“Clearly,” Trudy says, unimpressed.
Angela looks like death. Her eye is bruised and swollen, her face is sunken in, and her skin is a dull color.
Trudy lays into her as soon as she sits down. “You’re on probation. And if you do anything, anything at all that violates the conditions of your foster care agreement, these kids will be swooped up off you before you can so much as blink. I will be back daily to check on you for the next few weeks. Is that understood?”
Angela looks even worse, if possible. But I can’t comprehend what she just said. We aren’t going anywhere? They aren’t taking us off them? After everything I just told her?
I was both relieved and frustrated. “What’s happening to Darren?”
“He’s being held down at the station. He has a court appearance tomorrow, and if convicted, he’ll be locked up. If not, he’ll be released.”
I swallow back the lump in my throat. As soon as Trudy leaves, Angela scowls at me, but I hold her stare. If she dare tries anything right now, I’m not afraid to stick up for myself and the kids. I must be convincing because she backs off and storms out of the room.
It’s eleven o’clock in the morning. I need to calm myself down and the only thing that can do that is the cello. I have to go to school.
I peer into the lounge and see Angela curled up on the sofa with Molly and Phoebe, watching cartoons.
“I’m going to school. I have my phone if you need me.”
At least with Trudy stopping by now, she can’t do drugs. Maybe she’d actually do her job and look after them.
Kingsley
English comes and goes, and she doesn’t show up. I have Bio next, and she has chemistry. She usually practices during that class, so I make my way to the music room, and she still isn’t there. I’m starting to get paranoid.
I can’t concentrate in Bio. When lunch finally comes, I rush back to the music room, and as soon as I hear that familiar sound, everything inside of me eases.
The door is unlocked. I quietly enter. This is the hardest I’ve ever seen her play. It’s intense but amazing. There’s no way I’ll be able to keep up with her, so I lean against the wall and watch her. When she finally stops and opens her eyes, I’m up and moving towards her before she can even sit back in her seat.
Her eyes are bloodshot and dark rings sag below them. Not even her makeup can cover up what she’s trying to hide.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. When she doesn’t look at me, I lift her chin with my thumb. And when I see the hollowness in her eyes, it affirms all my paranoia.
“What is it?”
She pulls her head away and mutters, “Nothing.”
“Maddy. Tell me what happened,” I say firmly.
Her pleading eyes dart back to me at the same time the door opens, and Mr. Barner walks in.
Maddison
I leave school early so Kingsley doesn’t know, and make my way to the pawn shop. Patrick is leaning against the counter, reading a comic. He doesn’t even move as I stand in front of him, clearing my throat, and ringing the small bell. It takes everything in me not to grab him by the neck of his shirt and force him to look at me. He’s always been a complete dick, and even though I want to be a dick right back, I need the money, so I have to suck it up.
When he finally lifts his head, he rolls his eyes. “What have you got now?”
I guess he’s justified in saying that—most of the things I steal aren’t worth the effort. Today is different. He quickly loses that smirk as I pull the gold chain from the hidden pocket in my bag. His eyes widen but a second later, he plays it cool. “What do you want for it?”
Idiot. You need to learn to control your poker face. I have no idea how much it’s worth, but I have to try. “$500.”
He laughs, tilting his head back, and smacking the counter top. Damn it. I did think that was a bit much. Even if it is worth it, Patrick has never given me more than $120 for anything.
I keep my expression flat.
He places both hands back on the table, and says, “$100.”
I raise my eyebrows. So, it is worth a lot. I feel my smile growing.
“400.”
“$150.”
Hmmm. I can see in the small of his eye, and the swallowing of his double chin that he wants it. “Well, if you don’t want it, I’ll go somewhere else.” I pick it up, and turn to the exit, feeling my heart rate rise. I don’t want to have to go to Teddy—this is a lot safer, and then I release a breath when he clears his throat. “Wait.”
I slowly turn around to face him. He runs a hand through his hair and mutters. “$350.”
