She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not(13)

I nod. When we pull into the driveway, I see April’s car and feel a rush of panic. My last hope was that she wouldn’t be here, and I could try and appease Gage with just meeting Gia and the kids. Now, though—there isn’t really anything else to do except try and prepare him.

When he parks and turns off the truck, I put my hand on his arm to keep him from getting out right away.

He raises a brow. “You okay, Kenny?”

I nod, except I’m anything but. I know it’s weak, and probably not that big of a deal, but Cam is the only person who knows my whole history. This school—for three years it’s been a safe place, a place of anonymity where no one could hurt me because they didn’t know me. Without warning, Gage Christensen is here, about to become one of the more trusted people in my life.

“You should know that my family… we’re different. We’re not conventional, not in the sense that you and your family are.”

He laughs at this, pushing his arm back until it’s no longer me holding his arm, but his hand holding mine. “Kenny, my family is anything but conventional.” And then he breaks past my first defense. “Besides, I like you, and everything about you is unconventional. So, stop worrying and let’s get inside.”

I blow out a breath and nod, jumping out of my side. I don’t make it down before he’s there, taking my book bag like he does whenever we’re together, swinging it over his own shoulder and slamming my door shut.

We enter through the front door, because the garage is closed. The minute I open it, noise bursts out, and the scent of cooking food floods over us. I motion to Gage for my backpack, hanging it on the hook near the door, next to the other four.

“Impressive. There are only three of us, and my mom threatens to throw away Joss’s and my stuff daily since we can’t manage to hang it up.”

“April… she’s an ER nurse. She makes sure we run efficiently in the morning, so we can all get where we need to be.”

He quirks his brow at me. “That your mom?”

I wipe my hands on my jeans. “Foster parent,” I say. His eyes get wide, but I’m saved from looking at him for too long when the boys bullet out of the kitchen and into the living room, screaming at the top of their lungs. When they spot us, they pause long enough to eye Gage.

“Who’s he?”

This from Brandon, the oldest. Rylon mimics him almost immediately. Before I can turn to introduce him, Gage steps forward and holds out his hand to both boys. “Gage Christensen. You must be Brandon and Rylon.”

Both boys shake his hand—cheeks pink with pleasure. “Are you Kennedy’s boyfriend?”

My face flames, and I whisper-yell Brandon’s name. Gage just throws his arm around my shoulders with a laugh. “Life-partner, actually. But it’s pretty much the same thing.”

April chooses this moment to walk in from the kitchen, Macy on her hip. Her eyes latch onto us and she pauses, lifting her brow. Macy wiggles down and skips over, hugging my legs. I use the excuse to duck out of Gage’s embrace and pick her up.

“Gage this is Macy, and that’s April. April, this is Gage Christensen.”

“He’s her love partner,” Rylon says.

“Life,” I correct when Gage laughs. “Life partner, and it’s for a school project. Gage is just here to look at some pictures and such.”

“Nice to meet you, Gage. You’re welcome to stay for dinner.”

I open my mouth to protest, overwhelmed by Gage’s presence in the doorway, let alone at the dinner table, but Gage beats me to it. “Thanks, but I promised my mom I would be home. I was hoping Kennedy could come to dinner with my family on Friday, if that’s all right with you.”

April nods. Then, she turns to the boys. “You go set the table.”

Their groans fill the room. “But it’s Kennedy’s night.”

One look from April has them shuffling off. “What kind of pictures do you need?”

I set Macy down when she wiggles. “This week is about our childhood, so… anything to help show where I grew up.”

April is silent a moment, searching my face, and then she nods. “Your book is in the office. Why don’t you take Gage in there? You guys can talk more privately.”

I nod. Gage holds out his hand again. “It was nice to meet you, April.”

“You as well, Gage.”

He follows me, his hands tucked into his pockets. My shoulders are tense, and there’s a cramping in my stomach. When we get to the office, I step inside first, letting Gage through and then closing the French doors behind him.

It’s not a large space, just enough for a desk, a futon, and a small television on top of a half book case where all of our important things sit, like the books April has made for each of us.

I go and get mine, settling on the futon next to Gage.

He’s pretty quiet, especially for Gage, and I wonder if it’s because he doesn’t know how to talk to me anymore.

I open the album. It starts with the school photo that was taken my eighth grade year, the year I lived in a group facility until April and Brad adopted me at the end.

“I grew up in Oxnard, and places near there. It was just my mom and me, and she wasn’t what you’d call a natural parent.” He stays quiet, staring at the picture of me from when I was thirteen—big eyes, lots of hair, thin, angular face, and no smile. I was sad—even I can see it.