27. Margo
Chapter 27
Margo
M s. McCaw is in the kitchen when I come down the stairs.
I hesitate for a second, then force myself to keep moving. My head hurts, my stomach is rolling. And now my social worker sits at the table with a mug of coffee, and no foster parent in sight.
“Good morning,” she greets me.
I force a smile. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
She cocks a brow. “I heard you had a late night. Stumbling in with a boy, drunk…”
The blood rushes away from my face. Why didn’t I put that together immediately? She comes to visit right after I seriously fuck up—of course they don’t want me anymore.
Tears burn my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I choke out. “If I could just talk to them—ask them for a second chance?—”
“No one is taking you away.” She circles the table to stand in front of me. “This visit was scheduled with them since last week. Okay? Calm down.”
I exhale.
“But…”
“Ms. McCaw?—”
“To put it plainly: I’m concerned. What’s up with this behavior, Margo? Does it have to do with your fath?—”
“No!” I hurry past her and grab myself a mug. Once I’ve poured and doctored a cup of coffee, I take a seat at the table.
She joins me, watching me with concerned eyes.
“Where are the Bryans?” I ask.
“They elected to give us some privacy, so it’s just you and me. You can be honest. How are you doing?”
I heave a sigh. “Good, I think. It’s weird being back at school, with people I used to know…” I shake my head. Now’s not the time to get sidetracked by thoughts of Caleb. “I’m still getting used to the Bryans being so nice .”
Angela laughs. “From what I’ve heard, they think the world of you.”
“Probably not after last night.” I focus my gaze out the window.
“They know teenagers make mistakes. That includes getting drunk at a party.” She touches my wrist. “Apologize, and things will be fine. Don’t slip again.”
“I won’t.” I sip my coffee. “I do have a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“Claire’s phone disconnected, and I haven’t been able to reach her. Could you give her my number if I wrote it down?”
Claire is sixteen, and Hanna is twelve. They’re real siblings, which means… well, there was a higher chance that they wouldn’t get separated. The foster system wants them to stay together whenever possible. I don’t know what happened to them, though.
I knew, at the very least, that I would not be going to the same new home as either of them. There was no way. Two teenage girls are one thing—three are nearly impossible to place together.
Ms. McCaw’s lips flatten. She’s not their case worker, to the best of my knowledge. But she works with her, so… maybe it’s possible.
“I can’t make any promises, Margo. But yes, if you write down how to get in touch with you, I can try to pass it along.”
I smile. “Thank you. Seriously.”
“No promises,” she repeats. “But I’ll do my best.”
We stand, and she hugs me. We’re usually a limited-contact type of relationship, and the moment surprises me. It takes me a second to hug her back.
She’s been the only stable person in my life for seven years, and I think this is the first time she’s hugged me. Besides one-armed side squeezes anyway.
“Take care,” she says. “And no more drinking. This is your only warning. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I hold back the urge to salute her.
I lock the door after she leaves. I lean against it, letting my head fall forward. I’m an idiot . Letting Caleb get me drunk—okay, well, that’s not really fair. Theo put the cup in my hand. I was with Riley as I downed it faster than I should’ve.
The mistake was going to the party in the first place. That will not happen again.
When Lenora and Robert get back, I’m on the couch watching some mindless reality competition. They’re armed with groceries, and once the bags are put on the kitchen island, they come in and sit with me.
“You saw your social worker?” Lenora asks.
I nod and bite my lip. Uncertainty wars inside me. Do I just blurt out an apology? Ease into it?
“Did you have any concerns? With us?” Robert’s eyebrows crinkle.
“No! I just—I’m so sorry.” Blurting out an apology, it is . “I’ve never drank. I’ve never been drunk?—”
“Margo.” Lenora frowns and reaches toward me.
“I don’t want to put you in that position.”
“It’s okay,” Lenora says. “We started fostering to be parents. It might not seem like it, but this is part of that.”
Robert shoots her a look. “Well, it’s not okay like you can do it again. But you’re owning up to a mistake, and we appreciate that.”
