Switched (11 page)

You wore boys clothes for the first month because they were so sure you were going to be a boy.”

“That explains a lot,” I mumbled, and Maggie laughed. “Why didn’t they just get me new clothes? They had the money for it.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Maggie sighed, looking far away. “It was something your mother wanted.” She shook her head. “She was weird about things.”

“What was my name supposed to be?” I couldn’t remember. When I was younger, people had talked about it, but nobody ever reminisced about my childhood anymore.

“Um… Michael!” Maggie snapped her fingers when she remembered.

“Michael Conrad Everly. But then you were girl, so that ruined that.”

“How did I get Wendy from that?” I wrinkled my nose. “Michelle would make more sense.”

“Well…” Maggie looked up at the ceiling, thinking. “Your mother refused to name you, and your father… I guess he couldn’t think of anything.

So Matt named you.”

“Oh yeah.” I faintly remembered hearing that before. “But why Wendy?”

“He liked the name Wendy,” Maggie shrugged. “He was a big
Peter Pan
fan, which is ironic because
Peter Pan
is the story of a boy who never grows up, and Matt was a boy who was always grown up.” I smirked at that. “Maybe that’s why he’s always been so protective of you. He named you. You were his.”

There was a picture of me when I was about two or three, and Matt was holding me in his arms. I was lying on my stomach with my arms and legs outstretched, and he was grinning like a mad man. He used to run me around 78

the house like that, pretending that I was flying, and call me “Wendy Bird,” and I would laugh for hours.

As I got older, it became more and more apparent that I looked nothing like my family. My dark eyes and dark frizzy hair contrasted completely with them. In every picture with me, my mother had these completely exasperated look on her face, as if she had spent the last half hour fighting with me before the picture. But then again, she probably had. I had always been contrary to everything she was. In the pictures of my fifth birthday, I covered all my gifts in cake and stood in my underwear, and my mother stood directly behind me, looking as if she wished she were anywhere else in the whole world.

“You were a strong-willed child,” Maggie admitted, looking at the picture of me naked at my fifth birthday. “You wanted things the way you wanted them. And when you were a baby, you were colicky. But you were always an adorable child, and you were bright and funny.” Maggie gently pushed a strand of hair back from my face. “You were
always
worthy of love. You did nothing wrong, Wendy. She is the one with the problem, not you.”

“I know,” I nodded.

But for the first time, I truly believed that this all might be entirely my fault. If Finn was telling the truth, as these pictures seemed to confirm, I wasn’t their child. I was something else entirely. I was exactly what my mother accused me of being, and she was just more intuitive than everybody else. It was my fault because I wasn’t even human.

“What’s wrong?” Maggie asked, looking concerned. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” I lied and closed the photo album.

“Did something happen last night?” Her eyes were filled with love and worry, and it was hard to think of her as not being my family. She had been the closest thing to a mother I had growing up, and she had done a very good job, all things considered. “Did you even sleep?”

“Yeah. I just… woke up, I guess,” I answered vaguely.

79

“What happened at the dance?” Maggie leaned back against the couch, resting her hand on her chin as she studied me. “Did something happen with a boy?”

“Things just didn’t turn out the way I thought they would,” I said honestly. “In fact, they couldn’t have turned out more different.”

“Was that Patrick boy mean to you?” Maggie asked with a protective edge to her voice.

“No, no, nothing like that,” I assured her. Even though it would be easier to just blame everything on Patrick, he had been nothing but a gentleman, and I didn’t want to badmouth behind him back. Besides that, I had probably used some kind of mind control thing on him, and that didn’t seem right to do that and then talk shit about him. “He was great. But he’s just a friend.”

“Oh.” Understanding flashed across her eyes, and I think she had gotten the wrong idea from that, but whatever kept her from asking more questions. If she wanted to think that I had a crush on Patrick and he didn’t reciprocate, that was fine by me. “Being a teenager is hard, no matter what family you come from.”

“You’re telling me,” I muttered.

Upstairs, I heard the sound of Matt getting up and moving around.

