Chapter 27
“So, Cindy, there is something familiar about you,” Randy says. We’re in the back of the bus. He leans against his seat and extends his long legs. “Do you go to Jefferson Davis Middle School?”
“I’m … homeschooled.”
I lean against the cracked-open window and gasp for air. I’d open it wider but I fear my wig would fly off.
“Really?” Randy sits up, plants his feet on the floor and scootches sideways. “Can I ask you something?”
Oh, God. “Sure.”
“Do you get lonely?”
“All the time.”
Well, it’s the truth. Finally.
Randy gazes at me for a long moment.
“I believe you,” he says.
Oh, s**t.
What am I doing?
“So,” Randy says, “After my parents divorced, my real dad disappeared. All I ever knew was my stepfather. Everyone knows him as my dad. And all my friends think he’s my dad.
