Page 60 of All of You
Mom came into my room while I laid face down sobbing into my pillow and rubbed my back. She told me I didn’t have to have the baby. That everything would be okay and that once the pastor came over and went over my options with me, she’d help me make the right choice.
I sobbed harder. How could she even think that let alone say it?
Mom informed me that seventeen is too young to understand what having a child entails. That I’m not ready and I’m ruining the rest of my life. I don’t care what they say. He and this baby are all that matters and I’m keeping them both.
They sent the pastor to his house first.
“Goodnight Delia,” Gramps voice calls through my bedroom door. A chill ripples down my spine.
“Night,” I call back.
The clock says half past ten. The next page of the journal is blank. I take it as a sign to stop for the night even though I’m dying to blast through the rest of the entries. I tuck the notebook under the bed. It’s an okay place to pause. A lot to take in.
She was in love. I was made in love. I was barely a formed being, yet Mom vehemently stated that she wanted me—loved me.
I honestly don’t know if I’d feel the same way in the same situation. Two things stand out as I turn off my light; Anna knows who my dad is and was the last person to allegedly see my mom and Gramps said unforgivable things to my mom.
Pulling out my own notebook I begin to write.
I am gold and glitter and sparkles and fun and passion. I want to leave a heart-shaped mark on the world, create smiles and laughs and memories. But lately, I’m cranky. What is wrong with me? Where is my mothertrucking joy? Why is it intrinsically tied to my mother? Why would she leave me here with her old journals and music? I feel like I’m following a breadcrumb trail to nowhere.
There’s a small anger in my belly and slight resentment and a dollop of fear. I’m moody, tearful, and feeling directionless.
***
Lyra and Miles were basically foaming at the mouth when I updated them on the new journal entries, I’d read last night. I had a brief feeling of joy as I filled them in.
Two friends who were happy and excited to help me figure out where I came from and genuinely cared about me. It wasn’t something I was used to having but it felt really good.
I also may have spilled the beans about Langdon ravishing me Sunday night and that Danny had asked me on a date, to which I got wide eyes and a lot of requests for more details.
Lyra invited us both to her house so we could talk more but I was scheduled to work to which she said, fine, I’ll pick you both up at six at RootBound and we’ll do dinner instead. Everyone agreed—it was a date. I seem to have fallen into quite the nice little social life here.
“What was up with you today?” Langdon asks. It snaps me from my thoughts.
I crane my neck to see him over a giant-leafed plant. “What?”
“You kept staring at me but like, in a weird way,” he says headed for me.
He’s not wrong. Every time I saw him today I kept staring wondering what his mom knows. How I can get her to talk to me. WhatLangdonmight know.
“I was definitely not being weird. You’re imagining stuff.”
He puts a hand on my shoulder. “You okay?” He looks genuinely concerned.
Sighing, I remove his hand from me and nod. “Fine. Just dandy. Why?”
A smirk quirks his mouth up. “If you’re not—I’m good at distracting.”
My eyes bug out for a second. He has some audacity. “Whotold you that?”
He shrugs. “Just a gut feeling,” he says smugly.
He is a total flirt. And I’m totally here for it. Only four more days until Sunday. Maybe we can sneak away again. Or maybe I’ll have to throw another tantrum and get sent to my room.
“You should have your gut checked.” I push past him, on to the next plant.
He looks wounded. “I see. So you and Danny?”
