Read Believe in Us (Jett #2) Online

Authors: Amy Sparling

Believe in Us (Jett #2) (6 page)

BOOK: Believe in Us (Jett #2)
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“Okay, let’s talk.” My own voice doesn’t sound the same when I say it. I am far too scared to be coherent right now.

Park smiles. “Let’s go back home to talk.”

The short walk home feels like I’m walking to my death. Becca fills the silence with happy, pointless chit chat, but I don’t hear a word she says. Finally, we get inside and they tell me to have a seat at the dining table.

So this is how I get kicked out.

My hands shake so I close them into fists and keep them in my lap. Every time I blink, it feels like I’m going to cry.

“So,” Becca says, giving me this warm smile. “I know this might be awkward and there’s really no easy way to talk about this kind of thing . . .”

I blink back tears and wish she’d just rip it off like a bandage. Park clears his throat. They’re both sitting next to each other and I’m on the other side of this small table, yet it feels like I’ve already been cast out into the streets.

Park takes Becca’s hand. “Becca and I have been doing a lot of talking and soul-searching, and although we feel like it’s the right choice for us, want you to know that you have a say-so as well.”

I almost laugh. Right. Like I can choose to not get kicked out.

Becca gives a loving look to her husband and then looks at me. “We know you’re seventeen and you’re almost an adult, and by then you can do anything you want.” She breathes in through her nose and then tilts her head. “But, well—” She grins. “We’d like to adopt you.”

Chapter 10

 

 

Between D’andre talking my face off about Maya, and the seventh graders arguing over who gets to set up their sleeping bag directly in front of the wall-mounted TV, I’m having a hard time keeping my thoughts straight. I keep checking the door for Keanna, since she’s the only person I care to see right now. It’s twenty minutes after she got off work, so maybe she went home to change clothes or something.

D’andre leans against the wall, scrolling through photos of Maya on her Facebook page. He’s been talking for the last ten minutes but I kind of stopped paying attention. He’s my best friend, but he could use a lesson in chilling out when it comes to being obsessed over a girl.

Today was a pretty good day at the track. Training guys who are closer to my age is a lot easier than it was when I had to help train the five and six year-olds. Plus, the little kids only ride on the little track and that is boring as hell. Today we stuck to the main tracks, and I taught a few guys how to fix their form in the turns. Dad also seemed impressed with me, which is great because I’d love to become one of the official trainers one day.

Of course, I also want to turn pro as soon as I’m eighteen, and that will have me traveling all over the country, racing each weekend. To put it lightly, motocross has been my entire life and it will be my entire future. Luckily, I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Dad calls out to get everyone’s attention and then he gives the group a pep talk, talking about how great they were in practice today. Usually Park is here for this part too, but I don’t see him. Dad tells everyone to enjoy dinner and then get their sleeping bags set up.

Tonight’s entertainment is a stack of Metal Mulisha DVDs and everyone is pretty psyched about it. Mom brings in three power strips, asking if that’s enough outlets for everyone’s phone chargers.

Since they have it all under control, I grab a sandwich from the catering platter and join D’andre against the wall.

“Yeah man, so Keanna said she’s cool with a double date,” he says, finally looking up from his phone. “Where should we go?”

“Dinner?” I ask with a shrug. I look back at the doors again. Where is she? Yeah, this makes me a douche, but I’m kind of dying for the guys to see my hot girlfriend. I’ve been hoping she’ll get here before they all settle down and watch the movies.

My phone buzzes.

Keanna:
We need to talk.

Before I can reply, it buzzes again.

Keanna:
now. Like now.

Me:
Come to the Track?

Keanna:
already walking over.

“Hey, I’ll be right back,” I tell D’andre. “I’m going to go get Keanna. Can you fill in for me for a few minutes?”

“Sure thing,” he says, reaching for another sandwich.

I stuff the rest of my sandwich in my mouth and jog out of the building. Things between us are good so I’m not too worried about whatever she wants to talk about. Still, she’s never acted this weird. I find her walking quickly across the grass, her eyes are wide and she’s chewing on her bottom lip. It almost looks like she’s been crying.

“Key?” She walks straight into my arms. I told on tight and kiss the top of her head. “Everything okay?”

She nods, her head pressed against my chest. “Let’s go inside. I need to be sitting when I talk to you.”

In the front office, we sit facing each other on the two barstools behind the front counter. Keanna’s feet twitch and her whole body seems to be bouncing with excitement.

“So what’s going on?” I ask, lifting an eyebrow.

She holds out her hands as if bracing me for whatever she wants to say while she takes in a deep breath. “Park and Becca . . .”

Her eyes sparkle and her cheeks go pink. I am literally on the edge of this barstool waiting to hear what she’ll say next.

