not tell Callie about this?”
“’Course.”
Our eyes meet, and we share a small smile. It’s not that either of us doesn’t trust Callie. Callie and I have been friends since elementary school, and I’d guess that Azalea is closer to her than Audrey at this point. It’s just that, when it comes to things she’s private about, Azalea tends to only clue in one person.
For whatever reason, that person is usually me.
I don’t know why. Maybe it goes back to the fact that I’m the only one—besides her dad—who’s ever seen her have a panic attack. I love being that person for her, though, so if she asks me not to tell anyone, I’m damn sure going to keep my mouth shut.
“Anyway,” she says eventually. “We don’t have to talk about that anymore. How was your weekend?”
I would talk about it for as long as she wanted, but it’s clear she wants to change the subject. “It was fine. Boring. Gym and homework. My parents asked me to come home next weekend.”
“What for?”
I shrug. “Nothing special. I haven’t spent a full weekend at home since school started. Mom said Lilly’s been asking about me.”
“How do you think Lilly will handle you moving away to play in the minors?”
The question brings me a pang of sadness. My sister Lilly was ten when I started college, and she had a really hard time with my not being around all the time. It doesn’t seem to bother her anymore, but I’m only half an hour away; it’s easy to pop in to hang out. That won’t be the case come June. “Not sure,” I admit. “That part will suck. I’ll miss her too.”
Not as much as I’ll miss you,I add in my head, and instinctively press my lips together, just in case the words try to slip through of their own volition.
I’m so focused on keeping my mouth shut that it takes me a few moments to notice that Azalea has grown quiet. I look over to see her staring into her bowl, listlessly twirling her spoon through the last dregs of herajiaco.
“Zale.”
“Hmm?”
“It’ll be okay.”
