Wonderwall

Chapter 7

"You grew up there?" I whisper.

He nods, smiling.

"What..." I hesitate. "Nevermind."

"You can ask." He murmurs.

"What is it like..." I hesitate. "To grow up?"

He's quiet for a long time.

"To grow up with a family..." I mumble. "Do you have siblings? What is that like?"

"I have two siblings." He nods. "A brother and a sister. My brother is the oldest. His name is Alexander. We call him Alex. He's twenty six. He and I used to fight a lot. We would fist fight. My parents hated it. We stopped eventually. My little sister used to annoy me a lot, but she's sixteen. She's eight years younger than me. Now if I hear anything about boys or something hurting her...I'll kick their ass. My parents are..." he smiles. "My Mom was a soccer Mom. She attended every event, every game, every PTA meeting for all three of us. She encouraged us to follow our dreams. When I got onto the team, she attended every single home game. She still tries to come when she can. She's a great Mom. A teacher." He smiles. "She loves to bake. She loves Christmas time because she loves making cookies with the family." He smiles. "And my Dad, he loves my Mom so much. They were so obviously in love. It's beautiful. He would do what he can to help. He worked a lot. He owns a construction company. He plays games with us. We had family game night every Friday. He was the one that taught me baseball. He even helps my sister with her gymnastics, and my brother with football. He always back us up when we get in trouble with Mom. He taught my brother and I how to ride down the staircase on snow sleds when we were kids. Mom was at work because it was a school day where you don't have to go but the teacher does. Anyways, we were home, my sister wasn't born yet. I was six, and I rode down the stairs on sleds and I broke my wrist. Dad took us to the hospital and my Mom was so mad at him when she came home and saw that cast on my arm." He laughs. "What about you?" he whispers. "What is it like for you to grow up a foster kid?"

I sigh slowly.

"Well...it's sad. You know when you start school that you're not going to be here a while, so I didn't even try to make friends. I switched schools multiple times. Anyways, you go to bed fine and the next morning you could wake up and get told to pack your things. You're scared because you don't know if the next home is going to be nice. Some of the parents are really sweet, and some of them are abusive." I shrug. "It's not fun. It's miserable. I don't have any happy memories."

He looks down.

"Do you ever want to find your real parents?"

I nod.

"All the time." I sigh. "I feel like not knowing is really messing me up."

"So why don't you try?" he asks.

I shrug.

"I'm nervous, that's all."

He nods, understanding.

"Well, it's getting late. We should go."

I nod, standing up.

The sun is completely gone.

He pulls a flashlight out of his bag, handing his to me.

We leave, starting the hike back.

I keep tripping, and he keeps having to catch me.

A stick cracks near us. I freeze, grabbing his wrist.

"Noah..." I whisper, my voice hush.

He moves his flashlight to the ground, and he doesn't find anything, so he shines it around.