Page 59 of Free Fall

“I agree. It’s important to make peace with the unknown.”

We sit in silence for a few seconds, both of us pondering another great unknown—the sky above.

Sejin shrugs. “Anyway, yeah, so that video was confusing to me. I think about it a lot now, how all these other adoptees are angry about being adopted, how they feel stripped of their heritage and are upset about being given to an American white family. And I have to wonder, you know? Am I doing my life wrong? Because it never occurred to me to feel that way? Was I robbed?”

“Yes, you were robbed, and no, you weren’t robbed. You lost one thing and got another instead. How you feel about it—how they feel about it—it’s not right or wrong. If you’re not mad, you’re not mad. If youstaynot mad, that’s fine. If you get mad later, that’s fine too.”

“ButshouldI be mad?”

“I don’t know. ShouldIbe mad that I was passed around foster homes and—”

“I mean, I don’t know the details, but I’d say yes! You should be furious about that.”

“Well, you were loved. Maybe that’s the difference.”

“Some of these other adoptees were probably loved and they’re still angry about what they lost. But, right now, in my life? The thing I’m most angry to have lost is my mom, you know? The woman who raised me.”

I clear my throat. “That makes sense. It seems like she was a good mom to you.”

I feel like I’m vomiting up words from some how-to-be-a-human-being-in-hard-situations manual, and I wonder if this has been instilled in me from Peggy Jo, or Rye, or who exactly gave me the training to not make an utter ass of myself right now. In the past, I’d probably have fucked this up badly enough that Sejin would get up and walk away.

“She was.” He sighs. “It’s okay. You can ask.”

“What?”

“How she died. I know you’re curious. Everyone always is, and most people ask eventually. Let’s just get it out of the way.”

“Alright. How’d she die?”

“It was breast cancer. She was fifty-nine.”

“That sucks,” I say again. What else is there to say in a situation like this?

“It changed everything.”

We sit in silence again, and then I ask, “What about your dad? Are you close with him?”

“Not really. Or not the way I think you mean. But he’s the reason I’m out here tonight with you.”

“How’s that?”

Sejin shrugs. He looks down at the now empty bowl in his hand, his lashes touching his cheekbones, and his lips curve up slightly. “What would you say if I told you that I think you and I are going to do more together than just fuck?”

“I’d say that’s pretty observant since we’re currently eating nachos and camping out while not-fucking.”

Sejin laughs, and I think I can see his cheeks darken in the light from the portable camp stove. Is he blushing? “Yeah, we aren’t fucking right now, are we?”

“No.”

“What I mean, though, is if we keep seeing each other, it’s going to turn into more than sex.”

“It already has,” I say, collecting his bowl and mine, and starting to clear up the food so that we can seal it up good and tight. “You officially know more about me now than anyone except for Rye and Peggy Jo. You probably know more than Lowell, to be honest.”

“Lowell Moody?”

“Yeah.”

“You know him?”