Most of my life, I'd denied my heritage. I wanted to say it was because I didn't care, but that was the furthest thing from the truth. The truth was that I did care, more than I wanted to. But I buried the side of me that I didn't want to acknowladge and just pretended it didn't exist. And for sixteen years, it didn't.
I had a great life with my dad in Florida. It was just the two of us, we were a team. I had friends that loved me, and I loved them. I was a normal teenager, I had normal isssues. Average squabbles with my dad, drama with friends, dealing with boys. I went to school, I had a job, I went to the beach, I went shopping. I had a boyfriend. We were one of those "on-again-off-again" couples, and even though I hated it, I could deal. I knew that being tangled up in emotions was just another part of growing up.
And I was growing up and perfectly normal and perfectly happy life.
Then came the night when everything changed.
All I remember is that it was raining, and we were driving home after visiting my Gran up in the Panhandle. It was a long drive, and I knew my dad was tired. I kept offering to drive, even though I hadn't had my lisence for very long. He kept telling me I couldn't. And then suddenly bright lights. Crash. Glass. Blood. Black.
When I woke up, all I saw was white. I heard the steady beep that matched my soft but steady heartbeat. I felt groggy and out of it. What had happened? Why was I here? Flashback to that night. Crash, glass, blood, black. With a sharp intake of breath, I sat up quickly, the tube that was hooked around my face tugging my face, but not before I caught a glimpse of who else was in the room with me.
"Where's dad?" I shrieked. I heard the other person in the room stand up and I heard their footsteps and then they leaned over me, putting a hand to my hair. She was beautiful, with tan skin and long black hair and high cheekbones.
"Addy-"
"Don't call me that," I snapped, knocking her hand off my head. "Where's dad?" I asked again.
She swallowed, and there were tears dotted at the edges of her eyes. "Adelaide...he's dead."
I guess I'd already known, when I'd seen that she was here. But I still shook my head as my tears left my eyes. "No, no he isn't," I moaned. She tried to hug me, but I pushed her off of me. "He's not dead," I said, over and over again.
"Honey-"
I turned over on my side so she couldn't see me and so I couldn't see her. I didn't want to see her. She'd ruined everything. She'd left and I'd made a life with dad. Now he was gone. I sobbed quietly and put my hands on my face. "What's going to happen now?" I asked when I finally caught my breath.
"You have to come back with me, Addy," she said. I shook my head a vehement NO."I'm not going with you." I didn't even to tell her to not call me Addy, the name my dad always called me.
"Adelaide, I am your mother. You have to come with me."
"No."
"You should be able to leave the hospital tomorrow. After the funeral, you're coming back to La Push with me."
I didn't even answer. I didn't want to, and even if I had wanted to, I wouldn't have been able to. I'd spent so long burying that part of me, that part of me that was my mom. But now I'd have to go with her to La Push. I'd have to go, all alone. My dad was dead and I was going to have to go live with my mom in a tiny little place that I hated, even though I'd never seen.
So much for a normal life.