Page 9 of Trusting Easton


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“You still haven’t?”

“No. I said goodbye to my grandparents when they left, but I haven’t talked to my parents. If I do, I’ll just say something I’ll regret. It’s better to keep my mouth shut.”

“Did they say you can’t see her?”

“They implied it, but they didn’t come out and say it. They really haven’t said much to me since we talked in my dad’s office. I think my parents are trying to figure out what to do. I already told them I’d move out when I turn 18 if they try to keep me from seeing her.”

“No shit?” He drops his feet to the floor and sits up. “Would you really do it?”

“Maybe. I lived on the streets before. I can do it again.”

He shakes his head as he leans back. “I still can’t fucking believe that. How could you keep that a secret for so long? I mean, shit, kids are always blabbing about stuff they shouldn’t. How are you like eight or nine and not telling your friends you were adopted?”

“My parents convinced me it was some big family secret never to be told. I didn’t even question it. I just assumed I’d be in big trouble if I told, or that they’d get so mad they’d send me back to the foster home.”

“That’s messed up. I don’t get it. A lot of people are adopted. What’s the big deal?”

“I think it was less about the adoption and more about where I came from. Living on the streets. My parents being high school dropouts, getting arrested for shit. That’s not something you want to tell your rich friends.”

“Why? Who the fuck cares? It’s not like you turned out like your parents, the ones who had you.”

“Yeah, I know. I don’t get it either, and every time I ask my parents why my adoption was such a huge secret, they give me the same old shit about me being their kid and not wanting to think of me belonging to someone else.” I get up. “I don’t want to talk about it. It just pisses me off. I’m going to head out.”

“You’re going home?”

“I’m going to the diner. She’s probably not there, but I want to know for sure. Then maybe I’ll stop by her apartment again.”

He gets up. “I’ll go with you.”

“Jace, no offense, but you’re only going to make it worse. You shoved a giant pickle in her face and pretended it was a penis.”

“It was a joke. I was kidding around.”

“And then called her a bitch when she didn’t go along with it. You’re not her favorite person.”

“So I’ll go there and apologize.” He comes up to me. “I gotta get out of the house. Just let me go with you. I’ll wait in the car if I have to.”

“Fine. But if you say anything to upset her, I’ll punch you so fucking hard.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior. I promise.” He smirks.

Against my better judgment, I let him go with me, mainly because I don’t think she’ll be there.

“Is Nova here?” I ask a waitress as she wipes down a table.

“She was supposed to be, but she called in sick.” The woman glances at me and smiles. “Did you two have plans?”

She’s acting like she knows me, like Nova told her about me. I wonder what she said. Did she tell her we’re dating or just friends? I doubt Nova would tell her we’re dating, given how hard it was for her to admit that to herself.

“We didn’t have plans,” I say. “I just wanted to talk to her. Is she working tomorrow?”

“She’s on the schedule, but she might not come in if she’s sick.” The woman stops cleaning and turns to me. “Did you try calling her?”

“Yeah, but I keep getting her voicemail.”

Since getting my phone back last night, I’ve been calling Nova nonstop, but her phone goes straight to voicemail. I think she blocked my number. I guess I’m not surprised by that, but it makes it a lot harder to explain to her what happened yesterday. The longer I go without talking to her, the more she’ll convince herself I’m just some guy who lied to her and kept her a secret instead of the guy who loves her and was just trying to protect her.

“You want to stay and eat?” Jace says, glancing around at the nearly empty diner.

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