IN THE PROCESS OF EDITING, READING NOT ADVISED!!

August 20th
All my life I've been waiting for this moment, yet as the blue Mazda 6 approaches, I can't help feeling scared. I try not to think of why I feel this way. It's absurd. I've been through this process far more times than most kids in the system, yet it seems like I'm the only one who can't get it right.

That's okay.

The desire to get it right, to be the perfect foster child, has long left my body. All that's left now is the determination to avenge my late parents and little brother.

I watch Robert McCain, my new foster Father, exit his vehicle. A bright smile covers his face when his eyes meet mine, and laugh lines appear around his mouth. I immediately look away, heart racing.

Atticus once said, who He had those eyes that shone with the light of 'everything will be okay.'

It's like he wrote those words for Robert specifically. The man has an air about him that claims you, makes you want to lay back. Let your guard down. The worst part? It seems natural. If I was anyone else except myself, I would believe it.

Standing with the help of the railing, I push off the airport stairs and meet Robert at the back of his car. He takes my suitcase, easily lifting it into the trunk. I whisper a quick thanks and rush into the backseat before he can start a conversation. Big mistake. His wife, who I'd overlooked in my attempt to get a feel of who Robert is, is sitting in the passenger seat. She turns slightly to look at me, a friendly smile in place.

My eyes widen as if I'm a deer caught in a headlight and my breath quickens. I can feel my palms get sweaty with every second that passes with her looking at me. Finally, as if sensing my unease, she turns back around. I can't help the breath of relief that tears through my body. I hate meeting new people.

Awkward, for Beatrice at least, silence fills the car until Robert jumps back in. Then we're speeding down the highway towards my new temporary home, the third this year. Shaking the thought off quickly, I place my face against the window and stare out at the city in front of me. Buildings and cars pass by in blurry, fast lines. Therefor a moment and then gone the next. Kinda like me.

"We're home!" Mrs. McCain, Beatrice, sings in what I'd soon come to understand is her normal voice. A mixture between high and low, it's the perfect recipe to make one smile. Melodic without effort.

The car pulls into an average driveway. The two-story house to the left of it a beautiful faded green. It has a small, plain yard in front of it and flowers of all kinds along the walls. Compared to my most recent home, it looks like a mansion. It also doesn't hurt that the houses around it look normal too, nothing shady. Thank the good Lord.

Robert stops the car and we all climb out. I walk to the back of the vehicle and meet him there. Here, he opens the little trunk and I reach in to grab my little, puke green suitcase. The color looks just as disgusting as it sounds, but I refuse to throw it away. I've had it for as long as I could remember, and have no interest in getting rid of it anytime soon. 

Beatrice opens the door to their home and Robert and I follow quietly behind. 

"Your room is on the second floor, first door." She smiles, nodding up the stairs. I flash my teeth back at her and lift my suitcase up the stairs. Stumbling into the room that's supposedly mine, I drop my suitcase on the floor and rush to the little window seat that rests a foot away from the twin bed. Pulling the blinds up, I open the window, breathing in the warm city air.

Springfield is truly a beautiful city.

Everything about it screams normal. From the people, I've just met the average houses alined in a perfect line. Acknowledging how decent it all almost sends a feeling of dread through my body. As a way to distract myself from my ever wondering thoughts, I rest my gaze on the house directly in front of me. It's a faint light yellow color. Like most of the houses here, it's two stories with a clean-cut yard. What catches my attention about the house though, isn't its simple beauty, but the guys on its driveway.

The first guy my gaze lands on has hair the color of dark earth. It's short on the sides, almost bald, and slicked back with what I assume is sweat in the front. His body is long and slim, muscular without being bulky. He wears well worn blue overalls covered in oil from the Motorcycle he's working on. The other guy has pale, almost white, blonde hair and passes guy one tools. By some horrible luck, blondie looks up in what might be my direction, instantly making me look away.

I know I wasn't doing anything wrong by staring at them, but that fact doesn't stop my heart from beating all over the place and my face from heating up.

Chill out.

I have an awful tendency for making a big deal out of nothing when it comes to people, especially guys. I take their simplest actions and, in my mind, turn them into something they usually aren't, and will never be. To me, It's like that bad habit that I can never break free from.

Grabbing my suitcase, I begin to unpack and put my things where they belong. It only takes me about fifteen minutes, as I don't have much.

I look around the little blue room, wondering if I should stay or go downstairs. Staying is the simple, preferable choice. I could relax, text Anaya, and maybe even research more about my parents. Climbing down the stairs and trying to get to know Robert and Beatrice sounds draining. Past experience hints at whatever interaction I engage in with them being painfully awkward. I bit my lip in indecision, wishing Anaya was here to make the choice for me.

But she isn't. This is your life, not hers.

Right.

Without anymore thinking, I descend the steps to the main floor. Here, Robert lays on the couch watching basketball. Throwing a quick hesitant wave his way in response to his gentle smile, I head off to the kitchen.  Beatrice hums to herself as she stirs something on the stove.

I want to ask her if she wants any help, but the words won't leave my lips. It's like my tongue is carrying a thousand pounds, too heavy for a mere mortal to lift.

No surprise. What were you expecting?

I honestly don't know the answer to my question. It's no secret that it's always hard for me to talk to my foster parents during my first couple of weeks with them. I find this so weird because after being with as many foster parents as I have, I can't even count all of them on just two hands, you'd think that I'd have gotten over my fear of the next pair somewhere along say, parent couple six?

But the truths ends up being that I haven't, hence why I'm so grateful when Beatrice saves me the trouble of opening my mouth by speaking first.

"Hi, Sweetie," She says, a small smile spreading across her pale pink lips when her eyes land on me. "It'll be five more minutes before this soup is ready."

"Um...s-should I do a-anything before that?" I stutter, mentally freaking out for what appears to be no reason.

"I was going to have Robert do it," She breathily chuckles to herself at the thought and continues, "But if you don't mind, I'd love it if you got Jace and Jaylin for me. They're just across the street at a friend's house."

I nod my head quickly to the request and start walking to the door, a smile plastered on my lips.

My stomach turns when I open the door and step onto the little porch. I physically freeze for a minute as I contemplate between getting over my fear for a second and getting the kids, or staying away from the new people by hiding inside the house.

Another minute later, and I've talked myself into choosing the former, despite what everything in me is screaming.

I cross the black road and step onto the green grass on the other side. It's dry and brittle do the season being August, and the weather usually being all sun with little rain.

Making my way to the driveway, the place the guys were messing with the motorcycle earlier, I step onto the smooth paving stones leading up to the front door.

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Hey peoples! Thanks for reading:) Sorry, it's been so boring so far. Please vote, comment, and share if you liked this chapter!

Lots of love,
Liv❤️

DP: Jul.4.17
WC: 1,445