by S. M. Koz
I lower myself to the bed and take a deep breath. It’s been a crazy day. A crazy three days, actually. I should call Chase and tell him I’m at my new place. I look around the room, but don’t see a phone. I could go searching for one, but I don’t want them to think I’m snooping around their fancy house. They might assume I’m casing the joint or something and then have a reason to kick me out like the last two places. Mrs. Campbell and Brad seem nice. It would be good to stay here a while.
Which probably means I shouldn’t tell Chase where I am. I sigh at that realization. Sherry would be proud of me. I just hope I’m strong enough to stick to it.
Chapter 4
HAILEY
At precisely one minute to five o’clock, I head downstairs to the dining room, starving since I skipped lunch. I can’t imagine what dinner will be like with four of us around that massive table. I probably won’t even be able to hear someone at the other end.
When I enter the room, I’m surprised to find it empty. Just then, Brad comes tearing around the corner. He slams on the brakes when he sees me in the doorway.
“Dinner’s in the kitchen. We only use this room for holidays and parties.”
I nod and follow him to a regularly-sized table in a corner of the kitchen. His mom and dad are already sitting down with bowls of different food spread over the tabletop. My mouth starts watering at just the sight and smell of everything.
“You must be Hailey,” Mr. Campbell says, standing. He looks like an older version of Brad with the same sharp lines on his face and mostly the same hair color except for a little gray peeking through. He’s also got a dimple on his right cheek, just like his son. He’s not quite as fit as Brad, but I bet he was when he was younger. Another difference is black glasses. They make him look distinguished, and I wonder what he does for a living.
He shakes my hand and then tells me to sit in a chair across from him. Brad takes the chair across from his mom, so we’re next to each other.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Mr. Campbell continues. “Would you like some chicken?” he asks, passing a plate to me. I accept it and take a piece for myself before handing it to Brad, who piles three pieces on his plate.
“So, Hailey,” Mrs. Campbell says, “we’d like to talk about the ground rules here.”
“Ground rules?”
“Just to make sure we all understand each other.”
I nod and accept a bowl of mashed potatoes from Mr. Campbell.
“First, what would you like to call us?” she asks.
“Umm … I don’t know. What are my options?” Neither of my other foster homes gave me an option. It was Mr. and Mrs. Garner and Ms. Jacobson.
“Mom and Dad. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell. Ms. Gigi and Mr. Gil. Aunt Gigi and Uncle Gil. Gigi and Gil. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”
“Pain in the ass #1 and pain in the ass #2?” Brad suggests. At first, I think he’s serious, but then he shoots a smile at his parents, who shake their heads in return.
I contemplate the options. The thought of calling them Mom and Dad initially warms my heart, but that’s short-lived because they aren’t my parents and will never be. I’ve got a loser mom, and no one, not even my mom, knows who my dad is.
Mr. and Mrs. Campbell feels very formal. I guess that matches their house, but it’s going to be hard to feel at home here if we’re that formal with each other.
“Maybe Gigi and Gil for now?” I say.
“That’s fine.”
“Not nearly as much fun as my option,” Brad says, overloading his plate with broccoli.
“And do you like Hailey?” Gil asks. “Or do you have a nickname you prefer?”
“Hailey, please.”
“Okay, now that that’s settled, let’s get to the House Rules. Number one: If you ever have a boy in your bedroom, you need to keep your door open.” She pauses for a moment and then adds, “Actually, whenever you have a friend in your room, please keep the door open. That goes for both of you from now on.”
Brad rolls his eyes. “Yes, because Adam and I are going to get it on with the door closed.”
“Rules are rules for all our children and have to be equal.”
He shakes his head and turns to me. “This is their way of covering their bases since they don’t know which way you lean romantically.”
I cough as chicken gets stuck in my throat. They want to know if I’m into guys or girls? I look at his parents who wave off his comment. “We don’t care either way,” Gil says.
“We just want to keep you safe,” Gigi adds. “That means no sex on our watch.”
“Got it,” I mumble. Their rule is no different than in my other foster homes. I just hope I can abide by it for at least a while here.
“So, which way do you lean?” Brad asks.
“Bradley Nolan!” Gigi shrieks.
“Dude, she’s my sister now. I should know these kinds of things so I can look out for her at school.”
“I have a boyfriend,” I mutter.
“That’s wonderful,” Gigi says.
“Let me know if I ever need to kick his ass.” Brad shovels more food onto his plate. I can’t believe he stays so fit with how much food he’s eating. It’s easily three times the size of my meal.
“Rule number two,” Gil says, “No drugs or alcohol. But if you ever are intoxicated, please call us to pick you up. Never get into a car with someone under the influence. We’ll pick you up, no questions asked.”
“It’s true,” Brad adds. “But then you’ll feel like a complete jackass the next day because you screwed up big time and they won’t even yell at you. They’ll just look at you with disappointment as though you aren’t disappointed enough in yourself. It sucks. Just don’t do it.”
“Sounds like you have personal experience with this,” I point out, starting to enjoy his commentary.
“A little.”
