UN-RELATED (UN-RELATED SERIES)

by Kimberly Schwartzmiller

  This is a mature young adult novel. It is recommended for 17+ due to sensitive subject material and sexual situations.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead; events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Copyright © 2014 by Kimberly Schwartzmiller.

  About the author:

  Kimberly Schwartzmiller is a wife, a mother of two, and a Labor and Delivery Nurse living in Northwest Montana with her family and a plethora of pets. An avid reader as well as a writer, she spends many late hours at the computer.

  Other Books by Kimberly Schwartzmiller

  Parker’s Island

  Conviction (Interference Series 1 of 2)

  Exoneration (Interference Series 2 of 2)

  My Life as a Teenage Prostitute

  Table of Contents

  PROLOGUE

  MY PARENT’S

  FOSTER PARENT’S

  I DON’T LIKE NEEDLES!

  KELLAN’S LAST YEAR AT THE FILBERT’S

  ALL ALONE

  KELLAN’S HOME!

  MORE CHANGES

  CONFESSIONS

  TYLER

  LECTURES FROM KELLAN

  MY LAST DITCH EFFORT

  SAYING GOODBYE SUCKS!

  BREAKING UP IS HARD TO DO!

  A HARD PROMISE TO KEEP

  DATING KELLAN

  THE BEACH

  I THOUGHT STIRRUPS BELONGED ON A SADDLE

  MY BIRTHDAY

  UN-RELATED

  (Un-Related Series Book 1 of 2)

  PROLOGUE

  I won’t do it! You can’t make me!” I screamed, foolishly trying to stand up to her.

  “I can make you, and believe me; you will do as I say! If you even think of defying me, you’ll regret it, and so will he!” Nancy warned me with a look that said not to mess with her.

  I sat down and looked away, trying to calm down and gather my thoughts so that I could figure out what to do. I slowly looked up at my foster mother and took a deep breath and said, “Okay, you’re right, it’s the only thing to do. I’ll have the abortion.”

  That was the day I ran…

  MY PARENT’S

  Their names were Bret and Virginia Shepard. They were my parents and as is standard with most eight year old girls, I was in love with my father, and I had him wrapped around my little finger. My mom wasn’t as easily taken in by what I assumed to be my ‘powers’ over my father, but she was a push-over in her own way.

  They were wonderful parents and loved me unconditionally. But on the way to the zoo for a family outing, and on the very day they informed me that I was going to finally have a baby brother; a truck broadsided us and the only survivor…yours truly.

  This is where my story begins. Up to that point, my life was…normal; although, as the years go by, the definition of ‘normal’ becomes less clear. But, I thought they were normal. They were good, kind and loving parents who provided me with a home, clothes, food and all the toys that would fit into my room which was located just down the hall from theirs. They kissed me goodnight, read me stories, helped me with my homework and basically gave in to my every desire and whim. Okay, so I was spoiled…and I loved it! However, that ended the day my parents were taken from me…and instead of parents who doted on me, giving me everything I asked for, I was handed a set of parents that looked good on the outside, and they fooled me for a while, but I was soon to learn that not all parents are created equal…

  FOSTER PARENT’S

  The first couple of years that I spent with the Filbert’s were pretty much uneventful. I went to school and I came home. I wasn’t allowed to have friends over, and I wasn’t allowed to go to their homes, either. I was bored and lonely, and I missed my parents more than I could have imagined. I longed for the days of laughing and playing with my father, and cooking with my mother. I had accepted my fate, because even though I missed my family terribly, I knew that they would want me to go on and to make a life for myself.

  I was basically an outcast at school. While most kids had new clothes and name brand shoes, I wore clothes from second-hand stores and hand-me-down’s that Nancy acquired from friends. I accepted this, too. I didn’t question anything. I just went along with what was handed to me, knowing that someday, I would once again have a loving family.

  I was ten years old when Nancy and Joe told me that they were taking in another foster child. His name was Kellan, and he was 14 years old…

  “You always wanted a brother, Abby, so what’s the problem?” my foster mom snapped.

  “I want my baby brother…not an older one,” I whined. I knew as soon as I said it, I was in trouble. I wasn’t allowed to whine, talk back, make noise, or do any of the things normal ten year olds got to do. So, I knew I was in for it the second I opened my mouth.

  “Well, we don’t always get what we want in life, young lady. And it’s time you learned that very important lesson!”

  I don’t know what possessed me, but I found myself spouting off and saying, “I know all about not getting what I want! I certainly didn’t want to lose my parent’s or my baby brother and I sure didn’t want to come here and live with you!”

  “Well, we can certainly change that. The group home on second street could be your new home, if you want?” she dared me to challenge her, knowing I was terrified of being sent to a home.

  I backed down and said, “No, I’m sorry. I like it here, I do. I’ll be good.”

  I was sent to my room for the rest of the day to think about ‘how lucky I was to even have a home.’

