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Before: Because I Lo


Ashley

Nick was just staring down at the folder. His eyes were unreadable. I felt like I was going to explode, my insides were wound so tight it felt like I was in a few knots or something. I licked my lips nervously, staring up at him. "Nick," I practically whined his name.

He looked up at me. "The names are here," he said.

I wanted to strangle the information out of him. "Tell me," I begged, my voice breathy and deep in my throat, "Say their names."

Nick looked back down at the folder, then back up at me. Our eyes met, and I watched the movement of his lips like it was in slow motion. "Henry and Monica Jackson."

"Henry and Monica," I said, trying the names on for size. "Henry and Monica. My dad, Henry, and my mom, Monica." I felt sick. My hands were shaking. I felt tears in my eyes. I couldn't believe this moment was happening, that I knew, that they were real people, that they existed somewhere out there in the world -- My happiness paused. "Henry and Monica," I said quietly, "The people who didn't want me."

My heart sank clear to the floor.

Nick tossed the folder onto the table, pulled out the chair and put me into it gently, kneeling down in front of me. He put his hands on each of my knees and stared up into my face as I started to cry. I felt foolish, because really it was stupid. It wasn't new news to me that my parents had gotten rid of me, but this was the first time they had identities. Names.

"Hey," Nick said. He rubbed my knee, "Hey..." Tears were hot on my face. He reached up and swiped away one of the tears with his thumb, "Ashley," he said quietly. "Hey.."

"I can't," I cried, "I can't help it."

"Whatsa matter, tell me."

"They don't love me," I cried.

"Their loss," Nick answered.

"No it isn't though, they got to go on and do whatever they do and I had to be bounced around all lost and pathetic and alone for so many years and, do they even care? Do they even know if I'm alive still?" I couldn't stop my mind from rolling through questions. Now that I was going, I couldn't find the stop button.

"They miss out getting to know the best person in the world, Ashley," Nick said, "Their loss is never getting to know you." He shook his head, "And shit, girl, thats a really horrible existence to have to live through, not knowing you."

"How would you know, you know me," I hiccuped.

Nick shrugged, "Because I can't imagine it. Remember that time we went to my mom's for Christmas and I told you that you weren't allowed to make a list of stuff I had to do if you died because you weren't allowed to die? I meant what I said -- I can't picture the world without you, Ashley. Better yet, I don't want to picture it without you."

"Really?" I asked.

Nick nodded.

"Why not?"

"Because," Nick said, "I lo-------"




Nick

"Because, I lo--"

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt.

Ashley looked away, "Phone... phone.. where is it? Hold that thought, Nick." She jumped up and started looking for her phone.

"---ve you," I finished with a sigh.

Ashley didn't hear me, though. She'd found her phone on the table next to her keys and had answered it with a boisterous, "Heyyyy sweetie!" She was pacing as she held the phone close to her ear. "I have something insane to show you when you get home..." she said.

I stood up and walked over to the table and stared down at the folder. I picked it up and started flipping through it, half listening as she talked to Chris.

Chris.

I looked up and waved my hands, mouthing don't tell him I'm here at her, but she didn't get it because the next thing she said was, "Yeah, sure that sounds good. Bring two. Nick's here." She covered the mouth piece, "Are you hungry?" she asked. "Chris is getting pizza."

Well. At least Peyton lived in the same building, I thought. I'd make up some bullshit thing about her changing her mind or ...something. I didn't know what.

"Nick? Pizza?"

I nodded.

"Yeah, he's hungry," she said into the phone. She paused, then, to me, "Toppings?"

"Whatever," I shrugged.

After transcribing and talking about toppings for a few minutes, Ashley hung up the phone a few minutes later, my mind was still reeling over ideas for Chris, and she asked, "What were you about to say before that rang?"

I waved my hand, "No big deal," I answered. "Nothing really."

"You sure?" Ashley looked concerned.

"Yeah, it's not important," I replied.

Ashley made a face, but she let it go. She pointed at the folder. "Does it say anything else about them?" she asked. She inched closer to me, looking over my shoulder.

I flipped the pages.

Everything was in here, in some sort of crazy reverse order. The paperwork releasing her from the home's care. Grades from school. Paperwork for caregivers, paperwork for health records, a scan of her passport, immunization records, more grades from school. Several drawings and coloring pages from young school. More health records. More immunizations. Paperwork placing her into the home's care. And at the very bottom, a police report.

My eyes scanned the words, and got less than halfway through before I slammed the folder shut. But it was too late. Ashley had already seen it.