Gigi ignores our side conversation and says, “Rule number three: No stealing. If you need money for something, let us know. We’re happy to work out a chore and allowance schedule or help you get a job, if you’d like to do that. We’ll cover all your food, toiletries, and school expenses, including any clubs or sports you’d like to join. DSS will give you a small stipend for clothes. Other things like music or entertainment are on you.”
I look to Brad, expecting his expert advice, but he’s silent as he chugs a glass of milk, which makes me think this might be a rule that only applies to me. I can’t blame them really; they don’t know me. I obviously have no money. Of course, they’d assume I’d steal from them.
I nod and fight the disappointing feeling this rule gives me. They’ve seemed like such great people and I honestly thought they saw me differently, but it’s clear that’s not true.
“You okay?” Gil asks.
I nod again and take a sip of water.
“Last rule,” Gigi says. “Honesty and respect. We know we won’t always see eye to eye on things, but we want you to feel comfortable coming to us when something’s bothering you. We won’t judge you. We want to help.”
Won’t judge me? It seems like they already did with Rule Number Three. I don’t want to get into that with them, so I just say, “Okay.”
“So, dinnertime’s not an official rule?” Brad asks, looking at his dad.
“You’re right! Rule number five: Dinner at five on game nights and at seven all other days. It’s my favorite time of day. Don’t be late.”
“If you are, you’ll face the wrath of Dad.”
I smile politely, but don’t offer any words.
“You don’t want to know what the wrath of Dad entails?” Brad asks. “I’ll tell you anyway. If you’re late, he’ll force you to watch his god-awful Westerns from the fifties. It’s so painful. They are horrible, horrible movies.”
“Those are high quality films! Much better than the CGI-crap you call movies these days.”
“High quality? They’re in black and white and have no special effects!”
“Be
cause the point of the movie is the plot. You don’t need a bunch of explosions if you have an actual plot.”
“Sometimes I don’t understand how I could be your son,” Brad says with a laugh, pushing his empty plate away from him. “May I be excused? I need to finish some homework before the game.”
“Yes, dear,” Gigi says. “Are you finished, Hailey?”
I nod and then Gigi takes my plate from me.
“I can wash the dishes,” I say. Keeping the house clean was always my job at home.
“Are you sure?”
I nod and clear the rest of the table.
“Okay, would you like this to be your chore?”
“Um, sure. I usually did this at home.”
“Great. How does forty dollars a week allowance sound?”
“For washing dishes?”
“And putting them away.”
Forty dollars might as well be a thousand dollars. I’ve never had an income, mainly because I never had a way to get to a job. And, despite doing all of the housework, my mom never once gave me an allowance. Why would she want to waste her precious few dollars on her daughter when there was crack to buy?
“You don’t have to pay me,” I say. “I’m happy to do it since you’re letting me stay here.”
“Don’t be silly. Brad gets an allowance for doing our landscaping; you should get one for whatever chore you choose. Dishes work for me, if that’s what you want.”
“Brad does chores?”
“Of course.”
“And gets an allowance?”
“Yes, why?”
“I thought that rule only applied to me.”
Gigi steps next to me and wraps her arm around my shoulder. “Oh, honey, no. Like I said, the rules are for everyone. I’m sorry we weren’t clear. “
“It’s okay,” I mumble, but suddenly feel much better. It’s good to know my initial impression of them being wonderful hasn’t been ruined just yet.
“Are you coming to the game with us?” Gil asks.
“Um …” I say to buy myself a little time. I don’t exactly like football. Okay, I’ve never actually watched it, so I don’t know how I feel about it. The bigger concern is being around all those students and parents at the game. I look down at my droopy outfit and stained shirt.
“Come on, it will be fun,” Gigi says, spooning leftovers into a plastic container. “You saw the clothes in your closet, right?”
I nod.
“I think there’s a Pinecrest Patriots sweatshirt in there you can wear. And some jeans. You’ll fit right in.”
How did she know what I was thinking?
“So?” Gil asks.
“Um … I guess so.” I don’t feel like I really have a choice. They’re all going and it would be weird for me to stay alone in their home tonight. If I change clothes, I shouldn’t stick out too much at the game. And I’ll sit by Gigi and Gil, so I won’t be by myself. It actually might not be too bad.
Chapter 5
HAILEY
An hour and a half later, I’m sitting in the stands, watching the team run up and down the field. I can’t really follow the game or the rules, but I do know we want a touchdown. Or, another touchdown, that is. It’s twenty-one to seven with the Patriots in the lead. Luckily, it’s easy to know when to cheer or groan with hundreds of eager fans surrounding you.
I shove my hands into the pockets of my hoodie and wish I had worn a jacket. It wasn’t cold when we left the house, but now that the sun is down, it’s getting chilly.
“Do you want some hot chocolate?” Gigi asks, nudging my shoulder.
“No, I’m fine,” I lie, studying my hands in my lap. I’d love some hot chocolate, but I don’t have any money and I don’t want her to pay for me.
“Are you sure? It will warm you up.”
“I want some,” Gil says, reaching into his pocket. “Here’s twenty bucks. Go raid the snack bar.”
“I can’t take your money,” I reply, pushing his hand back.