“Babe,” I say. “What is it?”

She smiles so wide it reaches her eyes. “They want to adopt me.”

“Whoa.”

At first it’s just words. But then the weight of the situation sinks in. “They want you to be their legal child?”

She nods and leans forward, her foot tapping like crazy. “They said if they legally adopt me then I can get on their health insurance and they’ll be my legal guardians. They can enroll me in school and help pay for college and even train me to take over their half of this business one day.”

“Whoa,” I say again.

She laughs. “Becca said she’s wanted a kid so long it’s driving her crazy. Trust me, it took everything I had not to mention the surrogacy thing, but they said they love having me here and they don’t want me to spend my life without a real family. Park even said he’d love to be called ‘Dad’, can you believe that?”

“So what do you think about all of this?” I ask her.

She’s quiet for a moment but her face stays happy and serene. “Well, at first I’m like yes, obviously. They’re such great people. And if they become my adopted parents then I can stay here and go to school, ya know?”

“You could have done that anyway,” I say. She rolls her eyes.

“But then I’d feel bad about abandoning my mom . . .”

I think it over first but decide to say it anyway. “She abandoned you first.”

Her eyes meet mine and she nods slowly. “That’s why I shouldn’t feel guilty about this, right?”

“I can’t tell you what to think, babe. This has to come from you.”

“I want to do it,” she says while staring at her nails. “I do feel guilty about my mom, but she’s abandoned me and there’s also years of neglect on her record when it comes to parenting. I’m not sure she deserves to have me as her kid anymore. I mean she left me by texting
you
. . .she couldn’t even tell me herself.”

She’s quiet for a minute and then she smiles. “Here I was thinking I was a huge burden to them and then they tell me they love having me around and have started considering me their daughter. It’s kind of awesome.”

I touch her arm and rub my thumb across her skin. “It’s really awesome. Becca loves kids and she’s always wanted one. There’s room for you and the new baby, you know. Their house is huge.”

She nods. “I’ll have a father figure for the first time in my life.” She tosses her harms in the air. “I’ll have
parents
who actually
care
what happens to me.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

She slips off the stool and takes a step toward me. I open my knees to let her move in closer and she wraps her hands around my waist. “I think it is,” she says. “I think it’s a really good thing.” 

Chapter 11

 

 

The Lawson county courthouse is a small building that somehow managed to stay exactly the same as it was in the eighties. With the exception of a slightly newer set of computers (that are still old), everything is ancient. The wood paneled walls smell like a grandparent’s house but there’s a country charm to the place that almost makes you think you’re on vacation somewhere remote and desolate.

The entire process goes quickly. I stand between Becca and Park, whose first name is actually Nolan. I know I knew that but since we only call him by his last name, I totally forgot it. It only trips me up a little bit when the judge calls our names.

He’s an older man, portly and balding with gray hair and a tweed blazer. He reads over the adoption procedure and we all sign paperwork and swear an oath.

When it’s all said and done, his secretary, who looks twice his age but is dressed to impress in a purple pantsuit, steps forward. “Ready to take a picture?”

So we stand there: me, Park, and Becca with Judge Peterson. The dark wood desk is behind us and an American and Texan flag stands on either side. Someone hands me the certificate of adoption and I hold it in front of my chest.

My grin is pretty huge when the camera flash goes off, and I hope it’s a good photo. It’s our first family photo, after all.

The secretary says she’ll email it to us as soon as she gets back to her desk. I look over at Becca as we walk out of the courtroom and she’s a total mess.

“Are you crying?” I ask all lightheartedly, because I’m about to make fun of her. But then she nods and her face wrinkles up and she cries even harder and now I’m fighting tears.

We step into the tiled foyer of the courthouse and Park opens the door for us, leading us out into the beautiful cloudless day.

“I’m so sorry,” Becca says, wiping at her eyes. “This is just very emotional.”

I smile. “Are you going to run back and tell them you changed your mind?”

“Oh no. Never.” She shakes her head furiously and Park chuckles while we walk to his truck.

“Okay, girls,” Park says, checking his watch. “We have a little time to kill before dinner.” He gives me an excited look. “You want to go to the DMV and see what it’ll take to get your license?”

“Oh my god, are you serious?” I stop so abruptly, I run straight into the open truck door.

“Well you’re seventeen. What seventeen-year-old doesn’t want to drive?”

My grin is the size of Texas. “Let’s go to the DMV.”

 

*

 

It took two weeks to get the adoption all set up. That night when my new parents talked to me about it, I had sent my mother a text from Jett’s phone, explaining the situation. I asked her to please let me know how she feels about it. When two days went by without a reply—I was practically glued to Jett’s phone the whole time—I sent her a text from mine. The first time I gave my mother my new phone number. I put it off for a long time because I kept thinking I if I gave her the number and she never used it then it would hurt more than if I purposely never talked to her.

