by Sara Alva
I looked over to make sure Seb was watching me in my triumph.
He was.
~*~
“Okay, seriously?” Laloni gripped her eraser and began violently smudging out my sentence. “Basic subject-verb agreement.”
I tilted my chair back, resting it on the bookshelf behind me. I’d have snapped at her for giving me attitude, but the school librarian had already shushed me several times. Personally, I didn’t think the rules for being quiet in a library should’ve applied after school. If I was willing to give up my free time to be in a freaking library, I should’ve been able to speak as loud as I damn well pleased.
“Don’t even know what you’re talking about,” I said through clenched teeth.
She heaved a sigh. “I’m talking about…I don’t, you don’t, but he or she doesn’t.”
I arched a brow at her.
“He doesn’t support his argument, not he don’t support it.” She stabbed my paper with the eraser.
I knew that, vaguely—the same way I knew about double negatives—but I forgot sometimes.
“Whatever.” I crossed my arms. “You talk like that too, you know.”
“Sure, I talk like that…but I don’t write like that. English don’t work that way.”
She grinned, and I eventually unfolded my arms. She was trying not to get too annoyed with me, I realized. And she was doing me a favor. I probably owed her a bit more effort.
“Fine.” I picked up my pencil and rewrote the sentence. “It just gets hard keeping it straight.”
Tapping her chin, she looked up thoughtfully. “Hmm. Think of it like…you’re writing in a foreign language. You speak Spanish, but you wouldn’t go around writing essays for class in Spanish, would you?”
“Actually”—I cringed—“my Spanish is not that great.”
She laughed. “Of course it’s not. What are you good at, Alex?”
Ouch. That kind of hurt. I dropped my pencil on the table and stared down at the blue carpet. “I was perfectly good at my old life before I had to deal with all this fucking bullshit.”
A very unlady-like snort emerged from Laloni. “God, what is it with you people.”
“Who’re you calling you people?” I shot back.
The librarian looked up sharply. “Quiet, please.”
Rolling her eyes, Laloni continued in a low voice. “I meant foster kids. I don’t get why it is you’re so pissed someone wants to take care of you…why you always want to go back.”
“Um, because it was my life.” Obviously.
“Your life, huh?” Laloni grinned evilly. “Well let’s see. Where you from?”
Something about that look on her face made me feel like I was about to walk into a trap. “Watts.”
“Watts.” She nodded slowly. “The most ghetto part of the ghetto. What do you got back there that’s so great? Why would anyone want to stay in Watts?”
At one time, the answer to that question would’ve been my family. But I couldn’t say that anymore.
“I had my friends.”
“Right. Really great friends that you’ve kept in touch with.”
Fuck. Brandon had probably told her I never spoke to anyone. And I bet I could have, if I’d really wanted to. But I hadn’t.
“Whatever.” I hoped that brush-off would inspire her to drop the topic.
It didn’t.
“What, you were in a gang there or something?”
I huffed. “No, but I had an in if I wanted it.”
“And did you?”
Stalling, I watched two studious-looking kids with glasses gather up a pile of books from a nearby table and leave.
“Well, no. Not really. I dealt a little on the side, just to friends. And only weed.”
Laloni shook her head. “That’s what you want to go back to?”
I closed my eyes for a moment, battling the feeling of emptiness that had suddenly overwhelmed me.
“Hey.” She tapped my hand with her pencil. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to attack you. And it’s not just you. Brandon wants to go back, too.”
I looked over and saw the fear in her eyes, and realized yet again the world didn’t revolve around me.
“I thought he said his mom was gonna go to rehab so she’d be able to take care of him.”
“Yeah.” Laloni’s tone sharpened with sarcasm. “Don’t suppose he mentioned it’d be her fourth try.”
“Oh.” I rested my head in my hand, propping myself up with an elbow. “No, he didn’t. Actually, I don’t really know much about anyone in the house.”
“Too busy being all sorry for yourself,” she responded.
She really did walk the line between halfway decent girl and total bitch a little too frequently.
“Well, since you seem to know everything, why don’t you fill me in?”
“Sure.” She shrugged. “Whaddaya wanna know?”
“Uh…” I paused to think it over. “Well, what about Ryan? I know his brother was shot.”
“Yup.” She nodded. “It was a gang thing. His brother was the one who was really taking care of him before that, so afterwards…well, you know. Wound up in foster care.”
“Oh.” Poor kid. “And Andrew?”
“Basic neglect. No food, no clean clothes…his mom didn’t even send him to school.”
That seemed strange. I was pretty sure my mom had enjoyed the freedom she’d gotten when I was in school as a kid.
“Okay. Dwayne?”
She hesitated, narrowing her eyes. “If I tell you, you better not say nothing.”
“I won’t.”
After taking a few more seconds to decide, she leaned closer to whisper in my ear. “Sexual abuse. Not him, though—an uncle who lived with him did something to his sister. But they removed every kid from the house, just in case.”
Shit. I was sort of regretting asking for all this information. It’d be hard to see any of them as just annoying jerks ever again.
“You didn’t ask about Ms. Loretta or Ms. Cecily,” Laloni pointed out.
