Page 56 of Strange Love

“So maybe something to do with one of those?” she finishes.

Filled with conviction, I reach out and squeeze her knee. “You’re going to be incredible at whatever you choose to do, Ivy,” I assure her. And I know without a doubt that it’s true.

Chapter 32

“Tarzan Boy”

Ivy - Age 18, 1989

With a determined stride, I climb out of my car and approach the school entrance. I am set on talking to Sascha and getting some answers about Taz’s strange behavior. As I wait, I see his unmistakable beat-up truck pull up, but what catches my attention more is seeing Sascha sitting in the passenger seat next to him. She looks less than thrilled to be there, but her presence raises concern.

Taz exits the car and says something to Sascha before walking to Corey and the other guys. Meanwhile, Sascha heads towards me, only glancing up at the last moment when she realizes I’ve seen everything.

“Don’t ask,” she says curtly as she walks past me in a huff.

“Wait, Sash,” I call after her, quickly following behind. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Thank you,” she mutters as she continues walking, forcing me to jog slightly to keep up with her pace.

“Can you at least admit that it’s odd that you just rode to school with someone you claim to hate?” I press.

She stops and turns to face me, her expression serious. “What if I told you I didn’t have a choice?” she asks cryptically.

“What do you mean?” I ask, confused.

Sascha shakes her head, “There are still things about me that I haven’t shared. It’s not because I’ve intentionally kept them from you. It’s just not something I think about or talk about often. If you can peel yourself away from Corey’s lips during lunch, let’s grab some sandwiches and chat.”

I reassure her by placing my hand on her arm as she looks up at me with worried eyes.

“I’ll meet you here,” I say before heading inside.

Lost in thought about Sascha and Taz’s mysterious behavior, I nearly collide with Kerri as I navigate the crowded hallway.

“Are you okay?” she asks in her barely there accent. Her long strawberry blonde curls are pulled back into a high ponytail, and she’s dressed in dark pegged jeans tucked into bright yellow socks that match her cozy sweater. It’s effortlessly cute and perfectly her. I can’t help but smile at the sight of her, knowing that she probably wears overalls, boots, and t-shirts when working at home.

It dawns on me that the small group of friends I’ve surrounded myself with all have one thing in common: they are unapologetically themselves. Kerri is no exception, and I’m grateful to have found such authentic people during my last year of school.

I lean against my locker, listening to the clanging of metal lockers and snippets of conversation as I wait for Corey. He arrives a few minutes later, his bright smile and morning kiss making my heart flutter. I never pictured myself becoming this girl who eagerly waits to see her boyfriend daily. But here we are, and I can’t help but think about him constantly.

As he walks me to my first class, I mention that I’ll be having lunch with Sascha today and ask if Taz has told Corey anything about what’s been happening. Corey shakes his head but mentions that Taz has been acting more like himself lately, which eases some of my worries.

After what amounts to an eternity of waiting for the clock to strike noon, I greet Sascha outside the cafeteria. She’s sporting her signature all-black ensemble with a sleek black sweater, a flowy black skirt, and chunky black combat boots. We lock arms and head over to the Sub Shop for lunch.

We sit down with our sandwiches, and I can’t help but tap my fingers nervously on the table, waiting for Sascha to open up about whatever is bothering her. I’ve learned from experience that pushing her too hard will only worsen things. Finally, she takes a deep breath and starts to speak. With a hesitant pause, she looks up at me with vulnerable eyes before sharing a secret.

“You don’t know this about me, but I was adopted.” She studies my expression for any signs of judgment and continues finding only understanding and compassion. “It’s not something I usually talk about because it’s never been a big deal. My birth mother was young, even younger than we are now. She wasn’t able to raise a baby while still being a child herself, so she made the difficult decision to give me up for adoption. Luckily, my parents were able to agree to adopt me before I was born. To me, they have always been my true parents.”

“Thank you for trusting me with this,” I respond sincerely.

Her gaze shifts away, hinting at another layer to the story.

“This is where Taz comes in,” she admits.

“IS HE YOUR BROTHER?” I shriek in a moment of unfiltered thought.

“What?” she says with a mocking laugh. “For the love of Dave Gahan. No! Just calm down, Nancy Drew.”

“Sorry,” I reply sheepishly.