  But, I still had it in my mind to hate him the second he showed up. I didn’t want an older brother. I wanted a younger one, the one I was promised by my parents. I knew I was fighting a losing battle, but I also knew that I didn’t want to have anything to do with him, so I hid the second I heard Joe walk through the door with ‘him.’

  A couple of hours later I heard Nancy yelling for me, “Abby, come meet your new brother.” She called for me in her nicest, sweetest voice, as if she really cared whether I met him or not. She was playing the ‘nice foster parent’, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before the new boy figured it out. But, I certainly wasn’t going to tell him; let him find it out on his own.

  “ABIGAIL! Come here right now!” Nancy finally yelled when she didn’t get an immediate response from me.

  I knew I’d better go, so I slowly walked down the hall and turned the corner. He was older than me alright, about five or six years older than me by the looks of him, although they told me he was only 14.

  “Abby, meet your new brother, Kellan. Kellan, this is your new little sister, Abby.”

  “She’s not my sister. I don’t have a sister,” was all he said and turned away from me.

  “Well, I don’t want you, either!’

  “Well, then we should get along just fine!” he shouted, obviously not happy about being at the Filbert’s home any more than I was.

  So, that’s how it started. Our introduction was a disaster and our next encounter wasn’t any better. We all sat down to dinner together that first night, ‘as a family,’ Nancy said.

  “So, Kellan, tell us about yourself,” Nancy asked, still trying to convince him that she not only cared, but was interested in anything he had to say.

  “Nothing to tell,” he said, sullenly.

  “Well, there must be something you can tell us about yourself?” Nancy pushed.

  “I can tell you that I don’t like to talk!” he snapped, and pushed his plate away, refusing to even try Nancy’s spe
cial ‘chicken pot pie.’

  I looked at Nancy’s face and the anger was as apparent as Rudolph’s red nose. I started to smile, but stopped before Nancy glanced my way. Kellan didn’t miss my humor, however, and glared at me, “What are you laughing at?”

  “Nothing! I’m not laughing.”

  “You were smiling! What’s so funny?” he snapped.

  All eyes were suddenly on me and I knew at that moment that I would never like him, ever! “I’m not smiling. I just, I was…”

  “Go to your room, I’ll deal with you, later,” Nancy glared and pointed down the hall.

  So, that was it, the feud was on. From that moment on, I vowed to do everything in my power to make his life miserable, and, I can honestly say, I did a pretty good job…

  The first couple of years were spent in a constant battle. I made Kellan angry on a daily basis, and he, in turn, spent every waking moment trying to make my life miserable by getting me in trouble with Nancy.

  We had grown accustomed to fighting, and it just seemed a daily part of life at the Filbert’s house. So much so in fact, that our fights started to affect Nancy and Joe’s relationship, throwing them into a constant battle of their own.

  On one particular day, I can remember Joe yelling at Nancy, “You’re the one that wanted those stupid kids! Just shut them up!”

  “I would love to, but as you can tell, they don’t listen to me!”

  “They better start listening, and soon, because I’ve had enough of their constant bickering!”

  The fight continued for over an hour and then we were both called into the living room for a ‘foster family meeting.’

  Joe had left, heading to his favorite bar or coffee shop. I wasn’t sure exactly where he went, but the look on Nancy’s face left no doubt that we were both in big trouble.

  “I’m going to say this once, and only once! If you two don’t start getting along, you’re both going to be sent away!”

  “Where?” I asked, never being one that could keep quiet.

  “I don’t really care…just away! I won’t let you two brats ruin my marriage! Got it?” she spat.

  I looked up at her and knew she was serious, dead serious.

  “Why do you keep us here, anyway?” Kellan asked, daring her to finally admit it.

  “I wanted to give deserving children a good home. But, you two have proven ‘un-deserving,’ so keep it up, and see what happens!” she threatened with obvious intent.

  “That’s not it! You just want the money the state gives you for us each month. You don’t care about us, you never did. Send us away, I dare you!” he said, standing tall and proud at 16.

  I, however, just turned 12, and nowhere near the legal age, so I chimed in, “I don’t want to leave. I’ll be good. I’ll be nice to Kellan now, I promise.”

  “That’s more like it! Kellan, you should listen to your sister!”

  “For the last time, she’s not my sister! Stop calling her that!”

  The fight continued, and after about 45 minutes of Nancy and Kellan yelling at each other, and me standing in the corner, looking terrified; I noticed he looked over at me for a minute, his eyes turning from black ash to their normal pale blue. He stared at me for a minute and finally turned back to Nancy and said, “Okay, you win. I’ll be good. No more fights.”

  I don’t know what made him say it, but all I could think of was that I still had a home. He looked over at me and said, “Truce?”

  I was shaking, still terrified to be sent away, possibly to somewhere worse, so I only managed a nod, but it was enough. Nancy finally backed down and said, “Good, glad to hear it! Now, both of you go find something to do, quietly!”

