Chapter Twelve: The One Where Gianni Tells the Truth

"It's okay though. As I promised, I'm not gonna suspect you, because we're supposed to be a team. Admit that suspecting me wasn't right - both of you - and we can move on. My point's been proven. Those close to Camille will have something suspicious about them come up." Gianni reassured me, his arms on either side of my body as he lead me to the couch where he was sitting. He allowed me to sit there until I gained full consciousness and could see normally. "Keep in mind people don't lie only because they're covering up their mistakes or they're afraid of consequences. People might lie to protect someone they love, or the life they had that was buried in the past. There's probably an explanation for this too and we'll figure it out. Don't fret."

"We messed up. We shouldn't have suspected you. Are we cool now?" Rachel rushed through the phrases like they didn't have any purpose or importance, as she joined us on the couch. Watching it unfold, I didn't have the gut to overpower whatever she was up to, but I did mouth him a muted 'I'm sorry', which he evidently appreciated more than her verbal one. He decided not to argue with her, tired of that mess between them himself. "Does that mean we get to know your story now, Gian?"

"That's what you're so desperate for? Really?" Gianni shook his head, not impressed. That, or he was stalling like Rachel tried to do before. They have a lot more in common than they act they do.

"Why wouldn't I be? That was the deal. I'm doing my job in making sure you don't forget that." I was watching Rachel take her every chance to go sassy mode on Gianni, and with the rollercoaster of emotions he's put me through I didn't feel I owed him anything. I must've held a bit of a grudge, but I didn't shield him, and it's that grudge that contributed to quenching my curiosity.

"Fine, you win, Rach." He groaned a tad too long, purposely before he could transition into beginning what we were asking for. Once he put himself up to it, he got straight to the point. "Kade Gamoza was Camille's dance partner, and Kade Gamoza is me. We're the same person."

"What?" Rachel and I's lips appeared to only be able to form one word. I don't know what I was expecting him to say out of her request and her pressure, and I didn't think that I had any guesses of what his story could possibly be, but that was a plot twist that didn't have any intentions of laying anything down easy.

"You asked for the truth and now you can't digest it? Neither of you?" He scoffed, crossing one of his legs over the other that added to the seriousness and formal-ness of the conversation. It felt claustrophobic and the air itself seemed tight. The glint in his eye wouldn't leave us alone. He was determined to keep the conversation in his control, or keep his hands on the reins. I couldn't help but wonder what he thought would happen if he lost control. I didn't get it. Not one bit. "Well, it's true. I was born in the Netherlands, so I guess technically my first language is Dutch, but I've naturally learned Cebuano from living here so long that I'm more comfortable speaking it, and yet you saw my blond hair and blue eyes and automatically speak English. It sucks, living in a place I'm so used to like a native would be, but not being recognized as one."

"I-I'm s-sorry. I didn't know-." I was so flabbergasted by the entire idea I could barely formulate a response. Gianni seemed to dislike it, that he had to stand up and pace around my living room to snap himself out of it.

"Okay ra. Ingon ana man jud nang tawo. Naanad na ko."

He answered finally, but the expressions on our faces were becoming more emphasized now that we could see him speaking our mother tongue; I know it's terrible, but it made it unbelievable to properly comprehend. "And I'm gonna have to use English so that you two can actually listen to me, instead of have to say this twice, aren't I? Okay. I should've expected that. Let's get it over with." He rolled his eyes, his hands on his hips for a minute until he brought one up to rub the base of his neck. Afterward, he nodded to himself, as if he were trying to come to terms with what he said aloud, and like he hadn't agreed with it yet in his own head.

"My birth-name is Gianni Jules. For reasons like you're both proving, this is the name I thought would be best to introduce myself as. People will see me as a foreigner having fun as a tourist, that's hanging around for a super long time. The hair and eye color, the last name being from out of the country? So basic to explain with that kind of cover up." He ruffled up his hair, whatever he was thinking flooding tears up over his eyelids, that he wiped away before I could even see them touch his cheeks. He didn't want to be known as weak, and that's why he wouldn't tell his story, but it's what made the stereotypes more stupid than they already were.

"Back where I was born, I had a brother who was ten years older than me. When he was 18, my parents walked out on us. Off the grid, actually, and I haven't seen them since, but he was legal age so he took care of himself, went on his way, and I got taken by services. I ended up in an orphanage that was doing a study on child happiness, comparing living with other children with similar circumstances to living with a real family. I became the guinea pig of their experiment, and I was adopted by a Filipino family by the last name Gamoza. It was their idea to change my first name to Kade, and I agreed. I thought a fresh start would be good. That I'd have the chance to start anew. I've heard the three of them, my parents and my brother have tried looking for me here, but I'm not ready to forgive them. I started over for a reason, and yeah. That's pretty much the story of why I'm here."

"That's a big change." I didn't know how to respond, so I said the first thing that came to my mind. It made me appear to be pitying him, which I can't say if I was doing or not, but what was weirder is I couldn't tell if he was hating that pity or pretending to hate it. I've seen the guy angry many times since I've known him, but this almost seemed on the surface. If he's just changing my viewpoint on him in the recent hours or if that's really what he was showing, I don't think anyone will ever know.

"So you were legit adopted? What's it like? Is it hard - you know - accepting it?" Rachel asked, deeply interested in the answers that would come out of it. I've known her almost my entire life and I've never once seen her act that way. I guess having a child does that to you. It pokes at a the sweet part of your heart and eventually it overpowers. In her case, it only shows in certain circumstances, but it's good to know it exists.

