"Jellybean, how come you have two dads?"
"What do you mean, how come?"
"Like, I just... I thought everyone had a mom and a dad."
"Not everyone. I don't. I have two dads."
"But... why?"
"Well... I dunno the whole story, but Dad told me that some families have two moms, some have two dads, and some have just one mom or one dad. He said families are like puzzles, and each one looks different and has different coloured pieces, but they all fit together. Because they're families."
"But what about your mom?"
"I don't know. I got adopted. She was sick, and she went away. But I get double Dad hugs and double Pap's bedtime stories."
"My mom went away too. Um, I don't want double dads. I don't like mine very much."
"My dads are awesome, and they love me lots, so they can be your dads too if you want. Paps makes the best pancakes. I bet a mom couldn't do that."
"Faro makes waffles, but he got burnt last time."
"Oh. That sucks."
"Yeah. It sucks."
ｃｈｒｉｓ
Toothpaste foam bubbles up as I brush. I blink the sleep from my eyes, staring at my reflection. I'm okay with how I look. My hair's growing—it's just past my chin, now, choppy and without order. My cheeks have colour, and my eyes are alive. Mirrors have been kinder to me lately.
I spit, rinse, and finish up. The hallway feels quiet this morning. Grabbing my bright purple tote and notebooks, I head to the living room with a tingling tongue. A strange warmth surrounds me, like the house is waking up too.
Noah's already up, steam swirling from his coffee as he sits at the island. He's wearing that focused look with those focused clothes, marking papers in red ink. Super focused. He doesn't notice me.
Across from him, Jed's humming a tune, flipping through a big, thick book. Today's title: The BD Apocalypse Codes.
But his humming? It's... familiar. Way too familiar.
It takes me a second, but then I get it. It's the lullaby my paps used to sing to me when I was little, right before bed.
I hesitate, staring at them, my bag clutched in my arms. Don't be weird, just go. But Cam's not here. Go anyway. I shuffle over to the kitchen island and ask, "Mind if I sit?"
Noah barely looks up. "You live here, Chris."
I blink. "Right. Right. Of course."
I sit, adjusting my skirt with flushed cheeks. Maybe I should have picked a longer one, but I have this plan for today and I just... Maybe I should have picked a longer one.
To distract myself, I pull out the sheet of potential classes for Semester One, but the words blur. Physics, calculus, biology, chemistry... I've crossed most of them out. I don't like any of them. Not since—well, cancer changes things. My blood went rogue. Science kept me alive but it's not what I live for.
Also, I'm super bad at it.
I sigh and bite the cap of my pen. What am I good at? I'm twenty-two. Shouldn't I know by now?
YOU ARE READING
Beside
Romance''Tell me how it feels,'' he whispers. "Good," I gasp, my entire body trembling. Deeper. Harder. Perfect -- like we've been doing this for years. His hand finds my jaw, fingers firm as he tilts my head up, making me look at him. And that's it. Wav...