  I went back to my room and sat on my bed. I was shaking; still afraid I was going to be sent away. Nancy had told me horror stories of group homes and other foster families where the children were locked up and beaten, and even though I was no longer eight years old, the memories and the images she instilled in my head were very vivid and brought to the forefront of my mind whenever the subject of being sent away was brought up.

  I wasn’t one to cry, but this time I found myself very worried about being sent away. I was going to do my best to stay away from Kellan from now on.

  “Are you okay?” he asked from my doorway.

  “What are you doing in my room?” I asked, immediately ready for our usual fight, and then remembered our truce, “Sorry. I didn’t mean it.” I looked away, not wanting him to see my tears.

  “May I come in?” he asked.

  “Yeah, sure,” I said, wiping my eyes.

  “Why are you crying?”

  “I’m not crying!” I lied, and sniffled.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I looked at him, stunned, “For what?” I asked.

  “For making it worse for you. I only have a little over a year left here in this hell-hole, and sometimes I forget that you’ve not only been here longer, but you still have another six years to go.”

  This did nothing to make me feel better, and suddenly I was sobbing.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean…I’m sorry,” he said and sat down next to me on my bed.

  “Just go away. Please!” I started to yell, but caught myself. “Please?” I whispered, just wanting him to leave me to my misery.

  Kellan stood up and started to leave. “I meant what I said. I’d like to be friends, okay?”

  “You don’t really mean that.”

  “Yes, I do. I promise I’ll be nicer to you. I don’t hate you. I just hate this house and…them!”

  “Well, like you said, you get to leave them in a little over a year, but I’m stuck here for another six years.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Why do you care all of a sudden, anyway?”

  He stopped at the door and said, “I told you, I don’t hate you. You’re as trapped as I am.”

  I turned away from him and whispered, “No, it’s way worse for me.”

  He quietly closed the door, leaving me to my misery.

  The next few weeks brought a sudden calm, and everyone in the house noticed it. The mood was much brighter and definitely less tense. I actually found Kellan to be less irritating and occasionally he turned out to be a bit funny.

  We started hanging out a bit more and he turned out to be a huge help with my homework. I hated school, and I never felt that I fit in or was good enough. I was slow to catch on and struggled with almost all of my subjects. Math was the worst…

  “No, you times the number by itself to square it,” Kellan said for the fourth time that afternoon.

  Kellan was smart, very smart. He just caught on to every subject and ran with it. Most of the time he made me feel really stupid. He didn’t try to, but I struggled with almost every subject while he sailed through all of them with ease.

  I’m never going to get this, so you might as well give up. I’m stupid and I always will be!”

  “Stop that, you are not stupid! You’re much smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

  “I’ll never be as smart as you. You don’t even have to try!”

  “That’s not true. I want out of here, Abby, so I work very hard to get perfect grades. I want a scholarship to get a degree so I can make a lot of money and never look back…”

  He stopped short when he saw the look on my face. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I’ll still come to see you, but I won’t miss them, any of them!”

  “What do you mean any of them?”

  “I’ve been in and out of foster homes since I was four years old. Some were better than others, but most the time I couldn’t wait to leave. I just want my freedom.”

  “What happened to your parents?” I knew he wouldn’t want to talk about it, but I was curious.

  “I don’t know who my father is. My birth certificate doesn’t name a father, only my mother. She gave me up when I was four. Drugs were more important to her than an illegitimate son.”

  I looked down, not sure what to say
.

  “Don’t feel sorry for me.”

  “You’re going to leave soon, aren’t you?” I asked, the tears welling up in my eyes.

  “No, not for over a year.”

  “But, you’re graduating next June, and then you’ll be gone.”

  “I’ll be back to visit you…I promise.”

  “No you won’t. You’ll leave and never look back…and I don’t blame you.”

  “That’s not true, Abby. I swear I’ll come to see you. We may not be related by blood, but you’re still my little sister.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Okay, but we are friends, and we always will be: that I can promise you.”

  He stood up and started to head toward his room, “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “I have a date. We’re going to the movies.”

  “A date? Does Nancy know?”

  “No, and I’m not telling her. It’s none of her business.”

  “You’re going to get into trouble.”

  “It’ll be worth it,” he smiled.

  I didn’t know why, but I didn’t like the idea of him going out with anyone, especially a girl. I followed him down the hall and continued, “You don’t drive…or have a car. How are you going to take her to the movies?”

  “She has a car, and she’s going to pick me up in about 15 minutes.”

  “Oh. Where are you going to tell them you’re going?”

  “I’m not telling them anything. I’m old enough to date, and believe me, this girl’s worth whatever punishment they throw at me. Besides, I’ll be back before they even know I’m gone. She’ll be here in a few minutes. Would you let her in for me while I grab a quick shower?”

  I started to sulk, but then thought better to offend my only true friend, so I said, “Yeah, sure.”

  I waited in the living room for a few minutes and finally heard a small knock on the door.

  “Hi, is Kellan here?” a beautiful girl with long dark hair, tight jeans and a lot of perfume asked.