Three days later, I am woken up early in the morning, like all the mornings before, to yelling downstairs. I rub the sleep out of my eyes, having not gotten much since I was last at Leda’s house.

Leda had been rather distant with me since then. We still texted, but she hadn’t invited me to hang out at all, nor had I gotten a chance to ask Matt if she could come over.

My relationship with Matt was… Well, it wasn’t really anything. He and Val had been at it so much since we got here, that I barely had a moment to spend with him. Gus, however, had somehow managed to build some sort of relationship with him, when he and his wife weren’t arguing. This made me kind of mad, although in a way, it was kind of my fault; I wasn’t making much of an effort.

Then again, neither was Matt.

So, when he knocked on my door not ten minutes after I had been rudely awoken, I was a bit surprised; especially when he announced that he and I were going to spend the day together. Just the two of us.

The first thought that crossed my mind when he said this was ‘Oh joy; I get to spend the whole day concentrating on not embarrassing myself in front of my favorite singer’. My mind flashed back to the day at the mall, when I all but burst into tears the moment Brian realized that I was a fan of the band. I could barely fathom how much worse it would be when Matt found out – that is, if he found out.

I throw on one of the new tops Michelle had encourage me to buy the other day and a pair of shorts, so I’m comfortable in the inevitable California heat. I then throw my bright auburn hair up into a ponytail, before tying up my Converse and meeting Matt outside by his car.

“Where are we going?” I ask him, as we pull out of the driveway. He just gives me a knowing smile, turning up the radio on the local rock station. I shrug, nodding my head along with the music. I recognize the song as something Jim would play for me, though it’s been a while since I heard it.

After about a half-hour, we finally pull up in front of a formal-looking building. At first, I’m confused as to why someone like Matt would be taking me to a place like this. Then, I see the sign; excitement courses through my veins – Orange County Museum of Art.

I look over at Matt, who looks rather pleased with himself; as if he knows he’s chosen a place that I would love. And he’s right, except I wasn’t sure how he knew that.

As if to answer my question, he speaks up, “Gus told me you were into this kind of stuff.” I frown slightly. My interest in art wasn’t really Gus’ to tell. But either way, at least I get to spend time with my favorite singer – my dad.

I shake my head; I wasn’t sure if I was ready to refer to him as my dad quite yet, especially since we weren’t very close yet. But perhaps this afternoon would change that.

I follow him inside, and after paying admission, we step into the first exhibit.

I would be lying if I said I recognized pieces of art right away. Sometimes, it took me a moment; sometimes I simply didn’t know. The first exhibit was filled with abstract art, which was one of my favorite forms of art, even though I could never create something quite like it. Besides, photography was more of my forte.

I could have spent hours just staring at the various paintings that adorned the wall, but I had a gut feeling that spending hours at an art museum was definitely not Matt’s idea of fun. Though every time I looked over at him, he looked rather… content. Almost happy. However, when I thought more about it, I came to the conclusion that it was probably because it was the first day in a little under a week that he wasn’t at it with Val.

I had to say though; going there really seemed to inspire me. It had been months since I had tried to paint something – I wasn’t the best at it, but I had a few things that I was proud of. But seeing some of the paintings in the museum seemed to ignite something deep within me that made me want to pick up the brush as soon as I got back.

“Have fun?” Matt asks me as we walk out nearly three hours later. I felt bad for making him wait around for me for so long, but the selfish side of me was just ecstatic that I got to in the first place. It wasn’t very often that I got to go to places like these – aside from the various concerts I had been to throughout the years, art museums was just one more place where I felt like I belonged.

I nod excitedly, unable to contain he shit-eating grin that was currently planted across my face. He laughs, clearly amused. I’m too happy to even be embarrassed.

“Are you hungry?” I nod again, less enthusiastically. I realize that, even though Matt and I had been spending the day together, we hadn’t really been spending the day together. The art museum was like a library, in that we were expected to be practically silent. We hadn’t really talked much, though I think I preferred it to be that way.

Going to lunch scared me.

But I nod along anyway.

“I know a good burger place not far from here,” he tells me, starting up the engine. “Would that be alright?” I shrug and he continues driving in that direction.

Like the car ride to the museum, the only sound in the car is that of the radio. However, the silence between us isn’t half as awkward as it was before. It was almost like we had connected simply by standing around and looking at art together for two straight hours.

It doesn’t take us too long to be seated, and soon, we’re sitting by the large, floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the Pacific Ocean. It’s a breathtaking view, considering the only body of water I had ever seen was the Puget Sound back in Washington. And while that was beautiful in a different way, it wasn’t anything like this.

“Enjoying the view?” he asks, after I’ve been staring out the window for a good ten minutes. Blushing, I reluctantly tear my gaze away, looking over at him.