Maggie shot me a nervous look, so I hurried to pack up the photo albums. He wouldn’t exactly be mad at me for looking at them, but he definitely wouldn’t be happy either. And first thing in the morning, I did not want to deal with a fight with my brother, on top of worrying about whether or not he was really even my brother.

“You know, you can talk to me about this stuff whenever you want,”

Maggie whispered as I slipped the albums back in the cardboard box. “Well, at least whenever Matt isn’t around.”

“I know,” I smiled at her.

“I suppose I should make you breakfast.” Maggie stood up and stretched, then looked down at me. “What do you even eat for breakfast?”

80

“Nothing, usually. I barely wake up in time for school,” I said.

“Hmm,” Maggie thought for a minute. “How about plain oatmeal with fresh strawberries? Those are things you eat, right?”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” I nodded.

Something pained me when she asked that. There were so many things I wouldn’t eat and I was constantly hungry. It had been a struggle just to feed me. When I was a baby, I wouldn’t even drink breast milk. Which only added more fuel to the idea that I wasn’t my mother’s child.

Maggie had turned to walk into the kitchen, but I called after her. “Hey, Mags. Thanks for everything. Like… making me food and stuff.”

“Yeah?” Maggie looked surprised but totally happy. “No problem.”

Matt came downstairs a minute later, deeply confused by the fact that both Maggie and I were up before him. We ate breakfast together for the first time in years, and Maggie was overly happy thanks to my small compliment. I was subdued, but I managed to play it off as something resembling happiness.

It was hard to say whether I believed they were my real family or not.

There were so many signs pointing to the contrary. But they had raised me and stood by me the way no one else had. Even my own mother had failed me, but not Matt or Maggie. They were unfailing in their love for me, and most of the time, they had gotten next to nothing in return. And that’s what got me the most. They were nothing but love and understanding, and I was nothing but cold indifference. I was nothing like them.

81

7

The weekend was turbulent. I kept expecting Finn to appear at my window again, but he didn’t, and I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. I wanted to talk to him, but I was terrified. Terrified that he might be lying, and terrified that he might be telling the truth. It was hard for me to concentrate or enjoy anything all weekend long. I kept looking for clues in everything. Like Matt is pretty short and so am I, so he must be my brother. Then a minute later he would say he prefers winter to summer, and I hate winter, so he must not be my brother.

These weren’t clues one way or another, and deep down I knew that. But I was really desperate for answers. My whole life had been one giant question, and I was so close to finally getting it resolved.

That wasn’t everything, though. There was also that burning unanswered question about what exactly Finn had wanted with me. Sometimes, he treated me like I was nothing more than an irritant. Then there were other times, when he looked at me and took my breath away. Any feelings he had for me were probably solely related to the fact that he believed it was his duty to

“track” me, and that was disappointing.

I hoped that school would bring some kind of resolution to all of this.

When I got up Monday morning, I took extra care to look nice, but I tried to pretend like it wasn’t for any particular reason. That it wasn’t because this was the first time I’d see Finn since he had come into my room, and that I still wanted to talk to him. I still wanted to impress him.

When the first period bell rang and Finn still hadn’t taken his place a few rows behind me, a knot started growing in my stomach. I looked around for him all day, half expecting him to be lurking around some corner. He never was, though. His family had probably hauled him off to a nuthouse or something, or maybe he had failed at his job and taken off. At any rate, he wasn’t here.

82

“So what’s going on with you?” Patrick asked me as I craned my neck around the hallways, still on my hopeless search for Finn. We were on our way to lunch, but I was slowing us down considerably by looking around.

“Nothing,” I muttered absently.

“He’s not here,” Patrick sighed.

“What?” I snapped my attention back to him and tried to feign innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re looking for Finn, and he’s not here.” Patrick slowed to a stop and looked apologetically at me. “Look, I’m sorry about Friday night. I don’t know what really happened at the dance, but I should’ve just taken you home when you asked. I guess I misjudged Finn or something.” He shook his head, as if he didn’t quite believe that. “But anyway, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry. You did nothing wrong,” I insisted honestly. To cement my image as being anti-Finn, I added, “Finn is just a total psycho. He stopped by my house a few hours after the dance, and he was rambling all this weird crap.”

