Chasing Abby(40)

For eighteen years, I’ve known one part of me. The part that was raised by Brian and Lynette Jensen. But now, seeing how similar I am to my biological parents, I understand why there was a huge part of me that always felt disconnected. As if I would never be able to be myself around my parents. That doing the things that made me happy was an affront to them. Like pursuing music. I’m a real-life experiment in nature versus nurture. And I don’t know which part of me is larger, but I think I owe it to myself to find out before I go to NC State to major in business.
“Go ahead. Tell me I’m making a mistake.”
Caleb smiles and shakes his head. “Not at all what I was thinking. I was actually just thinking that I hope they have less bedrooms in the beach house so we’re forced to sleep in the same room.”
I roll my eyes. “Go to your room. I have to try to get some sleep.”
“Did you take your Lasix?”
“I took all my meds. Now go, before they think we’re doing something in here.”
He chuckles as he leans in to kiss my forehead. “Goodnight, sunshine.”



WAKING UP IN SOMEONE else’s bed two nights in a row is not something I’m used to. So when I open my eyes and realize that, for the second time in a row, I slept peacefully through the night, it feels meaningful. Why should I feel comfortable sleeping in a home with a bunch of people who are essentially strangers?
The sunlight spilling through the window makes all the white furnishings and linens appear as if they’re glowing from within. Like I woke up in heaven. I throw off the covers and sit up slowly so I don’t get lightheaded. I don’t even notice I’m doing it anymore, but it took me about three years to get used to getting out of bed slowly.
I’ve always been an early riser, partially because my heart condition makes me tired, so I rarely stay up late unless I’m with Caleb or my friends. But I also like waking up early to see the sunrise. Here in North Carolina, we don’t get dazzling sunsets like they do on the West Coast. But we have some of the most gorgeous sunrises. A symphony of colors: Magenta transitions into a vibrant coral then becomes a soft tangerine bridge, leading to a finale in various shades of gold.
That’s it. That’s why I feel so comfortable here. Because the Knight family understands how music makes everything more beautiful.
The Knight family. My stomach vaults at these three words and I begin to have delusional thoughts of Chris Knight using his clout to get me a contract with his label. It’s stupid and dangerous to think things like that. That kind of craziness could cloud my judgment. Make me do things I wouldn’t normally do. Like going to stay at a beach house a hundred miles away from my parents.
But Chris and Claire are my parents, too.
Oh, God. This is hopeless. I feel like Chris’s famous roast chicken, like I’m being carved into pieces: one piece for my mom and dad, one for the Knights, one for Caleb and my friends. How about me? Which piece of me do I get to keep?
The piece that has to go to college for four years to study a subject I have little interest in.
On this depressing note, I rise from the bed determined to fill this summer with new experiences. I want to tread into the salty ocean. I want to build a sandcastle with Ryder. I want to blast the music in the ’Cuda while taking Junior for a joyride.
I haven’t decided yet what I want to do with Jimi. Something tells me she feels a bit threatened by my presence, but I can’t see why. She has everything I’ve never had. She probably has tons of friends. She’s younger than me but she’s taller, so she obviously doesn’t have a heart condition. And, by the looks of it, she has every luxury she could possibly want. I guess her behavior says less about the things she has and more about the things she’s afraid of losing.