Well these two weeks went by without a single text from the woman who gave birth to me. I didn’t tell Jett this, but I sent her one text a day. And no replies. So maybe it’s harsh on my part, but I am totally at peace with my decision to denounce my mother’s guardianship and become the legal child of Becca and Park.

I spend a lot of time reading the inspirational paintings around the house, and they all tell me the same things I need to hear. That moving on is good, okay, and for the best. It’s time for me to become the person I am capable of being, without having to drag around the weight of my mother’s bad influence.

I can have a future now, a real life. I can make good choices and have solid, loving people who care about me. And it feels really good.

I don’t know how Becca did it all, but she got my birth certificate and my social security card reissued. The paperwork has been done and filed and after we leave the DMV, I’m signed up for driving classes and have a paper version of my identification card. It’s not a real driver’s license yet since I have to pass the class first, but it’s a state issued ID. With a real home address. Still pretty cool.

I stare at the paper in my hands.  I’m sitting in the backseat of Park’s truck while we head home.

Keanna Park

My new adopted parents told me that I didn’t
have
to take their last name. But I wanted to. They’re sacrificing so much for me already and they’ve
welcomed me into their house and their lives
, so the very least I can do is become one of them. A Park.

I smile and my chest feels warm. I am a new person now. I’ve shed the old pain and I’m starting all over. This new girl
can
be Jett’s girlfriend. She can have a normal life and stay in the same house for years at a time. She won’t ever be homeless again.

“Keanna? Did you hear me?”

I look up. We’re pulling into the driveway and Becca is giving me a concerned look from the front seat. In the rear-view mirror, Park glances at me.

“Sorry, I was zoned out. Did you say something?”

She laughs. “I said we should redecorate your room now. Make it more you.”

“Yeah that could be fun, but I like it the way it is, honestly.”

“No can do,” Park says. “You should have
seen
Becca’s room when she was your age. There was paint and canvases and
glitter
and all kinds of girlie crap everywhere.”

“Um, it wasn’t crap. It was
art
,” she says, shoving him in the shoulder.

He shuts off the engine and looks back at me. “It was crap,” he says with a wink. “But it was a teenager’s room, that’s for sure. You keep your room way too clean and tidy.”

I’m not about to tell him that I keep it clean both because it was never really mine until now, and because when you don’t have many things, it’s hard to be dirty.

Becca starts talking about paint colors and bedroom themes while we go inside our house. It feels awesome saying
our
house, so I do. I say it in my head all constantly now. I allow myself to think that this is my home, and my room, and my furniture.

I let Becca throw a bunch of ideas out there, even though I don’t really care how we decorate my new official room. I’m happy just
having
a room. It doesn’t need a theme. As far as I’m concerned, the theme is home.

“Alright girls,” Park says, clapping his hands together. “We have an hour and fifteen minutes . . . is that enough time to get ready or should I change the reservation?”

I lift an eyebrow. “Get ready for what?”

Becca’s eyes crinkle. “Oops, did I forget to tell you . . .” she says all slowly, giving me the side eye. Then she grins really wide. “We’re taking you out to celebrate becoming our kid!”

Park throws an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “I’m very sorry your new mom is the biggest dork on earth, Keanna. I really am.”

She blows a raspberry and flips her hair over her shoulder. “Keanna, dear. I am
so
very sorry that your new dad is a total dork.”

“See?” Park says, looking at his wife like she’s a basket case. “She’s so dorky, she doesn’t even know how to identify a dork.”

“Okay I think I can settle this,” I say. I’m still reeling over the terms ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ but I manage to keep it together. “You’re both dorks,” I say, putting my hands on my hips.

Becca gazes up at Park with this adoring look on her face. “Well, babe, I’m happy to be whatever you are.”

They kiss and heat rushes to my cheeks.  I hope I grow up to be just like them.

“Okay, now we have one hour and ten minutes,” Park says, eyes wide. He looks at me. “Keanna should be fine, but Bec takes no less than a century to get her hair fixed anytime we go somewhere fancy, so she better hurry.”

“I do not,” Becca mutters, swatting at him as she walks by. He ducks it and grins at me.

“Wait, we’re going somewhere fancy?” I ask.

“Of course,” Becca says, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “We’re celebrating! So dress nice.”

“How nice? I don’t really have a lot of stuff,” I say, looking up to the ceiling as I mentally think over my wardrobe.

“Wear that white dress,” Becca says, nodding in approval. “It’ll look great.”

BOOK: Believe in Us (Jett #2)
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