The smile on his face is less amused than the one he seemed to have earlier; instead, he just seems genuinely happy. He seems content.

“There really isn’t much of an ocean back home,” I tell him quietly, my face still heated. “It’s so beautiful.”

“You should paint it, or something.” I stare at him for a moment, and he stares back, taking a sip of his diet Coke.

“I don’t paint much,” I explain. “I prefer photography.” He shrugs.

“Then you should take a photo of it.” I shake my head.

“It’s already been done before,” I say quickly, not wanting to divulge into a conversation about my art. For some reason, talking about it felt to be on a sort of level of intimacy that I wasn’t ready to share with him just yet. “Who needs another pictureof the ocean?”

“I do,” he replies simply, “If it’s a picture my daughter took, I definitely need it.”

My daughter.

I feel myself tense up, and I can tell he notices. He frowns, setting down his glass, which he had been holding in his large hand for the last minute or so.

“Are you alright?” I don’t say anything. He touches my arm gently, and I jump. “Autumn?”

“I’m… I’m sorry. I just…” I’m not sure how I’m supposed to explain myself to him. I had basically frozen up for no reason other than the fact that he referred to me as his daughter. M. Shadows referred to me as his daughter.

And maybe it wasn’t only that; maybe it was just the fact that I more or less felt he needed to earn the right to refer to me as that. To me, there was a difference between biological parents, and real parents – as far as I was concerned, Matt was nothing more than my biological parent. My real parents were back home in Washington.

This brings up another question in my mind – one I’ve been dying to have answered since I found out about it – at least, when I wasn’t too busy worrying about Leda.

“Where’s our mother?”

His frown deepens, and he withdraws his hand from my arm. He looks down, studying his drink carefully. I almost feel like I’ve crossed a boundary with him that I shouldn’t have; that I was pushing my limits.

But then again, didn’t I deserve to know?

“I’d rather not talk about it,” he finally says, still staring into the brown liquid.

“But…”

“She wasn’t anyone relevant.” He says it with such finality; it makes me angry.

“She was our mother,” I say defensively, raising my voice slightly.

“There’s no reason to raise your voice, Autumn,” he says gently. This just makes me even angrier.

“Of course there is! How can you say she’s not ‘anyone relative’? She gave birth to us…!”

“And that’s about all she was good for,” Matt all but shouts, earning us a couple of annoyed looks from other customers sitting around us.

I can’t help but stare at him with a shocked expression. How could he say that? Was it possible that he just held so much animosity towards our mother that he found it irrelevant to tell us who she was? or maybe she just did something so horrible, other than conceive us, that made him not want to say anything?

“Alright then,” I mutter, slumping in my seat. Just then, the waiter chooses right then to come out with our food. I resort to sorting my French-fries by length, while Matt digs right in.

“You should eat,” he tells me with a mouthful of burger. As if to prove to him that I am, I pick up one of them, and stick it in my mouth; I try to ignore the fact that it was currently burning the roof of my mouth.

We sit in silence for a moment; I don’t touch my cheeseburger, partially from laziness, as I didn’t want to have to pick off the parts of it I wouldn’t eat; partially from my loss of appetite within the last ten minutes.

“Look,” Matt finally sighs. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. It isn’t fair that I’m keeping information about your mother from you, but I really hope that one day, you’ll see it from my perspective, and realize that I’m just trying to do what I think is right for you.”

“What do you know about me?” I snap. He blinks.

“I know enough.”

“You know nothing about me,” I hiss, immediately growing defensive. A dark, hurt expression crosses his face.

I know I’ve fucked up.

“You’re right,” he says quietly. “You’re right. And it’s entirely my fault.” I see tears form in his eyes; guilty begins to consume me. “But I did it for you. I did it because I wanted you and your brother to have a good life. I did it because I knew, at the time, that I couldn’t provide that for you.

“And if that offends you, then I’m fucking sorry.”

I look down at my hands, on the verge of tears. If I ever wanted to be close to Matt, then I can tell I’ve ruined those chances. Not only have I fucked up a potential relationship with at least one of my biological parents, but I’ve also embarrassed myself in front of one of the men I’ve idolized growing up.

Silently, he gestures for the waiter to bring him the bill, and before I know it, we’re back on the highway. Unlike before, the car is dead silent, which makes me want to burst into tears. I can tell he’s anxious to get away from me, from the way he all but jumps out of the car the minute we park in the driveway. Clearly, I had pissed him off more than Val ever could.

I don’t follow after him for a while. I sit in the car, in stunned silence. I couldn’t believe how easily my words could change things. I couldn’t believe how much Matt took my words to heart.

As soon as he sees me coming upstairs, Gus wraps me up in a tight hug, lifting me off the ground slightly.

“How was it?” he asks grinning. Is face then begins to fall when he sees mine.

