Chapter 5
It’s insane how a few workouts can completely change your life. I’m hooked on boxing.
I want to feel this powerful for the rest of my life.
“Roxie, could you come here please?” Becky, my foster mom, calls up the stairs and I can hear tears in her voice. My stomach drops.
“Yeah, sure. Let me just grab a sweater,” I call back and the unsettling dread creeps over me. I’m being moved.
Whatever.
Fuck them.
Fuck this place.
I walk down the stairs with my head held high, and come to a stop at the bottom where Tom and Becky stand anxiously awaiting me.
“Whats up?” I say, ready to get his over with.
“Come sit down, honey.” Becky says; eyes red and cheeks wet. She’s pale and her skin has a green undertone to it. She’s pregnant.
“I know what’s going to happen. You don’t need to say anything.
I’ll be out by the end of the week I’m sure.
I’ve been here before. Assuming you’ve already contacted my case worker and told them.
They typically move pretty fast.” I wave my hand in front of me, physically saying that this conversation does not need to happen. I’d much prefer it didn’t.
“Roxie.” Tom steps forward as Becky starts crying and I will myself not to get emotional. I’ve only been with them for a few months, so it’s not long in the grand scheme of things. “We’re so sorry.”
“Yep, it’s fine. I’ve heard it all before.” I step back, trying to force some space between us and Becky wails.
“I’m sorry, Roxie, god, I’m so sorry,” she cries into her hands, and steps back, sitting on the arm of the couch right by the stairs.
“It is what it is. I don’t care.”
They both look guilty. Embarrassed. Full of regret.
But none of that is on me, and I’m not going to claim it.
“I’m going out. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stay in this town, so I’m going to go hang out with some friends before I have to leave them,” I say coldly, each word crafted for maximum impact.
Tom shakes his head no, but Becky cries harder.
Pregnancy hormones already.
He puts his arms around his wife, and I run back upstairs to grab my important stuff and pack it into my backpack.
It wouldn’t be the first time a foster parent has gotten mad at me and thrown my shit out before my move out date.
I know I said I’d be out by the end of the week, but it’s not up to me.
Social services comes when they want and that’s that.
Shoving my sketchbook, a few pairs of clothes, all the money I’ve saved, and my chargers into my backpack, I throw on my boots and head out.
“Roxie, please, can we just talk about this?” Tom asks as I put my hand on the door handle.
“Will anything change?” I ask, half holding my breath in hope that it might, half in fear of rejection. I wait long enough for them to answer.
But they don’t.
“Then there you go. I’ll be back later,” I say with finality and run outside. Where do I go? Where do I go?
There.
The walk to the little wooded area behind the school wasn’t as long as I expected, but that could also be because I think I ran most of the way.
The way my heart is pounding and my lungs feel like they’re on fire tells me I did.
I don’t remember most of the walk/run. The only thing that I could remember was Becky’s wails and Tom’s guilty face.
The leaves crunch under my feet as I try to find my way to the big boulder I laid on that day I ditched school with Ty.
Back when…everything felt perfect. I had a friend, someone who understood and empathized with me.
Someone who wanted to hang out and learn about me. And now… Now everything is fucked.
My feet stop when I reach the small clearing, the open space amplified by the moonlight streaming through the leaves.
But instead of the silence that should be deafening my ears, I hear more crunching of leaves underfoot, more thudding like thunderous running and someone calling my name in a harsh whisper. “Roxie!”
My hackles immediately rise and I turn, fists up and ready to put my very meager fighting experience to the test.
I can see the shadowed figures move in the darkness, but it’s too dark to see anything else.
“Back the fuck off! I’m not kidding, I’ll kick your ass!” I scream, bending down and picking up a thick stick by my foot.
“Put the stick down, chica, it’s just me,” I hear Ty say from the darkness and drop the stick in relief.
“Ty?” I ask in a desperate whisper. Thank god.
“What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” I ask right back. Asher comes into view and I wave.
“We’re walking home,” Asher says plainly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like it’s normal for them to be out and walking around in the dark at eleven at night.
