them some explanation. Disgruntled but resigned to the idea, Tori pulled her feet up on the seat. “It’s not personal. It’s just fact.” She paused and shrugged. “I was almost adopted once.”
“And what happened that you weren’t?” Dana asked, ignoring the startled reaction of the other girls.
Old habit had Tori reaching up to curl a tendril of hair around her finger. It was just long enough now that she could. “The couple I was with got pregnant with their own kid, and suddenly everything they told me about how they would love me like their very own went right out the window.” Tori hated the way her heart panged when she said the words. It made her angry. It had happened so many years ago, and she still wasn’t done crying about it. Disgusting. “It’s such bullshit. Once they found out they could have kids of their own, they didn’t need someone else’s baby.”
Alex put her hands to the swell at her middle. “Serena and Richard, that’s my kid’s adoptive parents, wouldn’t ever do that.” Her words were vehement.
Whatever. If they all wanted to live in dreamland, Tori wasn’t going to pull the wool off their eyes. She’d seen too much to trust other people to keep their word. Love wasn’t a promise anyone could keep. “If you say so.”
“I’m very sorry that happened to you, Tori.” Dana’s words were soft and sincere. “But on average, most adoptions turn out well, especially with newborn babies. Alex, you were able to choose the adoptive parents you were comfortable with, right?”
Tori was quiet for the rest of the meeting. She managed to keep her pessimistic comments to herself. If nothing else, it was interesting. The thirteen girls there each had a very different story. She didn’t hear them all that day, but the ones she heard were enlightening to say the least. Tori didn’t feel quite as dumb in comparison afterward. Some of these girls had gotten pregnant on purpose and been shocked when it didn’t go over well.
She listened to stories of supportive parents, overbearing parents, and parents who’d sent them off to be dealt with by grandparents or aunts. Some of the babies’ fathers were in the picture, some weren’t. The youngest girl, a fifteen-year-old named Allison, had gotten pregnant by her twenty-six-year-old boyfriend. She was very indignant that he was doing time for statutory rape.
As she got up to leave, Tori had to admit it wasn’t as bad as she’d expected. Not once had Dana preached at the girls. She had simply reinforced over and over that it was a difficult position they’d found themselves in and that they deserved support without judgment no matter what their choices were.
When the meeting was over, she hadn’t gone more than a few steps toward the door when she was stopped by a touch at her arm and a tentative, “Hey.”
Tori turned, surprised to find the girl who had been sitting to her right all night staring at her with a nervous expression. “Uh. Hey.”
Awkward much?
“My name’s, um . . . Emily.” The halting manner in which she spoke made it sound like this was a revelation not only to Tori but to herself. She recovered and held her hand out.
“Tori.” She took the girl’s hand and gave it a small squeeze.
“So, um, sorry. I guess I just wanted to say hi. And I wanted to ask . . .”
“What?” Tori was trying to be patient, but this chick was drawing this conversation out way too much. Tori wanted to be out of this church.
“You said you weren’t adopted by those people? Did you ever get adopted?” Tori must have had a harsh look on her face, because Emily backpedaled quickly. “I’m sorry.”
“No. It’s fine. Whatever. No, I never got adopted.”
“So was that, um, that lady who dropped you off your foster mom or something?”
Tori turned to her. “Jesus, kid. Are you stalking me or something?”
Emily’s eyes went wide. “What? No. I just saw you with . . . her. Before. Outside. I’m just