My jaw drops and I slowly step back in towards him. He counts the money onto the bench top, and as I hand the necklace over, my hands are shaking. This is the most money I’ve ever had. My eyes water. He snatches it up, and examines it. I retrieve the money and put it in the front pocket of my bag. Before I’m about to leave I ask, “How much is it worth?”
He looks up and smiles. “You just made the worst deal of your life, princess.”
My throat bobs.
“This little gem will go for about five thousand dollars.”
I inhale so fast I have to grip the bench to steady myself. “What?”
“Yup, I’d be kicking myself too. All I can say is: keep stealing from that house.”
I swallow back the lump of nausea, turn on my heel and leave before I do something to that smug face.
I could have had enough money to look after the kids for a long time. I have to shake that thought away, but my mind returns to that house. There were so many things there that I could have taken, and this tiny little thing was worth five grand. What the fuck? I need to go back.
I shove my hands in my pockets and make my way to the supermarket two blocks over. This time I get more than the essentials, but not too much that I won’t be able to carry it halfway across town.
I spend forty bucks and have four bags. I can’t wait to get home and fill their tummies. And after everything they’ve been through, give them some chocolate cake. It is my birthday after all.
By the time I reach the school, I’m lagging. My arms are aching, and my legs are tired. I’m halfway home and I need a break. I sit on a bench seat in the park next to the school to gather my breath and stretch my arms. I watch mothers running around after their children in the last bit of light before darkness comes. I wonder where mine was. Why she didn’t want me. Why my siblings’ parents didn’t want them. It isn’t fair, and when I see the love they have for them, a tear slides down my cheek, and I wipe it away.
I wonder what it’d be like to have a family—especially today. Would I get a happy birthday? A present? A party? I laugh at the absurdity of my wandering mind. I shake my head, and as I bend down to heave up the bags, a hand grabs my wrist.
My heart plummets.
Shit.
I look up. Kingsley has a hesitant smile on his face. He picks up two bags, and I get the others. As I stand, I snatch them off of him, turn and walk away.
I don’t get very far when he grabs me by the arm and pulls me into his chest. Once in his warm embrace, my shoulders fall forward, and it feels so good. He gently rubs the side of my arm and holds me tighter. Despite the heaviness in my stomach, the butterflies are still as prominent as ever.
I muster the strength to separate myself from him. I need to go.
“Let me carry those for you.” He stretches out his hand, but I tug away. He’s in his lacrosse uniform. I glance over his shoulder and see some of his teammates looking this way from the field behind the park.
“It’s fine,” I say.
“I insist.”
“I said it’s fine,” I snap.
His hand drops, and I meet his gaze. I try to lighten my voice. “I’m fine, really. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I smile, then turn and am surprised when he doesn’t stop me.
I make it all of three feet down my street before the whistles start. My insides tighten, and it takes all my strength
to pretend they don’t affect me. I don’t make eye contact, and I continue towards my house. I count the steps to distract myself. Five-six-seven. Wow, all of eight steps before I’m confronted.
A girl with frizzy hair, and what looks like a scar across her jaw stands in front of me with four girls flanking her hips. Fuck.
I know I’m outnumbered, but I can’t show any weakness. I try to push past her, but she puts a hand on my chest and shoves me back.
The adrenaline that spikes in my veins is mixing fervently with my stomach full of nerves. I can feel the money burning in my bag’s pocket. I guess anyone bringing this much food to a house at a single time draws attention in my neighborhood.
“What you got there?”
“None of your business.” I attempt to move past her again, but this time she shoves me hard, and I stumble back, gritting my teeth. Maybe if it were one on one, I’d teach her not to touch me, but she has one too many sets of claws behind her back.
She smiles and says, “Cat got your tongue?”