“Home from where?” I ask skeptically.
“Don’t worry about it,” Asher says at the same time that Ty asks me, “Are you okay?”
Weird.
“I’m…I’ll be fine.”
Ty steps closer, joining me in the moonlight as he tips my chin up and looks at my face.
“Did someone hurt you?” he asks seriously, with a fire in his eyes burning so brightly in defense of me, it takes my breath away.
“No… That’s not it.”
“Then why do you look so sad?” Ty asks earnestly.
“Ty, I’m going to head home, okay? I’ll see you guys later.” Asher steps in nervously and then backs away, like he’s afraid to interject anymore.
“Awkward,” I say in a quiet sing-song voice to break the tension and back up, out of Ty’s touch. That’s the first time I’ve been touched by a guy in gentleness and my cheek is warm from his skin on mine.
“What happened? Tell me,” Ty says. His words are harsh and urgent in the darkness.
He’s standing there, bathed in moonlight.
The light highlights the sharpness of his cheekbones, of his jaw, the darkness reflects in those deep eyes of his and make them look even darker.
His hair is mused, like he’s been pulling at it over and over.
And he’s got a black eye.
“What happened to you?!” I cry out loud, jumping forward to inspect his eye and make sure there aren’t other injuries.
“Nothing, this is nothing, I promise.” Ty waves his hands in a way that’s meant to diminish his injuries and get me to let it go.
I’m not that kind of girl.
“You have a black eye, walking around town in the middle of the night, and expect me to believe that ‘it’s nothing’? You’re crazy,” I scoff.
“I’ll tell you if you tell me.” He drops his gaze before lifting it to me, eyes flickering up from beneath the dark sweep of his lashes. The tension crackles, a fair-trade hanging between us like a promise.
“Ugh, fine,” I groan, and step back, pulling him by the hand to rest against the stone. “I’ll be moving soon.”
“What?” he asks, his voice just above a whisper.
“Yeah, they just dropped the news on me and I… It hit me harder than it usually does.”
“Why? Why are they making you leave?” he clarifies his question. The words aren’t cold, but they aren’t…warm. I’m thankful for the darkness because it somewhat hides the way my whole body deflates with rejection from his tone.
“I didn’t stick around to hear it from their mouths, but I’m pretty sure they’re having a baby. Their own baby. So they’ll probably need my room or something for the nursery, I don’t know. It’s happened before, it’ll happen again.” I wave my hand between us like it’s not a big deal.
It shouldn’t be.
But I can’t help but feel disappointed this time. I…I like it here.
“But, there’s gotta be something you can do.
We can do. Maybe, we can ask if you can stay for the end of the year.
It’s not that long, maybe they can extend your time here and that’ll give us some time to figure—” He’s rambling, trying to fix a problem that can’t be fixed.
It’s sweet, a very sweet gesture that makes my heart clench. I cut him off with a shake of my head.
“That’s not how foster care works. You go where there’s, hopefully, a bed and a school close by. That’s it.” I shrug, and drop my backpack next to the rock, leaning my hips against it with my arms crossed.
“So you’re just going to…go?” he asks. I can’t get a read on him.
“What choice do I have, Ty?” I throw my arms out in frustration.
“It’s not like I can stay, I have nowhere to stay.
I have a shitty part-time job that wouldn’t cover anything even close to rent.
I have no family, no friends. I have nothing!
I have me, myself, and I and I have to protect myself.
” My volume increases before it drops at the end, and I shake my head. “I have to protect myself.”
“We can figure something out,” he repeats.
“I don’t know when I’m leaving. End of the week, maybe.
Probably earlier, I don’t know.” I curse that it’s only mid-week and pickups are usually Fridays–so I can have two whole days of being awkward with the new family who decided to take a chance on a teenager.
I don’t know who thought that shit rule up but I hope they choke on a bag of dicks.
“Friday?” he breathes out the word like a punch to the gut and I shrug again.
“It’s fine.”
“You’ve only been here a few months.”
“It happens.”
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know.”
“Will you always be there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why are you letting this happen?” he finally snaps and I lose my shit.