The Charade:
"Doesn't it ever occur to you that your birth parents are out there somewhere?" Harry asked me again for the fifth time this week.
I grabbed a stack of folded clothes and neatly tucked them into my dresser.
"Nope."
Harry looked at me oddly, "really?"
"Harry, they gave me up for adoption. Why should I even think about them for even just a second?"
He shrugged his shoulders and went back to folding the freshly washed white towels that smelt of mold for keeping them in the dryer for too long.
Harry is my brother, not by blood, but we are pretty darn close. I was adopted by Harry's parents when I was as young as I can remember. His parents are two of the most nicest people I have ever met.
Harry has been by my side since the beginning. It was hard for me to adjust to things at first but with a little help of Harry, everything turned out to be okay.
We hang out all the time. He's basically my best friend. Considering the fact that I am only two months older than him, we get along perfectly fine. We rarely get into fights and when we do it's over the stupidest, most immature things people could ever fight over.
All he wants for me is to be happy and that's all I want for him too. He's always been persistent on helping me find my birth parents but honestly, I wish he'd just give it up. For, it is the past and I don't remember them at all so even if I did find them, it wouldn't do me any good.
I don't even think of my biological parents as my parents anymore. They're strangers now. Therefore, finding out who my biological parents are would just be a waste of my time.
"Why do you care so much, Harry?" I finally asked.
He stopped folding and looked at me, "I care about you Skylar." He stood up and walked out of my room.
I followed. "Harry?" I called after him.
He turned around and looked at me with his bright green eyes, "yes?" His left eyebrow rose.
"I love you."
He smiled, nodded and then continued into his bedroom. He shut his door behind him and his loud music started playing, like always.
I heard footsteps on the stairs and looked to find my mom.
She was holding an empty laundry basket. "Did you kids finish folding the towels?" She pinched my cheek and walked into my room.
I followed behind her. "Yes mom." I collapsed on my bed and groaned.
"What's wrong honey?" She asked, piling up the towels in the basket.
"Harry is bugging me."
My mom chuckled. "He just likes you sweetie."
"Yeah but mom, he won't stop bothering me about my *real* parents..."
The looked on my mom's face was indescribable. She looked angry but happy at the same time.
Was I missing something?
"Well don't do that." She grabbed the basket and walked away. So fast that I couldn't even ask why not. The door slammed behind her.
Every time I bring up my biological parents, she always gets so defensive. Almost like she's jealous or something.
I know she's not jealous because that would be stupid. Especially because I'm *her* daughter now.