“What kind of weird crap?” Patrick’s expression deepened with concern. “Are you okay? Did he do anything?”

“No, it wasn’t anything like that,” I assured him. “He just said that I had super powers or something. I don’t know. It didn’t make any sense. His family probably has him at home sedated or something.”

“Wow.” His eyes widened with surprise. “I am really sorry now. I had no idea.”

“No, it’s fine. Honest.” I brushed him off and started walking to the lunchroom again. “Come on. I’m starving.”

Later on, I knew I might regret saying anything to Patrick about Finn.

If Finn came to school again and we were to get along, it would make things harder if Patrick thought that Finn was insane. But I didn’t really think that would be an issue. Part of me knew that Finn wouldn’t be back to school anymore. His cover had been blown, and I wondered if I would ever see him again.

83

I had barely paid attention to anything all day in school, and I felt incredibly defeated when I walked to Matt’s car. I had expected to have gained something today, but in the end, I was left with even more questions. Matt noticed my surly demeanor and tried to ask about it, but I just shrugged him off. He had been growing increasingly concerned since I had come home from the dance upset, but I had been unable to put his mind at ease.

As we got closer to our house, I saw a silver Cadillac parked in front, but it looked too good to be true. I blinked hard, thinking it must be a mirage, but it was still there. When we approached, I could see Finn, sitting on the swing on the front porch. I bit my lip to keep from showing any level of happiness.

“Who is that?” Matt demanded when we turned into the driveway.

“Finn,” I replied absently, still staring out the window at him.

“Is he the boy that upset you at the dance?” Matt asked protectively.

“No, no,” I lied. Then I smiled to reassure him. “Just let me talk to him, okay?” Matt gave me a hard look and for an awful second I thought he would insist on kicking Finn of the porch or something.

“I’m going to meet him first,” Matt said.

“Sure, fine.” That actually made me really nervous, but I had no real choice.

I hopped out of the car and had to force my feet to walk slowly around the house to the front porch. Finn had seen us pull up, and he stood up. His face betrayed none of his reasons for his visit, and he had a five o’clock shadow growing, making him look older. It was actually pretty sexy too, but it would only succeed in making Matt feel even more protective. I climbed up the steps to the porch, feeling Finn’s dark eyes on me, and I did my best not to smile or give him any clue that I was happy to see him.

“Hi,” I said quietly, and Finn just looked at me. Matt stood right behind me, and Finn gave him a small nod. “This is my brother, Matt.” Finn tried to keep his eyes on Matt, but they flitted uncertainly to me when I said

“brother” before going back to Matt. “Matt, this is Finn.”

84

Finn leaned forward and shook Matt’s hand respectfully, but neither of them said anything. Finn was sizing Matt up, and that made me nervous. Sure, Matt worked out, but Finn was taller, and even if he wasn’t, I didn’t want them fighting. A thick tension settled over us as they just stared down each other, neither of them willing to give.

“Matt, isn’t there something you need to do inside?” I suggested hopefully and glanced over at him. He made no motion for the door, and I wondered fearfully if he planned on chaperoning my talk with Finn.

“I’ll be right inside,” Matt finally relented. It was more of a warning to Finn, who nodded his compliance to Matt.

Even after he had turned to walk in the house, Finn stared after him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the window next to where we were standing. We stood in silence for a moment, both of us waiting until we were sure Matt had gone, but I refused to say anything until Finn did.

“He’s watching us,” Finn glanced at the window again.

“Yeah, I know.” I couldn’t see anything, but Finn was right. Matt was probably waiting just inside the door in case I decided to scream for help.

“He thinks you need protection.” Finn looked confused by the idea.

“Yeah, I know,” I repeated and shifted uncomfortably.

“You

don’t

need