“Oh, yeah.” I hadn’t thought about them. What exactly did they get out of running a home for fucked-over boys?
“Well, Ms. Cecily is an old spinster, but Ms. Loretta was married and had a son.”
“What happened to them?”
“Car accident. When the baby was like only a year old.”
Jesus. What a house of misery. And yet…no one really seemed all that miserable, except for me. And Seb, maybe. I’d never really seen him looking happy.
“What about Seb?”
Laloni reached up to retie a bow in her hair. “Him I don’t know much about, besides the fact that he’s, you know, special…he’s sixteen, and he can’t talk. I bet he was abandoned. Lots of special needs kids are abandoned.”
Abandoned. My chest tightened.
“So anyways, are we gonna give this another go?” She yawned, glancing over at the wall clock. “I really should get home soon.”
I looked down at my essay and found the words swimming in front of my eyes.
Abandoned. Like me?
“Well?”
I blinked, and the world came back into focus. On the table was a relatively simple paper waiting to be written; next to me was a girl waiting to help.
“Yeah.” I picked up my pencil. “Yeah. Why not.”
Chapter 10: Quick Thinking
I faced Suzie in the living room, sitting cross-legged in the upholstered chair while she leaned back on the orange couch.
“It’s really good to get a chance to talk to you this evening,” she said.
I ducked my head so she couldn’t see my flushing cheeks. All right, so I’d been a brat for a while, but I was ready to start getting over it.
“I spoke to some of the teachers at your school,” she continued. “They said your grades are showing improvement.”
“Yeah.” Was there a little bit of pride in my voice? “I been staying after to get some help on stuff.”
“That�
��s really excellent, Alex.”
It wasn’t so excellent I needed the help in the first place, but I knew what she meant.
“And how are things going here, overall?”
“Um…” I picked at the dirt under my nails. “Pretty good, I guess. Ms. Loretta still gets mad when I don’t dust good enough, but other than that…um, I guess we’re all getting along.”
Suzie smiled warmly. “That’s what Ms. Loretta said. I heard even Sebastian’s been doing better…getting out of the room more.”
I hid my grin by scratching my chin with my shoulder.
“Well, is there anything you need? Anything I could help you with right now?”
Bypassing the crucial topic—for the time being—I went to the next most important thing. “Shoes.”
“I’m sorry?” Suzie leaned forward, straightening a faded brown suit jacket.
Jesus, that woman needed some serious fashion help.
“New shoes.” I gestured to the Keds I still wore. “Sneakers. A good pair of sneakers.”
“Oh.” She laughed her polite white-lady laugh. “Well, I’ll see what I can do about that. Anything else?”
I wasn’t sure why she was prodding me. I almost didn’t want to say anything, because talking about it just pulled back the thin layer of insulation I’d built up to keep from thinking about it every second of every day. But Suzie continued to look at me expectantly, and I cracked.
“You haven’t heard from my mom, have you.”
“No.” She shook her head, her voice growing softer. “You know I’d tell you as soon as I’d heard anything.”
“Yeah.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, then let my hand spread out to cover my eyes. “I know.”
Little explosions of white dotted the black canvas of my closed lids. I watched them for a time, working up the composure to speak again.
“Maybe…maybe she just doesn’t know where I am?”
“It’s possible, I suppose. But it wouldn’t be that hard to find out.”
And even though Suzie’s lips clamped shut after that, I heard what remained unspoken: It wouldn’t have been that hard to find out, if she’d wanted to.
Abandoned.
“I’m sorry, Alex.” Suzie’s voice dropped near a whisper.
She always said that. She was sorry. Everyone was sorry…except for my mother.
“Okay.” I hit my thighs, using the impact to jolt me from a gathering cloud of dark thoughts. “You probably gotta get going, right? It’s late.”
Suzie frowned, and I felt a tug of guilt. But whatever, this was more than she’d gotten out of me in ages. She should’ve been grateful.
“All right, Alex. I’ll talk to you sometime next week.”
“Yeah, bye.”
I stayed there as she gathered up her belongings and left. She always spoke to me last, since I was probably her toughest nut to crack—although with what I knew now about everyone else in the house, I didn’t really have a right to be.
But maybe they’d all been like me, once. Maybe it was a process.
Dwayne and Brandon scrambled into the living room as soon as she was gone. They jumped over the back of the couch and began an immediate scuffle for control of the remote.
“You had it yesterday!” Brandon protested, working to pry Dwayne’s impressively strong fingers from the device.
Dwayne held on tighter. “I am sick and tired of watching that CW crap!”
“Give it to me or I’ll tell Alex your favorite channel is the cooking channel!”
“I watched one show, one time, ’cause they was making ribs, so shut the f—…shut the you-know-what up!”
I should’ve laughed at that. Or at least smirked. Dwayne trying to censor his language while defending his honor was obviously a funny sight, but I couldn’t get into the right mood. Not so soon after talking to Suzie.
They both turned to me, as if they’d suddenly realized I was in the room—probably because I usually wasn’t.