"There's a bad feeling out of it when I first heard the news, more than anything else." Gianni stated, burying his hands into his pockets so he wouldn't get so antsy, or at least show that he was. "I kept wondering why my parents disappeared and why they let me go. Did they not love me? Was I too hard on them? Was I a mistake they wish they never made? I always asked myself those questions."

"I'm sure it's not like that." She answered him too personally on instinct, but it came out as something that sounded comforting, in a sense that wouldn't relate to her. He didn't notice she could mean anything more, or flinch at all like he caught onto something and I stayed quiet, making her privacy a priority of mine. It's human decency to do that much, no matter how much of a hassle she can be. "Why would you hear that they've been looking for you? Obviously, it's not like that."

"Maybe it's not." He shrugged. "But whatever it is, it's okay now. That was a long time ago. I've lived more than half my life as a Gamoza, and they take care of me very well, so I don't have anything to complain about. I come home to a place that feeds me and the roof above me protects me from rain. I was able to go to school, get an education. I'm better off than a lot of people. I prefer to focus on that. I don't want to see them again. Not for now, at least. I want to have control of myself for a while."

"Good for you. I'm proud of you." I rooted for him whatever his decision was. After all, people say blood is thicker than water and that can be true a lot of the time, but let's face it. Sometimes blood is thin, weak, and improperly supports a person, and when it is, it's life-threatening. Among everyone in the room, he knew his own family better than we do - they're strangers to us - and we had no right to judge what he can have rightful reason for. Quite clearly the world has some trashy people and there's no saying that they're not one to contribute to the category. "You have strong will power and courage. I like that."

Rachel pursed her lips, against where I was bringing the conversation and against my opinion, but she didn't know how to get into the argument of her side without giving her past experience away, so it ended there. I could tell that just by looking at her face. She said nothing, besides the uncomfortable shift of her position. Gianni giggled at my answer, searching around the house some more. I looked at him weirdly, wondering what he could possibly be up to this time, but Rachel and I ended up on the same boat. He took the silence as his time to shine, if that's what you call joking around these days. "I know right? What's not to like?"

Peeking into drawers, inside picture frames, between books and the pages inside of them, and much more - I hated looking at someone going through my things and having to act like I was okay with it. He had his three minutes, and his time was up, so he didn't have any reason to continue whatever journey he had in mind. It was pretty unmannerly to do that; go through someone's house like he owns it, especially when the owner is standing there watching his every move. I couldn't stand seeing it, even after I was trying to be nice. "Uhm, wh-what are you doing?" I asked, trying to be as kind about it as I could.

"Don't worry. It doesn't do you any harm." He said without missing a beat. He didn't turn to look at me for even a second, and he wouldn't dare stop what he was doing - rummaging deeper into my belongings. "It's obvious someone was here on the day Camille died. I want to see if they left any clues. That person - they were bound to leave something behind, right?"

I stood behind him, barely tell enough on my tip toes to see what he was going through right over his shoulder for the longest than he's been stuck on anything else. "In my stuff? You do find me suspicious!"

"No. How could I know this was your stuff? I'm looking everywhere."

"You've been locked on my bag for the past five minutes and you've grazed through almost everything else you touched. You think you'll find evidence in the place where the only teenage girl left in the house keeps her stuff that's being used every single day? That's kept right by the door? That you've seen every time I go out? But that it's not me that you're blaming?"

I yanked at the back of his shirt until I got him to turn around. Tears were streaming down his face, but his expression was hot with anger it could burn almost anything down like a wildfire. Despite that, his words defied what his appearance was giving away. "No! It's not you! Alright? I just want to know what happened!"

"I swear to God Gianni."

"It's seriously not you." He spaced out each word too much, that each syllable gave a separate chill of its own, but it wasn't strong enough to knock me over and shrivel in fear. Nothing scared me at this point - or it would take a lot, and this, didn't make that.

"I know you think it is. You can't lie to me."

"No it's not-."

"Yes it is. I know it is."

"Okay! I can't handle it!" He yelled, kicking at the coffee table hard enough to kick off the cup of pens, tiny notebooks and the phone right out of socket. "People always leave something behind. Hell, Rachel had sex at 15 years old and she had a child because of it. You think you're perfect, girly? The one with the parents that are still together and the one whose family didn't give you away and give up on you? Your life is perfectly aligned, isn't it? But the evidence here leads to you. It has to be you and there's going to be more to prove it."

"Are you comparing bringing life into the world to taking one out of it? What the heck is wron-?" I blinked ferociously to control my inner emotions, but it was so much to handle I just fell into the couch and let it take all of my strength and frustration.

Rachel stood up in my place, chin wobbling, and tears of her own dotting her face - droplets she didn't even try to hide. She looked down at her feet, up at Gianni, back and forth that way for a while, until she could take looking at him straight. "How did you know I had a baby? Nobody knew about that except Mew and I know for a fact she wouldn't tell a soul even if she had to hand over her own."

My mouth was left open agape. With my emotions fading back down to normal, I could properly process what he just said and what he's been saying all this time. Placing an arm around Rachel's shoulder, we stared him down together. "And you said that Mew sprained her ankle? That incident happened here at home, and she went to school and came back right after on crutches. She rarely ever used her phone because she was busy studying. No way it's possible she was dancing then and only her classmates knew about her injury. You're just her dance partner from a school out of the district. It didn't concern you at all."