Without Paige

Chapter Twenty-Seven

It was well after midnight when I wove my way around the others, most of which had fallen asleep, sitting at awkward angles with their heads in their hands. I stepped outside, stopping on the porch and resting my arms on the railing. It was dark, with clouds covering the moon and most stars. The trees were reduced to shadows, towering over the cabin and me.

Looking out then, I was reminded of the few times my family and I had gone camping when Paige and I were kids. Living in the middle of a landscape of forest and mountains made it almost impossible to come up with an excuse not to, even though our mom had been more inclined to the kinds of vacations that involved mojitos and beaches.

Once, when I'd been eight and Paige nine, we'd spent a week in the middle of nowhere, sleeping in two tents miles away from any other person. There'd been no lake around, and so for the most part, Paige and I had found the exclusion more boring than anything else. But when night fell and the stars came out, we'd lie on the grass and come up with our own constellations, drawing them with our fingers on the skyline. We couldn't do that at home, not with all the lights from the city drowning out the sky.

I heard the door open behind me, and I spun to look at Miles. He was standing just outside of the door, a water bottle in his hand. I smiled, and he smiled back.

"Couldn't sleep?" He asked, and I shook my head. "Me neither."

"It's hot in there," I said, laughing. It was colder outside, by a longshot. With so many people stuffed in one room, the heat had gotten nearly unbearable. I wasn't sure how the others were able to sleep through it.

I'd left my jacket inside on the couch, and was left standing in my t-shirt. Goosebumps rose on my skin, but I didn't care. I welcomed it, knowing that as soon as I went back inside I'd probably want to be standing out here all over again.

Miles walked up next to me, leaning against the railing to my left. He cleared his throat, "I heard you and Katy talking earlier."

"I know."

"You're okay?" He asked, and I nodded. "Well, that's good."

It occured to me then that it didn't bother me when Miles and Katy asked me that. Back in the spring, when people had been asking me if I was okay every ten seconds, I'd wanted to scream. But Miles and Katy weren't trying to pry, they weren't looking for more gossip to add to the rumors. They were just worried.

I smiled softly, not knowing what else to say. I looked up again, squinting to try and get a glimpse at any stars beyond the clouds. There was one that peaked out near the edge of the treetops, a white light in a sea of black and grey.

A beat passed, and I looked over at him. From here, I could see the side of his blue eye, darker than it usually was in the absence of light. I couldn't help but wonder about him, his life. His relationship with Katy seemed so one in a million, as though there was nothing that could ever get between them. It made me feel guilty, if only because it seemed so easy for them, but for Paige and I it'd been so hard.

Eventually, I spoke, curiosity edging me. "How old were you when you were adopted?"

Miles turned his head towards me, standing up straight. "I was still a baby. I don't remember my biological parents at all."

I nodded, and not wanting to probe, I asked nothing more. A part of me had been hoping he'd say he was older, if only because that would provide some kind of explanation to me. It sounded horrible the more that I thought about it, but it somehow made sense to me. If Miles had been older, they would have started out as more friends than siblings. But, that wasn't the case. Paige's and I's relationship, or lack thereof, was just our own kind of one in a million.

Even though I didn't ask, Miles continued, and I listened to every word. "It took me years to finally get my mom to tell me anything about them, and when she finally did, I wished I could take it back."

"What do you mean?" I asked, and immediately felt horrible for voicing the words. If the roles had been switched, I'd hate having to answer anything Miles asked. "You don't have to answer that, I don't want to-"

"No, it's fine." He said, laughing. He was a lot more carefree than I was. Talking about this stuff, about his family and his past, didn't seem to hurt him as much as it hurt me, and that made me think of him as just that much stronger. "My mother was a teenager when I was born. It sounds bad, but I'd kind of hoped she was addicted to drugs or something like that, that the courts had said she couldn't take care of me. I just didn't want to hear that it'd been her decision."

"What about your father?"

He shrugged, "I don't know anything about him, neither do my parents. They think he just decided he didn't want anything to do with a kid."

I frowned, looking down at the ground. I couldn't imagine growing up without my parents, let alone being told they didn't want me. I couldn't understand how Miles could be as happy as he was all the time. It wasn't something I felt I had the right to have an opinion on, but at the same time I couldn't help it. I hated that someone had made the decision to give him up.

Still, where would he be if they hadn't? If that woman, that girl, had decided to keep him, he never would have been adopted by his parents. He never would have met Katy and had the sister he now does. It was like fate was pulling his strings, and Miles seemed okay enough with the way he'd been strung.

"Everyone has their stories," Miles said with a shrug, and I glanced back over at him. He was already looking at me, his eyes filled with kindness and comfort that made me feel like I was safe, as though everything would be okay. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, whatever happens with your parents and stuff, you have people. You're not alone."

After so many months of feeling the exact opposite, Miles' words filled me with a sense of ease. Ever since Paige left, I'd felt alone. My parents had been broken by her leaving, both their marriage and each of them on their own. Her decision had left all of us disoriented, unsure which way was left and which was right. I'd spent so much time on my own, just trying to come to terms with the fact that my family would never be the same. That my mom would never look at me like she once did, and that my dad would never be able to walk through our front door with a smile on his face. It'd been lonely, and I'd been too afraid to admit even that until now.

A minute passed, and I felt myself smile, "Thank you, Miles."

He nodded, "Anytime."