“It’s for food. We told you we’d cover all your food expenses.” He shoves the bill back at me.
“That’s necessary food to keep me from starving. Not snacks at a football game.”
“Food is food in my book. Are you going or do I have to go and miss the next play where we’ll likely score again?”
Just then, something happens on the field and everyone starts cheering. Gil shoves the bill into my hand and then jumps up, pumping his hands and cheering. Gigi joins him as I stare at the money. I guess I could at least get him a hot chocolate.
“Do you want anything?” I yell at Gigi to be heard over the roar of the crowd.
“Coffee. Black. And some popcorn. Thanks.”
Having their orders in mind, I start to make my way down the stands. With everyone excited about the current play, it’s difficult to move as fans jump around and constantly bump into me. Finally, I’m at ground level and have an open path with everyone crowded around the fence.
The bright lights and smells coming from the snack bar beckon me, and I feel my restraint crumbling. A hot chocolate would be really good right now. I take my place at the back of the line and figure I might as well order one since Gil was so insistent.
“Hales?”
I turn toward the voice.
“It is you. I’ve been waiting all day for your call. Where the hell have you been? And why are you here. What are you wearing?”
“Chase.” All the good things that have happened today suddenly seem like a dream. That’s not my life. Chase, with all his drama, is my life. Somehow, he’ll make the Campbells kick me out before the night is over, and I’ll be right back where I belong.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“My brother’s dating a girl from Northern Moore. Told me we could score some Molly here.”
Drugs. Of course.
“You a Pinecrest girl now?”
I tug on the front of my sweatshirt, wishing I could hide the logo plastered to the front of it. “It was the only placement Sherry could find for me.”
“We gotta change that. Come with me tonight. No one will find you.”
“Sherry knows where you live.”
“We’ll stay with Axel.”
Axel is his best friend and supplier. He’s also the son of my mom’s pimp. There’s no way I’d ever stay at his house because his dad would definitely recruit me.
“I can’t, Chase. I’m sorry.”
“What do you mean, you can’t?”
“I can’t. I need to go to school and graduate. I can’t hide away in Axel’s trailer.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “What kind of lies these people been feeding you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You think you gonna go to college? Get some fancy job? Ain’t never gonna happen. You’ll end up just like your momma.”
I feel the sting of tears and have to look away from him. That’s my biggest fear and I know there’s a ninety-five percent chance of that happening. The odds are definitely stacked against me making anything out of my life.
I reach the front of the line and place my order. When I pull out the twenty, Chase’s eyes grow wide. “Add a Coke and two Snickers to that.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “This isn’t my money, Chase.”
“Who cares?”
The price of a Coke and one Snickers is about the same as the hot chocolate I was going to order for myself, so I tell the cashier to swap those out. When she hands me the drinks and food, I pass Chase his things. The cashier tries to give me my change, but Chase grabs the money for himself.
“Chase, I really need that.”
“Doesn’t look like it. You’ve got fancy clothes and plenty of food.”
“Please,” I beg. Gigi and Gil are going to think I stole from them and kick me out. The tears finally begin rolling down my cheek. “Don’t ruin this for me. I need that money back. It’s not mine. I have to return it.”
“Is there a p
roblem here?”
The deep voice sounds familiar. I turn to find Adam coming toward us.
“No, no problem,” I reply, wiping away the tears.
“It sure seems like a problem.”
“She said there ain’t a problem,” Chase says, puffing out his chest.
Adam nods and then licks his lips, as though thinking about his next move. Without warning, he says, “Hailey, I want you to meet my sister. Come on.” He puts his hand around my back and turns me away from Chase. I start to move, but then worry about the money again. I can’t show up empty-handed.
I stop and look into Adam’s eyes. “He took Gil and Gigi’s money,” I say. “I have to get it back.”
“How much?”
“Ten bucks.”
He reaches into his pocket and then hands me a bill.
“I can’t take your money.”
“Think of it as a loan. Pay me back whenever you can.”
I glance back at Chase whose eyes are shooting daggers at us. There’s no way I’m getting the money from him, so this is my only option. “Thank you. That’s very nice.”
He shrugs off my comment. “If you’re Brad’s sister, then you’re practically my sister. I’ll look out for you when he’s unable to.”
When we’re finally away from Chase, I tell Adam that while I’d love to meet his sister, I need to take Gigi and Gil their snacks. He understands and says he’ll meet up with us after the game. I’m worried that Gil will scrutinize his change when I return, but he just pockets the money without even looking at it.
“Didn’t you get anything for yourself?” he asks.
“I did, but then I met Adam and drank it while I was with him,” I lie without thinking. I’m not sure why I felt compelled to do that. I wanted it to seem like there was a reason for me to spend so much, but it’s not like Gil was questioning me about it.
“Good,” Gil replies, then goes back to cheering.
An hour later, the game is over and the Patriots win 30 to 7. True to his word, Adam joins us with a girl who looks a lot like him with dark skin and hair. He’s also got a pretty blond in tow.
“This is my sister, Abbie, and her best friend, Michelle,” Adam says.
“Nice to meet you,” I reply, extending my hand. “I’m Hailey.”