Adopted By The Wrong Number: Part 4: Chris Evans Fanfic

Chapter 31- Off Topic

Welcome to another day in the life, where I woke up at 5 am, and then fell asleep as soon as i finished all my classes, and didn't wake up till 11:30 am, and that was thanks to my father who threw a pillow at me.

I assuming I fell asleep on his bed, because I was on his bed. No shit sherlock. Im so fucking dumb. So today my dad stayed true to his promise, and legit watched me eat breakfast. Did I throw up afterwards? Possibly, you'll never know. But I did, that's not important. To be fair I did say that I wouldn't be able to stomach it mostly because I'm still shaky from yesterday, and still processing everything.

After the throwing up I just kept to myself, because yeah. Then my dad started talking to me.

"You do know we have to talk about it right?"

"Maybe later?"

"Yeah but you can't just avoid it."

"Ya know he was dead for the past basically 7 years he can stay dead for all I care."

"Hope."

"He left me, he abandoned me, he left me with someone who never gave a shit about me, and then expects me to suddenly care, even though he had nothing to do with meeting again, it was just a thing that happened."

"I know I have no idea what you're going through, but if you just explain to me what you feel I can try to help."

"Dad, I'm fine, honestly, I'm just mad."

Even though I was mad I wasn't exactly fine either. What was wrong with me was that he didnt wanna know about me anymore, he just sorta dealt with me for 10 years and then had people tell me he died. I thought I never got to say goodbye, and the fact was he never wanted me to. What was so wrong with me that he didn't want me anymore.

I can't say that he didn't want a family because obviously that wasn't the case, he had another kid. My brother, and to be honest I don't even wanna meet him. Is that mean? No right? Maybe, look, I know it's not his fault, but I don't wanna get to know either of them, at least not right now. I'm not sure if that's gonna change or not.

"Hope."

"Yeah?" My dad calling me got me out of my zoned out type of state.

"Stop pushing your nails to your hand."

I quickly took my hand and hid it behind me. I haven't done that in a while. I didn't even check whether I was bleeding or not.

"Hope, let me see your hand."

No matter what I had to give him my hand, so I just did it. Turns out I was able to make myself bleed. Fuck.

"So I have nothing to clean this right now."

I just stayed quiet. This wasn't part of the plan, and never was. But I'm not necessarily complaining, even though I didn't mean to, it kinda granted me some relief, and it felt good.

My dad basically led me to the bathroom and rinsed it with cold water, I was still surprised I did it. Afterwards when the bleeding stopped, I just sat there with my thoughts, meanwhile I think Chris was just trying to figure out exactly what the fuck was happening. Seriously this is what I get for coming back to California, might as well stay in Massachusetts.

"Okay so we need to go eat, and then go to Cvs or something to get some things just in case, and then we need to actually talk talk, because what just happened shouldn't have, and I know you weren't trying to but you did, and you looked like you liked it, and that's where the worry is coming in."

I just shrugged off what he said, it's not that big of a deal. It's fine, it's whatever. At least I thought it was, look I normalize a lot of shit that probably isn't normal. Example: talking to myself, to be fearful for a good period of time I needed to keep myself company, it was pathetic yes, but did I care? Or do I care? No I don't give a shit, it keeps me sane.