We were studying History for a change, supposedly quizzing each other on the Korean war but mostly goofing off and chatting about random stuff. We'd made it to the battle of Inchon when Kaiden's hand slid onto my thigh. The palm of his hand was warm as he caressed the gap between my tall socks and the little plaid Tripp skirt I'd scored at Thriftporium on a 75% off sale after Halloween. I looked at him, lips parted in anticipation of a quiz question. His lips were like liquid fire as he kissed me while his hand stealthily crept under my skirt. I grabbed his hand and he pulled back with a little questioning smirk. Just in time.

Mrs. Faragut, the librarian, popped her head around the stacks to peer in on us. In her mid-thirties, she liked to dress in dresses from the 1950s and had the ends of her hair dyed purple in an attempt to be relatable or something. She even had little cat eye reading glasses slung around her neck.

"You kids okay back here? Wi-Fi working okay now?"

"Yes, Mrs. Faragut," Kaiden and I said in chorus.

"So, Inchon," Kaiden said as Mrs. Faragut gave us an encouraging smile and vanished again. As soon as she was gone, he started kissing his way up my neck.

"It was bad?"

"You're bad," he growled into my ear as he tried to slide his hand between my uncooperative thighs.

"Mrs. Faragut is right over there," I whispered, gesturing with a head nod.

"Okay," he took a deep breath and blew it out, ruffling the ends of my hair. He put both hands flat on the table on either side of the textbook we were sharing, examining me with a smoldering gaze that made me shiver.

He kissed me again, slow and sweet this time, hands sliding through my hair and down my shoulders. I relaxed into him a bit, inhaling the scent of his Old Spice, something piney like Kim's Werewolf but without the doggy undertones. When he pulled away, my mouth and more were tingling. His eyes were dark and huge, full of an insistence I didn't quite understand.

"Kaiden! I've never done this stuff before."

"Come on, Kelsey. You know you want to." His hand crept back up my thigh as he nibbled my neck again.

I rocketed to my feet when he tried to slide his fingers inside my panties, banging my legs on the table and stumbling back, away from him, the table, everything. Mark Simmons' drunk, angry face flashed across my memory. I stumbled another step backward into the dark, still place in my head that was my secret haven. Strong, soothing hands guided me back to my chair. Somewhere at the edge of consciousness, I could hear the small bleeps of texting noises. Shortly after, Gaby's voice sounded somewhere nearby, soft at first and then arguing with Kaiden.

The world started to come back into focus as Mrs. Faragut came to shush Gaby's increasingly strident tones.

"Oh dear. She looks really bad. Is she prone to migraines? Can you make it to the nurse's office, dear?" Mrs. Faragut asked as she leaned forward and tried to peer into my face through the curtain of my mussed hair.

Kaiden smoothed my hair back. "I think she's a little light-headed. I can walk her down to the nurse." His face was bleak as petted my hair some more.

"I'll take her," Gaby said, her voice as cold as a winter draft.

"I'm fine," I blurted.

I grabbed my bag and stood again. This time my feet were ready for flight. I made it most of the way down the hall before Gaby caught me and dragged me into the girl's restroom.

"Do I need to punch Kaiden in the head for you?"

"What? No! Why would you think that?"

Gaby grabbed me and turned me to the mirror. I had lipstick all over my face and the beginnings of a hickey behind my right ear. With a silent glare, she handed me a paper towel to deal with the lipstick while she gathered my hair into a low side pony to cover the hickey.

"He's way out of your league, Kel. Don't let him push you into doing stuff you're not ready for, okay? What happened back there? Why were you fugueing? I haven't seen you like that since 8th grade. It's got to be Kaiden's fault. He got handsy or something, didn't he?" She scowled at me in the mirror.

"I..." I swallowed hard and bought myself a little time by dragging out my lipgloss. "I had a flashback, is all."

"Okay," Gaby replied with a huff. She narrowed her eyes, drowned in rainbow butterfly eyeshadow, at me. "Care to share what this supposed flashback was about?"