When I don’t respond or move in time, she pounces forward, smacking me hard in the face, and a sharp pain reverberates through my cheek. The bags drop from my hands, and I almost fall to the ground, but my hands find my knees to brace myself just in time. I have to admit she has a fucking good hook. I wait until the pain numbs, then clench my jaw and look up. This is the birthday bash I get.
She’s smirking and I snap.
Surprisingly, no one jumps in, but out the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of them raiding my backpack and taking my money.
No, no, no. My guard slips for a moment too long, and I feel the blow immobilize me, I fall to the floor in a daze, and hear her laugh. My ribs feel like they’re being trampled on by a herd of cows, and then they’re gone.
“Maddy!”
I push myself up and spit out some blood. I wipe my face and realize the numbness has worn off. I groan in pain.
I feel a hand on my arm, and as I struggle to see through my blurred vision, I make out the figure of my little sister, Tilly.
“Come on,” she says, her voice panicked. She tugs me to my feet, and I attempt to pick up the food that has spread across the road. At least there is food to pick up. Tilly puts both her hands on the sides of my arms, and says, “Don’t move.” Then she drops to the floor and gathers what I can’t. Sometimes I wonder how old she really is. She definitely isn’t an average nine-year-old. She wraps one arm around my waist, holding all the bags in the other, and we stumble the rest of the way home.
Maddison
Occasionally, I wish I was more of a girly girl, then I would have the makeup to cover up my face. All I have is a concealer that is two shades darker than my skin color. It had come with the bag I stole a few months ago. It’s Chanel, at least. I look into the mirror and groan. I look like fucking shit. My already round face is twice its size, and half of it is covered in red welts. My left eye is slightly swollen, and there’s a cut on my lip.
“Fuck.” I already missed school yesterday. I couldn’t skip another day with Mr. Barner on my back.
I gently dab the concealer on my face, then pull my hair out of its top knot to cover the sides of my cheeks. I take in my reflection again. Spots of orange from the wrong shade of concealer highlight my blue eyes. I look like a fucking idiot.
I press my hands into the basin and release a heavy breath. Remembering something in that bag I stole, I rummage through it until I pull out a pair of glasses. They are prescriptions of course, and I’m not fucking blind, but I’d have to be stupid to let this pass. So I put them on, and sure enough, my head spins, and my stomach churns. But as I squint in the mirror, I see that they disguise half my face. The only obvious thing that gives it away now is the cut on my lip.
I push the glasses onto my head and trudge back to my room. I pick up my leather jacket from the ground and put it on, covering the scrapes up my arms. The soft snore coming from Tilly drums the beat of my heart. I move towards her, kneel down, and skim the side of her face. Her cheeks are warm, and her hair is stuck to her face. No doubt the tears keeping her up all night are to blame for that.
I grit my teeth, letting my head fall onto her small chest. I have to look after her. She deserves a better life than this. They all do. If Trudy isn’t going to get them out of this shit hole, I am. I’m going to get into Juilliard, not only for me, but them. A hand brushes the top of my head, and I look up. Tilly is staring at me, wide eyes filled to the brim with tears.
“I’ll make this better,” I murmur.
The walls come crashing down, and the water works explode. “I–I don’t want you to get hurt anymore,” she sobs.
I grip her hand, squeezing it tight. “I won’t. Shhh, it’s okay.” I brush the hair out of her face, stand up, pull her to her feet and wrap my arms around her small head.
She’s been through so much for someone her age—exactly what I’ve been through—and I don’t want her to go through anymore, I don’t want any of my other siblings to have to.
“Come on.” I take hold of her hand, and tug her down the hall towards the kitchen. The other kids are running around. I get their breakfast, and almost half the food I brought home last night has gone. Which means I need to do another job.
I bump into three people on my way to school thanks to my four eyes. When I reach my locker, I’m relieved. I lift the prescription glasses onto my head and squeeze my eyes shut trying to stop the spinning.
“What happened to your face?”
I gasp and press my hand to my heart. I glance at Kingsley out the corner of my eye. His eyebrows are tight, and his jaw is clenched. His gaze is burning into the side of my face.