“Maybe we should let Alex choose,” Brandon said slowly, his eyes sliding over to Dwayne.
Fully prepared for one of Dwayne’s snide remarks, I geared up to force out a retort, even though all I really wanted to do was hole up somewhere and not talk to anyone for as long as humanly possible.
“Fine.”
The remote sailed over and landed in my lap.
Startled, I lifted it cautiously, like it might suddenly come to life and bite me. I looked up at them and caught the tail end of a silent expressions-only conversation that seemed to indicate they’d both agreed not to mess with me—at least for tonight.
Seriously?
They must’ve felt sorry for me, too. As much crap as they’d been through, at least their families hadn’t just up and abandoned them.
They felt sorry for me. I knew something wasn’t right with that picture.
“Nah.” I stood and left the remote on the chair behind me. “Not up for TV tonight…but I’d pick whichever channel has the hottest chicks.”
Three seconds after I left they both sprang up and dove for the control, beginning round two of their playful fight.
Needing time alone, I headed upstairs. Ms. Loretta was reading a bedtime story to the boys, and as I passed by to enter my room, she looked up briefly. Even in her eyes I saw pity.
That was very nearly the last straw.
It made me want to scream. Scream in her face, scream at Brandon and Dwayne, scream at Suzie…hell, scream at anyone in earshot. My life wasn’t that bad! It hadn’t been that bad, that is, up until the point I realized I was…disposable.
I collapsed onto my bed, my feet knocking against the duffel bag I’d stashed underneath it. I still kept most of my personal clothes in there. I wanted to have them all packed up so that when it was time to go, I could make a quick exit. But with each passing day, that possibility seemed less and less realistic, and the worst part…the worst part was…
A streetlamp flickered outside. I looked through the window and caught a glimpse of something out in the backyard.
Seb.
Even in the dark, I could see his skin had started to take on a bronze hue, now that he had a bit more contact with the sun. The color looked good on him.
It wasn’t really a night to be outside, though. It was foggy and unusually cool, and it might’ve even been drizzling.
Taking my jacket and a sweater for Seb, I headed back downstairs. I didn’t even think about the cigarettes.
“Hey.” I met him behind the shed. “Were you waiting for me out here? It’s kinda cold.”
It wasn’t actually raining, but the mist hung so heavily in the air that I could feel the moisture against my skin.
I draped the sweater over his shoulders and sat next to him. “Suzie was here, you know. That’s why I didn’t come out earlier.”
He reached down to pick a few pieces of grass that had sprouted in a previously empty patch of dirt, then looked up at me expectantly.
“She…she still hasn’t heard anything from my mom.”
And in my head I added: she might never hear anything.
“Guess this means I should go ahead and unpack my stuff, huh? Might be staying a while.”
I was trying for a light-hearted attitude, but I was pretty sure I was failing. Seb looked almost concerned, and if my voice and facial expressions were making a retarded kid who didn’t understand me concerned, there was probably an issue.
“I wish I’d thought to bring more important stuff from my house, ya know? Like, maybe pictures or something.”
Not that there were all that many, but I’d had a few in my dresser. And I knew my mom kept hers in her nightstand drawer—some of Mimi as a baby, and several of the two of us together after I’d been born.
“All I have left of my home now is shorts and t-shirts…and a jacket or two. Just things.” I sighed, trying to release the weariness that had snuck up behind my anger.
Seb tilted his body toward me and the sweater fell off his right shoulde
r.
As I fixed it for him, the show of control abandoned me. “Seb…do you think…” I had to stop and swallow the lump of emotion that got in the way. “Do you think she…she doesn’t want me back?”
He moved again, making it hard to get the sweater to stay in place.
“Or m-maybe…maybe she knows where I am, and she thinks I’m…better off?”
Better off. That was it. That was what was worse than the thought of being abandoned by my mother—the fact that somewhere, deep down, I was starting to wonder if I might not be better off.
And in truth, I probably was…in more than one sense.
Seb was kneeling now, directly in front of me, his black eyes shining from the light of the nearby streetlamps and the aura of the fog. His hair shone, too—it was starting to look more golden than ashen. The sun really was doing wonders for him.
I bit my lip and looked away. “I wasn’t really a good kid. Got in trouble…got bad grades…drank…did drugs…”
Jesus, why would she want me back?
“And, well…there’s something else, too.”
The fog was so dense now I could barely see a few feet in front of me. I figured that was why Seb’s eyes wouldn’t stop shining. And if mine were shining, too…well, then that explained it.
Maybe it was the eerie weather, or maybe it was just because I was so damn tired of thinking about all of this, but whatever the reason, I suddenly found myself wanting to get everything off my chest…so it could be swallowed up by the silence of the night, and by the silence that was Seb.
“Seb…do…do you know what a gay person is?”
I nearly stopped breathing as soon as the words were out, but when he didn’t react I felt my heart rate slowly returning to normal.
“Do you think they’re…messed up? Like, maybe something went wrong when they were inside their mothers. You know, the way it went wrong with you?”
Not that it mattered. Whatever happened had happened, and I didn’t believe there was any real way to fix it.
Seb lowered his eyes.
