"You implied it," I argue.

"No, you inferred. Cole and Ree, Bailey and I-we have nothing to do with you and Haden. Whatever you two decide to do for you is up to you. It just didn't work for us. And that's fine."

"Have you talked to her since the breakup?"

"We talked for a few minutes last night, since we're 'friends,' but it was weird," he answers, but doesn't elaborate. "So have you figured out our route yet?" he asks, essentially changing the subject.

I pull out my phone and find the list of places everyone chose for the trip. "We have seven days, right?" I confirm to make sure we won't lose time on either end of the trip.

"Yeah. I have to leave for New York the day after we get home, so there's not much room for changing things up."

"Well, I'd like to leave early so we can hit up Roswell on the first night. That means we can reach California by the end of the next day. Right?"

"Whose idea was Roswell, anyway?" he complains.

"Braxton's, of course," I laugh.

"I figured that had to be Cole's-wait, where did he choose?"

"Tombstone," I smile.

He shakes his head and looks around to see what else he needs to pack before crossing his arms over his chest and turning his eyes back to me. With this head c.o.c.ked to the side and the look of concern, he has me worried.

"Are you planning on checking to see if your birth mom is still in California?"

"Actually," I pause, but he finishes for me.

"You stalked her, didn't you?" he teases.

I shake my head, and lie across his bed and stare at the ceiling. In a week, I'll be face to face with the mom I didn't know existed. In a week, my entire world could change and I'm not sure that's a good thing. Sensing the shift in my mood, he stops packing, lies opposite me, and mimics my posture.

"I'm not sure I should do this," I say aloud.

"You don't have to do anything. If you decide last minute that you don't want to go through with it, we'll be there with you. And if you decide that you do, we'll be there. But this is your choice-there is no right or wrong answer."

"I think my parents are hurt that I want to find her."

"Did they say that?"

"They didn't have to," I whisper. "How can they not be hurt?"

"Worried, maybe. Sad? I don't know, that doesn't really seem to be their style. They want you to be happy, and if seeing this woman makes you happy, then I'm sure they want that for you."

"I know, you're right. Maybe I'm just using this as my excuse to back out."

He pats my hand, sits up so he can look down at me, and shrugs. "Like I said, no right or wrong answer. You'll know when the time's right."

"Jeez, first in your cla.s.s and suddenly you think you know everything," I laugh.

"I do know everything," he boasts in his loud, booming voice.

"Okay, so back to the trip." I sit up and grab my phone again. "I figure we can hit LA on the third day and White Sands on the way back home."

"Whatever you say, navigator," he looks at his watch and points outside. "Lai, don't you have somewhere to go?"

"I'm late. I love you, Joey. Call you later," I say in a rush as I scramble to my feet so I can get home.

"I'll be driving tonight," I say to Haden as we leave my house.

"My car?" he asks with a tinge of apprehension.

"I was going to drive my new, or rather, my parent's old car that they gave me, but if you want me to drive yours, I'm game," I say quickly.

"They gave you the car?"

"Yeah," I squeal. "Dad says I need something for school, so it's mine."

"I guess that's a pa.s.s on driving my car," he states as he walks toward the gray four-door in the driveway.

"Don't pretend for a second you were going to willingly let me drive your precious car," I tease. "Besides, I know where we're going and you don't."

"Do I get a hint?"

He climbs into the pa.s.senger side and I start the engine as excitement and nerves fill me. I hope he likes what I have planned.

"I should make you wear a blindfold," I tease, remembering the carnival date.

He relaxes into the seat and adjusts the radio to music he likes before taking my hand in his. I want to laugh because he has no idea where we're going, or that it will take less than ten minutes to get there. When I turn down Main I notice that he sits up a little taller, probably trying to figure it out.

"We're here," I announce when I throw the car into park on the side of the street.

"Why are we at the gallery?" Haden's brow furrows in confusion.

"I talked to Stefon and asked him if we could have the place for the night. I want you to show me how to draw."

"That's not really something I can teach in one night," he answers, reaching for my hand.

"Humor me." I stand in front of him and exaggeratedly flutter my eyelashes.

We walk inside and everything looks empty in the lobby, except for the two easels that are next to each other. Stefon told me that Haden would be uncomfortable working in front of me, but he also said it would be good for him to try.

"What are we going to draw?" he asks, looking around the room.

I point to the decorative red velvet couch against the wall and laugh. "Can we start with something easy?" I ask.

I take a seat in front of the large sketchpad and wait for Haden to give me instruction about how to start. The extent of my ability is resigned to stick figures, so anything above that is an improvement.

He begins talking and tells me to study the piece of furniture-things that strike me about it. I keep my eyes trained while he talks, but make no move to touch the pencil or anything else. He's in his element, talking about things that he loves, and I mentally pat myself on the back for choosing something like this for our date.

"When you're ready, pick up the pencil and decide where you want to start-but draw lightly."

I do as he says and start with the arm farthest from me. Haden makes all of this look and sound so easy; it's anything but. He stands behind me and I can feel his eyes watching every movement and stroke of the lead. Every once in a while, his hand takes mine as he demonstrates a technique in more detail, and the action sends a shiver down my arm.