"I can't." Our eyes met in the mirror. "State school, remember?"

Her face was full of speculation. "Okay. You're off the hook for now. If you start fugueing again regularly though, you're going to have to talk to the counselor. Promise?"

"Promise," I agreed.

But really I'd rather go straight to H-E- double toothpicks than discuss Mark Simmons with anybody, ever. I hoped I hadn't blown things with Kaiden. We wouldn't have any more alone time until Monday at the earliest.

When I got home after theater practice, Ann Simmons was lying in wait for me.

"Kelsey! We need to talk."

She gestured at me to sit at the kitchen bar, then shoved a bottle of water across the counter at me. She took a long drink of hers, watching me over the end of the bottle as she drank. "The school called. Said you had a migraine or something. I think you're not staying properly hydrated. Be sure to drink at least eight refills of this bottle every day. We can't have you coming down with something."

"Yes Mrs. Simmons," I said after dutifully slugging back half the water.

"But anyhow, that isn't what I wanted to talk to you about. I have two items on the agenda for you," she said. She smiled a tight little smile made all the grimmer by her beige "nude" lipstick.

I drank more water while she consulted her phone.

"First, Mary Beth says you have a date for the Winter Social. Congratulations! Toby Stone is a nice boy. I knew my cabbage soup diet would help you. But I hope you realize that the foster care stipend won't cover the costs of a formal dress." Ann's smile drooped. "We actually already spend much more on you than we get from the stipend. We can't afford to buy formals for three girls. It's ridiculous what you girls think you need to wear to these dances."

"Maybe I can get something from Thriftporium," I said. This had been my plan all along, but it would be easier with Ann's endorsement.

"I've already stopped by and picked out a selection for you to choose from. Mel has strict instructions not to let you get anything that isn't from my collection," Ann said. "We can't have you looking immodest."

"Yes ma'am," I replied, while I seethed at this hijacking of my dress plans. "Could I refill my water, please?" Anything to hide my terrible facial expression from Ann's scrutiny. My face still felt stiff from the fugue. As I refilled the water bottle from the spigot with the in-line filter, Ann flipped through her phone agenda.

"Now, next, and more importantly, Cindy and Fred Crompton want you for Thanksgiving dinner. I've discussed it with Mark, and we've agreed to lend you to them."

"Lend me?" I asked while I tried to remember who these people were.

"Yes, yes. They need to learn how to minister to the unfortunate. You'll be the perfect Thanksgiving dinner guest for them to practice some Christian charity on. Good Lord knows they need all the practice they can get over there at Second Baptist. I've of course informed Cindy of your diet." Ann tittered. "I hear Cindy puts on quite a huge feast and invites all sorts. Most of the folks will be from the better side of town, so you won't know anyone there. It will be good for you to mingle and show everyone what a good job we've done with you." She leaned back and squinted at me. "I think you'll be presentable enough."

"Is Kim going too?"

"No. Kim is going to the," Ann stopped and glanced over her shoulder as if she feared eavesdroppers, then whispered, "she's going to the prison to have dinner with her father."

"You can't make her do that!" I blurted without thinking. But if I knew anything about Kim, I knew that she didn't want to spend any time at all with her dad. Her dad who had killed her mom.

"It's not up to us, sweetie," Ann said. She stood up from her seat at the bar and brushed down her red cashmere cardigan. "It's a court-mandated visit. I don't want her eating dinner with a murderer either, even if he is her father."

"Sorry," I mumbled because even if Ann was being semi-nice, she'd expect an apology from me for speaking out when I shouldn't.

"It's okay, Kelsey. You're a good friend to Kim, but she's got to fight her own battles. We'll pray for her, shall we?" Ann's face crumpled into concern. "Or whatever it is you Wiccans do."

"We pray too," I replied, though I had no idea. I still hadn't found time to read through Wicca for Teenagers.

"Good, good. You do that then," Ann said as she waved me out of her kitchen and downstairs to my more proper location in foster kid lair. Home sweet hovel for the next six months.

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