“The museum was fun. After that…”

“What happened?” He ushers me into his bedroom, and I sit down on his bed. He sits beside me, and I rest my head on his shoulder.

“I asked him about our mother,” I whisper. I feel him tense up beneath me.

“W-What did he tell you?” I frown slightly.

“Nothing. He said she wasn’t relevant. He said he was just doing what he thought was right for me. It made me angry. He thinks he knows so much about me, but he doesn’t.”

“He knows more about you than you think, Autumn,” he mutters. I immediately shoot my head up, looking at him accusingly.

“What makes you say that?” I demand.

“Oh, come on,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You really think that the agreement he had with Jim and Rhonda didn’t go as far as to still have some sort of idea of what our lives were like, did you? He has pictures of us, Autumn. When Jim told us that Matt contacted him, I had thought that he meant for the first time since we were adopted, but no; they’ve been in contact since we were adopted. In fact, that’s probably how Jim was able to get you into so many concerts; Matt probably hooked him up.” I just sit there, trying to process what he’s saying.

“And it’s not like we don’t talk about you when you’re at Leda’s, either,” he continues. “Since you refuse to put any effort into building a relationship with him, he has had to ask me about you. And of course I tell him everything I can.” I stare at him with my mouth hanging open.

“Why, Gus?” I squeak. “Why would you tell him for me?” He narrows his eyes at me.

“I said,” he says lowly. “That it’s because you won’t do it yourself.”

“You know I don’t trust people that easily,” I half-yell. “I would have told him things about me eventually. For Christ’s sake; we’re barely been here a week – what, are you and him best buddies now?”

“Calm down, Autumn. I was just trying to do what was right...”

“So telling him all about my personal life is ‘what’s right’?!”

“You’re acting as if I told him your deepest, darkest secrets. Jesus, we don’t talk about you that much. I mean, sure; he’s brought you up a couple of times, but that’s because he’s curious, and he wants answers that he knows he won’t be getting out of you any time soon. Simple things, like about your art. Hell, if it weren’t for me, he would have never taken you to that museum.”

“That still wasn’t your place to tell him.” I’m standing over him now. I have to hand it to him, however; he seemed completely unfazed by my outburst. Just slightly annoyed.

“Well, I’m sorry I tried to help you build a relationship with your idol, Autumn. I tried to help you build a relationship with your father –”

“Don’t,” I hiss, holding up a hand to silence him. “He is not my father. Jim Barrett is my father; Matt just happens to be biologically related to me.”

“I know, Autumn. And so does Matt. He understands that we’ll never look at him the same way you see Jim and Rhonda – that we’ll never truly see him as our father.” He grabs my hands gently; his gaze is warm and understanding. “But he’s still trying to be a part of our lives. How many parents, who had children at such a young age, and put them up for adoption, try to do that?”

I have to admit that he’s right. But it still bothered me that Matt pretended to know me, when all he really did know was whatever Jim and Rhonda have told him throughout the years – and now what Gus has told him the past few days.

“I don’t know if I can trust him, Gus,” I say quietly, sitting back down and resting my head back on his shoulder. “He’s hiding something about our mother. I don’t like it. I need to know who she was.” Once again, I feel him tense up; I know he knows something that I don’t.

But I continue anything.

“What bothers me the most is that Jim lied to us, too,” I say quietly. “He said that our mother was Matt’s wife, but Val didn’t even know we existed. So either he lied to us, or he didn’t know. And I’m really, really hoping it’s the last one.”

“I’m sure it is, Autumn,” Gus tells me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Jim would never lie to us about something so serious.” I look up at him.

“Would you ever lie to me about something so serious, Gus?” I see a look of guilt flash across his eyes.

I guess I know the answer to that.

“Of course not, Tummy,” he “promises” me, purposely making his voice higher than usual, as if to make it more genuine. It did exactly the opposite; it made me sick to my stomach. “I would never lie to you. You’re my baby sister.”

Usually, whenever he said this, I would reply “you’re only a few minutes older than me” or something else stereotypical. But I feel so betrayed, that I can’t bring myself to do that.

I stand up, pulling away from his rather roughly. I can feel his gaze on me as I stomp out of his room, slamming his door behind me.

I lock my door behind me and sink to the floor, burying my head in my hands and trying hard not to cry. I felt like everyone was lying to me – it was like everyone thought I wasn’t old enough to handle the truth – the truth about my own life.

And it fucking hurt.

Notes

A/N: I know I didn't update on Friday and I'm really, really sorry. I usually update from school since that's where I do most of my writing, and I didn't have school on Friday, so it completely slipped my mind. That being said, I'm only going to update it once today instead of twice, since I actually haven't written much past chapter seventeen and I don't want to fall behind. But since I go back to school again tomorrow, I'll try to write more during my free time so I can get back to updating Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thanks again and tell me what you think =)

~WOLFY~