Within These Walls

Chapter 11

"Do you think our birth year is important?" Carson asks back at our table.

Willow breaks off a piece of untoasted bread. "Here you go, Carson. I think so. I think the fact that we're from the East Coast is important, too. What I don't think is that they just picked eighty-nine teenagers at random."

She holds out a piece to me. "I'm fine," I say. No reason for all of us to suffer. "If we weren't randomly selected, what else do we have in common? Why us out of millions of kids? It has to be more than age and location."

Carson stuffs the bread into his mouth and shrugs, mirroring Willow's clueless expression. I sigh under my breath. We've already been down this road and it looks like another trip won't get us anywhere.

"Have either of your families ever lived in Maryland?" Willow asks.

"Nope," Carson answers. "You'd be hard pressed to get my family out of Georgia as a matter of fact. We've got roots that run deeper than trees in a rainforest."

"What about you, April?"

I shake my head. I don't know much about my mom's life before I was born. For all I know, she might've grown up in Maryland and then moved to Harrisburg later in her life. She's never shared much with me about her past life—or her present one for that matter.

My stomach knots itself. Thinking of her is multiplying my misery, so I shove her back into her hole. "What's your family life like?" I ask Willow.

"Normal, I guess. We live in a nice house in a nice neighborhood in Hagerstown. My mom makes blueberry pancakes every weekend and goes to every baseball game and dance recital."

"You have siblings?"

"Yeah. Four of them, all younger."

"And your dad?" I ask.

"My dad's a cop—you know, one of those big cop type who's gained too many inches on his waistline because he can't give up coffee and donuts." She smiles. "He and my mom are still insanely in love after all these years."

She must miss them like crazy. "Sounds like you've had it good."

"I did. I really lucked out, ending up with them."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"They're not my biological parents. My siblings and I are all adopted. My mom and dad didn't let a little thing like infertility get in the way of their dream of having a big family."

I stare at the group of kids at the table in front of me. Someone snuck a board game out of one of the blocks, and those who aren't playing are spectating from the sidelines.

"Marcus was adopted, too, I think," I say.

Carson sits up straighter. "You think that's something? A clue?"

"What's a clue?"

A hand settles on my shoulders. I jump a foot in the air, slamming my thigh against the underside of the table. Not even the sight of Alec's surprised face when I crane my neck around calms me down.

"Whoa, it's just me," he says, his hands suspended midair. "You okay?"

Everyone is staring at me. A red-hot blush engulfs my face. They're looking at me like I'm a freak, and I feel every bit like one. Marcus asked the other night which girl I am, the one who's able to keep a lid on her emotions or the one who loses it over the smallest things. He had every reason for asking. Even I don't know.

"I'm fine."

Alec sits down at the table, giving a nod to the kids sitting nearby. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to upset you like that." A wry smile crosses his face. "That'll teach me to keep my hands to myself."