Painfully and carefully, I do my best to draw the couch as I see it, but the completed drawing is a far cry from the original. I step back and look at the drawing and laugh at the distortion of the couch-one arm is skinny and the other is too plump, while the cushion is lumpy. The whole thing looks terrible, but it was fun.

"You have to do yours now." I point to his blank canvas.

"I'm not drawing a couch," he mocks. "Go sit down, I'll draw you."

"It's not getting all t.i.tanic up in here," I cross my arms over my chest and laugh.

He takes my hand and leads me to the couch to sit, and I feel completely exposed. It's not easy to get comfortable when you know someone is watching you, and less so when that someone says he's going to draw you.

"Haven't you drawn enough pictures of me?" I've only seen the ones at the exhibit. If there are more, I don't know. I'm merely trying to get out of this awkward situation.

With the easel in hand, Haden walks over and sets it down closer to the couch, and I see his arm moving over the canvas.

"Just relax," he smiles.

I release a loud breath and lay my hands across the arm and rest my chin over them. His eyes move from me to the canvas and I try to remain still, but it's hard.

"Are you ready for the trip?" I ask, because I'm looking for any distraction.

"Pretty much. Mom seems to be doing better since she started her meetings, so if I leave for a few days, she should be fine," he says.

"I'm glad you two talked."

"I knew she'd be embarra.s.sed after prom, but I didn't think it would be what finally got her straight," he says. His eyes are focused on the drawing, but he's still here with me. I move to the far side and lean my head against one of the pillows, extending my legs to make myself comfortable.

"What about you? Are you going to be okay leaving her for school?"

"My mom's been through a lot. I know that it's been hard for her since my dad died, but she's tough. And I can't put my life on hold and stick around just to make sure she doesn't start drinking again." He looks sad to say the words aloud, and I know he hasn't said it before.

"She's proud of you, you know?" I remind him. "She wants you to be happy."

"I know," he admits. "And as long as I have my art-and you-I am happy."

I let out a yawn while we continue to talk about the upcoming trip, Bailey and Joey's breakup, and everything in between. Somewhere along the way, I drift to sleep, but I'm not sure for how long because Haden kneeling on the floor next to the couch awakens me.

"C'mon, sleepy girl, let's go," he says, brushing my hair out of my face.

I lift my head up from the seat and wonder how I ended up face down on my stomach. I'm disoriented, but the reality of where I am hits me and I sit up, embarra.s.sed that I dozed off.

"How long did I sleep?" I ask, wiping away a small spot of drool from the side of my mouth.

Haden laughs and pulls me to my feet. "Thirty minutes or so. I lost count," he smiles and kisses the tip of my nose, making me blush. "You ready?"

"I want to see your drawing." I walk over to the easel and see the image of me with my arms wrapped around his neck in a tight embrace. His arms are at my waist, holding me to him, but his face isn't visible. My eyes are closed and there's sadness to the portrait.

"Can I have it?" I ask so quietly that I'm not sure he can hear me.

"As long as I can have you," he answers just as softly before he kisses me.

Chapter 31 ~ Finding Aliens.

My alarm sounds and I quickly shut it off because I've barely slept at all. I packed my bags two days ago, but then I realized that I packed too much and redid it last night. By the time I climbed into bed, my brain was on high alert and sleep was hard to find.

The antic.i.p.ation of the trip leaves me conflicted on how I feel about the whole thing. After dinner, I talked through everything with my mom, but tried to hide my fears from her. I love how supportive she's trying to be, but I know this can't be easy for her. When she and Dad told me about Andie, I felt hurt, angry, and betrayed, but over the last few months I've moved on and embraced all of it. When I think of it, it's really a beautiful story how I came to them, and I've never felt anything but loved unconditionally.

Still, I can't help but wonder.

I want to know if I got my blue-green eyes from Andie. Do we share any quirky traits? Did she finish school after she gave birth to me? What about my biological father-is he around?

So many questions have circulated in my head, and as much as I wish I didn't care, the truth is I do. And a part of me feels selfish for my need to find her, because it's not meant to hurt Mom and Dad.

"You're up?" Mom asks as she walks into my room.

"Barely," I say. I turn on the water and brush my teeth before tucking all my toiletries into my travel bag and facing her.

"Are you ready?" She hugs herself and asks the question that has more than one meaning.

Am I ready for the trip?

Am I ready for what might happen when I meet Andie?

"As ready as I can be before the sun comes up," I attempt a smile.

I grab my heaviest bag and she carries the others so we can bring everything down. She lags behind inside the house while I carry my things to the car waiting outside.

Since Cole is the only one who has a car large enough to fit all five of us comfortably, we talked him into driving. He picked up Braxton and Haden on the way over, and Joey was supposed to be here already.

"Where's Joey?" Braxton asks of anyone who might know the answer.

"Probably sleeping," Cole growls. "That's what I should be doing at five on a Sat.u.r.day morning, but someone wants to leave early."

"We don't have to go to Tombstone," I snap at him, though I'm not really mad. It's early and we are all tired.

"I'm driving, so yeah-we do," he says with a yawn. "Text him to make sure he's up."