“What are you talking about?” Lauren shouted.
“Did you ever have to look at the pictures on that staircase and think, Do they hate me for ruining their perfect family? Am I the reason for all of this? Me and my freak existence? Let me guess, the answer to all of that is no. So don’t try to make me feel bad for trying to find my space in this world, okay? Because you’ve never had to worry about yours!”
Now Lauren was crying in that terrible way she always did, but Maya was already turning on her heel and running upstairs.
She couldn’t get far enough away, though. Not from herself. There weren’t enough stairs in the world for that.
Maya couldn’t sleep that night.
All she kept seeing when she closed her eyes was Grace’s face when Adam called her a slut, Joaquin’s face as he described Natalie falling to the floor, Lauren’s face when Maya had mentioned the pictures on the staircase. All of them made her stomach feel empty, like it was a pit that could never be filled, no matter how many good thoughts she had to replace the bad ones.
At two o’clock in the morning, she gave up and went downstairs.
Lauren was there, angrily twisting Oreos open and scraping out the cream filling into a bowl. Maya stopped when she saw her, about to turn around, but Lauren saw her, too.
For a few seconds, neither of them moved.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Lauren finally said.
“Me either,” Maya replied. She hadn’t realized how tired Lauren had looked lately, but she guessed that now would be a bad time to bring that fact up. “I’ll leave you alone.”
“I’m just going to throw this cream out,” Lauren said. “You might as well eat it.”
Maya paused, then turned back around and sat down at the kitchen island, across from Lauren. “I mean, you’re the weirdo who won’t eat chocolate,” Lauren added, scraping another cookie into the bowl.
“You’re the weirdo who eats chocolate,” Maya said grumpily. It was two o’clock in the morning, after all. “It tastes like sweet dirt.”
Lauren just scoffed and pushed the bowl toward her. They sat across from each other for a full minute in silence before Lauren finally broke it.
“Do you really hate those pictures on the stairs?”
“I don’t hate them,” Maya said. “I just hate that it’s so obvious that I don’t look like you.”
“Do you hate me because I look like Mom and Dad and you don’t?”
“Why would I hate you for that? It’s not your fault. You didn’t ask to be born.”
“You know they would never pick one of us and not the other, right?” Even though she was sitting directly across from Maya, Lauren’s voice sounded very far away. “It’s not a competition, My. They love us both.”
Maya sighed. All she wanted to do was eat her cream filling in peace. “I’m not upset I’m adopted. I love Mom and Dad and all of that, but sometimes, I just have questions that only strangers can answer.”
“Like Grace and Joaquin?”
Maya shrugged. “I feel like they understand what I mean when I say things like that.”
Lauren’s eyes filled with tears.
“Oh, Laur,” Maya sighed. “Seriously? Why are you crying?”
Lauren wiped at her eyes, but that didn’t help much. “Because you loved Claire so much and then you just pushed her away as soon as you had one little fight—”
“It wasn’t little.”
“—and now you have these other siblings and this other sister and Mom’s gone and it’s just . . . I don’t want to lose you, too! You’re my big sister. I don’t care where you came from and I don’t care what you look like. You’re mine, you know? I don’t have anyone else except you.”
“Laur,” Maya said quietly, “you’re not going to lose me as your sister.”
“You wouldn’t even talk to me for a week!” Lauren sobbed. “You wouldn’t even look at me. It was like what you did to Claire all over again!”
Maya paused, then hopped off her bar stool and put her arm around her sister’s shoulders. “I didn’t . . . I’m not . . . fuck, okay. I’m not leaving our family, okay? I’m not,” she said when Lauren just cried harder. “I don’t want to leave. But I like getting to know Grace and Joaquin. I’m not sure if I even want to meet my bio mom or not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”
“It’d be easier to believe you if you’d stop ignoring me,” Lauren sniffled.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I was just mad that you texted Claire. It felt like—”
“Like I broke the rules. I know. Will you just promise to tell me if you go looking for your bio mom?”
“Absolutely.”
“And will you stop ignoring me?”
“Will you stop texting my ex-girlfriend information about my personal life?”
“That was one time! But yes.”
“Okay.”
“I love you,” Lauren whispered. “Even when you act like a brat sometimes.”
“And I love you, even when you call me a brat.”
It wasn’t the best as far as apologies go, but at two in the morning, with the world spinning faster than either of them could control, it felt like it could be the start of just enough.
JOAQUIN
Joaquin’s weekend was not off to the best of starts.
On Friday, just as he was about to leave school and head home, the guidance counselor poked her head out of her office. “Joaquin?” she said. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Joaquin glanced around just to make sure that there wasn’t another Joaquin standing behind him. He’d had no idea that the guidance counselor even knew who he was. She normally spent her time with the kids who were applying and going to colleges. Joaquin had watched the flurry of college applications from afar, everyone getting ready to leave home for the next phase of their lives.
He thought it was ironic that everyone was trying so hard to leave home, when all he wanted to do was stay in one.
“I saw this,” the guidance counselor said to him when he was finally in her office, ignoring all the inspirational posters that told Joaquin that he could do it! “And of course, I thought of you. I thought you might be able to use it!” She smiled at him.
Joaquin glanced down at the paper she handed him. It was printed out from the internet, and the date above said that the article was written almost five years earlier. “Tips for Phasing Out of Foster Care” it said in bold letters at the top, and then below, “What You Need to Know for a Successful Adulthood . . . and Beyond!” There was a picture of a rocket next to the headline.
“You thought of me,” Joaquin said, trying to keep from laughing or crying or whatever that reaction was that was bubbling up in his chest, pressing down on his lungs.
“I did,” she said.