And then there, coming toward him, was Bethany. He couldn’t believe it, but they were the only two people in the whole hallway—they were essentially by themselves.
It felt like fate. Every other time he’d seen her, they’d both been surrounded by a ton of people. Well, mainly she was. Bethany had been in Bridgeport since kindergarten and seemed to know everyone at the school.
When she saw him, her steps slowed. She lifted a hand and brushed a chunk of hair behind her ear. “Hi, Jeremy.”
“Hey, Bethany.” He stopped right in front of her. Knew he needed to say something smart sounding—or at least something that made sense—but all he seemed to be able to do was stare at her.
As the seconds passed, she looked up at him expectantly, obviously waiting for him to say something. A line of worry formed on her brow when he didn’t say another word. “Um. Well, I’ll see ya.”
Telling himself to Get. A. Grip. He called out, “Hey, wait.”
She turned back to him. “Yes?”
“Listen, sorry.” He paused, then realized that he had nothing to lose by telling her the truth. “The truth is that I just came from seeing my social worker and I didn’t know how to tell you that. I was embarrassed.” And that was the truth. He was embarrassed that his life was so different than hers. But, what could he do? He hadn’t asked for this messed up life but it was his.
“How come you have a social worker?” Her eyes widened right before she slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my gosh, forget I asked you that. Sorry.”
“No, I don’t mind if you ask. I mean, it’s not a secret.” He took a breath and decided that he didn’t mind telling her the truth, but he sure didn’t want to tell her all his ugly during their first real conversation.
He shrugged. “I don’t have any parents.” He briefly considered making things sound better than they were, but decided it would all come back to haunt him if he did. “I never knew my dad and my mother was shot a couple years ago.”
Her green eyes widened. “Oh my gosh!”
“Anyway, um, after my mom, uh, died, I was put into foster care. Gunnar, the guy I live with? Well, he’s my foster dad.”
“Oh. I didn’t know about that. Does anyone know?”
“Not really. I don’t like to talk about it much. But, um, it’s not a secret or anything. I don’t mind talking about it—though we don’t have to.” When she kept staring, he felt like slapping himself. Why had he gone and shared so much anyway? “Sorry I brought it up. I just wanted to tell you the truth. That’s all.”
She stared at him for a few seconds, obviously processing what he said. “What does that mean? Are you going to have to move away?”
“No. At least, I don’t think so anymore. Gunnar wants to adopt me.” Jeez. How did he go from not wanting to tell her anything to word vomit?
“That’s great. I mean, I think it is?”
“It is. He’s a good guy.” He really needed to stop. Like, right away. “What are you doing out in the hall?”
“Me. Oh.” She grinned. “Nothing that exciting. I had to go to the bathroom.”
Awkward. “Sorry.” Boy, he knew he was blushing. “I’ll see you.” But just as he was about to turn away, Bethany called out to him again.
“Hey, Jeremy?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you told me about your meeting.”
She was? Thinking that there could only be one reason why, he murmured, “I guess you think something’s wrong with me, huh?” Even though he knew he sounded like a loser, Jeremy figured he might as well just put it out there. After all, if she did think he was pathetic or something, he wouldn’t be surprised. Half the time he thought something was wrong with him too.
But instead of nodding her head, she said, “No, I think you’re really strong.”
“Strong?”
“Yeah. I mean, a lot of people go through bad stuff but they wear it on their heart.” Those green eyes he kept thinking about clouded. “It’s always the first thing they tell you. But not you.” She smiled at him before turning away and rushing down the hall.
He couldn’t believe it. He’d shared the worst thing about himself, and she hadn’t made fun of him or acted weird.
Actually, Bethany acted as if his past was something to be proud of. He almost started smiling too as he entered his world history class.
“You’re late, Jeremy,” Mrs. Cook announced from the front of the room.
He handed her the pass. “Sorry. I had a meeting in the office.”
After scanning the note, she nodded. “Get the notes from someone.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Though a couple of the kids snickered, Mrs. Cook looked a little happier with him.
Right now, he didn’t care about either his teacher’s approval or the fact that most kids in Bridgeport hadn’t been raised to stick ma’am on the end on practically every sentence.
Bethany had made him feel like he wasn’t as weird as he constantly felt. That was huge.
CHAPTER 8
“And she brought forth her firstborn son,
and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and
laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.”
—LUKE 2:7
“What took you so long?” Karyn asked when Bethany slid into her seat.
“What do you mean?”
Karyn tossed back a chunk of her dark auburn hair. “Ha, ha. Don’t look so innocent. You were gone for a while. You also might as well tell me why you look so pleased with yourself.”
“Stop. I look normal.”
“Ah, no. You look like you’re sunbathing at the pool instead of sitting in the middle of Spanish in December.”
Bethany would usually tell her best friend to shut up, but she knew Karyn was telling the truth. After double-checking that Mr. Hernandez was still talking with two kids at his desk, Bethany moved an inch closer. “As a matter of fact, something did happen.” She was so pleased, she couldn’t help but sound as smug as she felt. “I finally talked to him.”
“To who?”
Two girls in the row in front of them turned around and giggled.
Bethany gave them a pointed look until they turned back around. “Keep your voice down,” she hissed. “And you know who I’m talking about. Jeremy Widmer.”