20. The Ice Cream's Melting.

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So, I have a half-sister. Or just a sister. I'm honestly not sure of the logistics of it.

Haha yeah, sorry I didn't mention it before. Maya is my fathers daughter. Yes, he was married before he met my mother but it kinda fell apart a year or two after Maya was born and not long after, my mom and dad met and got married. And, the rest is kinda obvious.

If I'm being honest, I'm actually the only one other than my dad that knows about Maya. Yeah, My mom and siblings are oblivious to my dad's messy past.

How did I find out? Well, the story starts about two years ago. I'm sixteen, and stupid. So I may or may not have snuck into my dad's office when my parents were away on business one night. I wasn't really looking for anything in particular, it's just that we were never aloud to go in. My dad always made it known that his office was strictly off limits. And, me being the stupid fucking idiot I frankly, still am, I had always wanted to know what he was hiding, because if you want to keep people out that bad, you're hiding something huge.

So, I snuck in, during the dead of night, and snooped around a little. At first, I found the usual, taxes, bills, forms, everything that a middle aged man would have in his office. Except, when I looked deeper, like underneath floorboards deeper, yes, he hid stuff underneath a floorboard, that's fucking sketchy. Anyway, I stepped on a floorboard and it creaked, and like the detectives do in the movies, I lifted it up and guess what I found?

Some dirty secrets. That's what I found. Now, if I were smart, I would've left then and there and forgotten everything I'd seen. But, obviously, I didn't.

Said, dirty secrets were of course, pictures and information on Maya. At the time I was confused as to why my dad had pictures of a twenty year old woman underneath a floorboard. Just kidding, I immediately thought he was having an affair. But, upon further inspection, I found a copy of a birth certificate with her name on it, Maya Anderson. I think it's safe to say I went bat shit crazy.

I didn't confront my father though, oh no, at least I was smart enough not to do that. What I did do though, was look her up, my newfound stepsister. And I got her number. Then I sat on it for about a month while I contemplated what the fuck I should do with it. And, within that month, I didn't speak a word to my father. My mother worried why, but I didn't tell her anything.

At the time, I thought she'd be devastated. But, now that I think about it, it's not that bad. Yeah, so what my dad was married before he met my mother. But the real problem was the fact that my dad left his child, not even bothering to contact her and give her a life where she actually had a dad. That's why I kept my mouth shut.

I wanted to hear Maya's side of the story. So I called her. I told her who my dad was and she hung up on me which was to be expected. So I called her again, and again, and again. When she eventually picked up again she told me to meet her at one of the cafes in the town over from mine.

I met her there and she didn't even give me a chance to say hello before she started yelling at me. After a good ten minutes, she finally stopped and I started to explain how I, and the rest of my family, had no idea she existed.

Then, she told me how her mother had told her about her father leaving since she was a kid. She told me how she knew about her fathers new family and how he completely abandoned her. Then we cried, a lot, and laughed some too. We got to know each other and realised how similar we were. We met up almost every week in that same cafe. She was the only person I told about my sexuality, other than Sarah.

And now, two years later, she's my big sister. Not my  half sister. She feels like my sister. It's weird to think that I didn't grow up with her. We may look a lot different, even though we have the same father. But, she's my sister. It feels weird having a sister who my other siblings don't even know exists though. Maya made me swear to keep her a secret from my family. She said that if our father wanted no part in her life, then she wanted no part in his. Except for me. I was her exception.

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