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"Come on, try it. Say ‘shit’. Let's start small."
I shake my head defiantly. "Cameron, don't make me say that."
"Do it. I bet you'll like it." He's always pushed me out of my comfort zone. Most of the time, I've liked it, but it still takes some mental preparation.
"Shit. That's all you gotta say, Raps."
"You're a bad influence," I hiss at him and then glance around the room.
"Say it..." He's leaning in toward me, like he knows I'm about to say it.
"Shit," I finally say in a hushed whisper.
"Yeah, baby. How'd that feel?" He's laughing now, and I can't stop from joining in.
"It felt ... strangely liberating," I admit.
"Watch out, CamU! Zella Raps is about to shit all over this place."
"Oh, my gosh Cameron Pascal, that was disgusting." But we are both laughing, and that's the normal with Cameron. I can't believe I went two full years without him in my life every day.
When he went off to college and I stayed behind to commute Solitude Community College, it was one of the saddest days in my life. Mother didn't want me leaving the nest yet. Cameron begged me for months our senior year to apply to Camelot University, but I didn't because I didn't want to face the backlash of being accepted and my mother finding out.
Two years later, the backlash was the least of my worries.
No, finding my birth certificate and noticing it was dated several months after I was born is a huge worry. At first, I didn't think much of it. The longer I thought about it, the more I realized it didn't seem right. I did some research and found it’s normal for a birth certificate to be dated only a week or two after the baby is born. I couldn't stop researching. I kept typing every question that came into my head:
When do you file for a birth certificate?
How long does it take to file a birth certificate?
What does an official birth certificate look like?
Can you change an official birth certificate?
Turns out, when a baby or child is adopted, a birth certificate is amended, and the biological parents are removed and replaced with their adoptive parents. Then the certificate is dated the same day it's filed with the government.
How do I know if I was adopted?
I remember like it was yesterday, starring at the screen, tears filling my eyes. Was I adopted? Mother had never told me as much. I grew up hearing baby stories about myself. She had so many stories.
My father died when I was still in diapers, so I didn't remember him. It had always been Mother and me.
Suddenly, it didn't feel right. Something deep in my bones was telling me there was a missing puzzle piece. Maybe my desire to have adventures had nothing to do with my mother's strict rules, but with a part of me that I had no idea existed. The longing to be free was because I didn't know my true history.
So, I confronted my mother. She tried to play it off by telling me she lost the original and had to file for a new one. But after my research on the topic, I knew it was a lie. My mother had always pushed me academically. Why she assumed I was arrogant on the matter was beyond me.
Finally, she gave in, admitting she and my father adopted me when I was nine months old. The foster family had supplied her with baby photos and stories. She made up the rest.
To bring everything full circle, it was Cameron who suggested I transfer to CamU, and put some much-needed distance between Mother and me. So that's what I did.
It's been a dream for me, yet a nightmare for Mother.
An alarm on my phone dings, telling me it's time to head to my next class. Cameron and I both push out of our seats and drop our empty drink cups into the trash near the door. As we step out into the hot sunny day, a girl shoves a paper in my empty hands.
"The Glass Ball is coming up! It's time to buy your tickets!" She repeats over and over as she shoves fliers into more empty hands and disappears into Jumping Joes.
"What's this?" I ask Cameron as I scan the flimsy, brightly colored pink paper.