I know I’d done a crappy job of covering up the evidence of my beating, but I hoped he just thought I was bad at makeup. I open my locker and am about to get my books when I feel a hand on my shoulder. He pulls me around so I’m facing him, and then his face turns even paler. “What happened to your face?” he asks again, but this time his voice is firmer than the first.
I yank my head away. “Nothing.”
“Did this happen after I left you?”
I grab my books and shove them in my bag, ignoring him as I head down the hallway.
Kingsley is already in the music room when I arrive during last period chemistry. He’s sitting at one of the front desks with his head buried in his arms, and when I close the door behind me, his head jerks back. I avoided him all day. Even though it was difficult, I managed.
“Maddy—”
“Don’t.” I stalk across the room to retrieve my cello, and when I close the cupboard and turn around, I almost walk into him. I curse under my breath. He’s blocking my path, and by the way he is pushing his chest out and flexing the muscles in his arms, I know he isn’t about to move. I inhale and meet his gaze.
His hand grips the neck of my cello, his fingers brushing against mine, and my eyes dart to his white knuckles. “Tell me what happened,” he says roughly.
I’ve never had someone care so much. Ever. My heart is racing, and I’m sure my hands are shaking, but his firm grip on the cello steadies me. I can’t show the vulnerability he always seems to find. “I was jumped,” I say, shrugging.
If possible, his hand above my own turns even whiter. “By who?”
“Bitches.”
“You know them?”
I shake my head. “Not really.”
“Do they go here?”
What’s he going to do? Confront them? “No.”
“Did they take your food?”
My eyes have found the ground. “No, but they took my money.”
I almost seize up the moment his finger brushes under my chin, tilting my head back.
He looks deep into my eyes, and I get lost in the deep greens that acquaint them.
My fingers loosen on my cello, whether by force or not I can’t be sure, and then he takes it out of my grasp, puts it back in the cupboard. And before I can protest, he intertwines his fingers through
mine. “You’re having a night off.” He tugs me behind him out the door, and into the crowded hallway. A path automatically opens up for him.
So, this is what it’s like having royal treatment. Heads turn, but it doesn’t look as if he even meets one gaze. I do, though. Paranoid, self-conscious, and embarrassed, my eyes dart around the mob of people. Eventually, for my mental health, I fix my gaze on the back of Kingsley’s shoulders, and wish I had done it so much earlier. It calms me.
Kingsley
I can feel every pair of eyes in the corridor trained on the hand I hold. Right now, I don’t give a fuck. The only thing I can think about is Maddison. We make it out of the school, and down the front steps to the parking lot when the last person I want to deal with right now throws herself at me.
“What’s this?” Rebecca snaps. Two of her minions are standing at her side, glaring at us. I look over my shoulder to Maddy. Her face is stern, but I can see the doubt in her eyes. I turn back around. Shit, when did she get back from Paris? “Get out of the way, Rebecca.”
She scoffs, then brings her hands to her hips. Eyes narrowing, she flicks her glare over my shoulder. I can feel shit is about to go down, so before she has a chance, I turn around to Maddy. “Wait in the car.”
She’s gritting her teeth, and I know she’s about to snap. Her gaze doesn’t meet mine as she stares behind me. I take her hand, and even though she resists, I still tug her and wait until she’s in the passenger’s seat. I rest my hand on the roof and lean forward. “Let me handle her,” I say. She rolls her eyes and I shut the door.
“I thought you were in Paris.” I step back towards Rebecca.
“I was. I got back last night, and I’m flying out to Australia tomorrow.”
Good. “What do you want?”
“What do you mean ‘what do I want?’ What the hell are you doing with . . . that?”
I clench my jaw. I hope Maddy didn’t hear that, but I know she did. I don’t want Rebecca to say anything else and tear her down anymore, so I snap. “It’s none of your business, Rebecca. Stay out of it.”
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