I nod quickly.
“But we can’t let it go unpunished,” he adds. “So until further notice: school and home. No exceptions.”
I swallow. It’s fair. Some other foster homes would’ve locked their kid in a room for a week with limited rations. “I understand. Thank you.”
We all stand, and I retreat to my room. They could’ve slapped me with chores… cut the Wi-Fi… a lot of things. I set my coffee down and glance around, marveling— again —at the luxury of this house.
My phone vibrates.
I reach for it, half hoping it’s Riley or Caleb.
My heart sinks.
Unknown
Made a big enough fool of yourself?
[video attachment]
I click on the video and hold my breath. It’s me…
Oh God.
Someone saw Caleb and me leave the party last night. There’s a clear view of me falling backward against his car. His hand going into my pants. And…
I drop the phone, covering my mouth with both hands. It lands on the bed facedown, but the video keeps playing. Over the music from the house, and people talking, there’s breathing.
That noise will haunt me for a while.
My phone rings, cutting off the video. I jump a foot and slowly flip it over. If it’s Unknown, suddenly calling , I may lose it.
It’s a number I’m not familiar with, so I ignore the call and go back to Unknown’s conversation. They’ve sent me another text.
Unknown
Now… what to do with that? So many options.
What do you want?
That would be too easy.
Keep your phone on you. I’ll be in touch.
My stomach heaves. I rush to the bathroom, falling to my knees in front of the toilet. When I’m done, I stand on shaky legs. My mouth and throat burn from the acid.
Lenora is in the doorway, her expression sympathetic. “As if you needed another reason to not overdo the alcohol.”
I cup my hands under the faucet and rinse out my mouth. I spit and clear my throat, then straighten. “I’m sorry.” Again .
She hands me a towel. “There are consequences you’ll learn on your own. It’s part of becoming an adult, unfortunately. Are you feeling hungover?”
“I was okay up until now.”
A little white lie never hurt anyone.
She pats my shoulder and leaves me alone. I close the door and fall onto my bed, burying my face in the pillows.
I should delete the video and any evidence of Unknown.
They could ruin everything—my life at school. Staying with the Bryans.
What if my foster parents saw that? It’d be icing on the poisoned cake. One mistake is just that: a mistake. But two? Or more? Someone has a video of Caleb putting his hand down my pants, and that isn’t an accident.
The funny thing is—it wouldn’t even blow back on him. He’d be lauded as the guy who got some action from the drunk outcast. Oh, she was his girlfriend for a night? Weird.
Just to be clear, I’m the drunk outcast in that scenario.
I contemplate begging Unknown to delete it. But the more I think about it, the more I know it’s a bad idea. They’ve been out for blood before I even started going to Emery-Rose. And now they finally have a blade sharp enough to cut.
My phone rings, and I flinch. The sound goes straight through my throbbing brain.
I check, and it’s the same unfamiliar number. This time, I answer it.
“Margo?”
I sit up straight. “Oh my God, Claire! I just asked Ms. McCaw?—”
“She dropped it off,” she interrupts. “Things have been crazy here. I wanted to reach out, but I had to get a new number. My phone smashed; it was tragic?—”
“Awful,” I murmur. “How’s Hanna?”
“As well as can be expected.” Pause . “We were able to stay together, thank God. But it’s been a hard transition. We loved—well, you know.”
I do. It’s hard to get attached to a family. But once you do, something usually comes along to fuck it up. That’s why I want to keep the Bryans at arm’s length. I like them. But if I were to be ripped away, right this moment, I wouldn’t be that devastated.
Okay, maybe I would.
It’s the grief of losing families—over and over and over —that kills your spirit and hardens your heart to that kind of relationship. I’ve seen it happen too many times to let it happen to me. I’ve only got a few months left, and I need to emerge intact.
“Are you near Rose Hill?” I ask her.
“We’re in the next town over. They put me in the fancy-as-hell high school. It’s been a trip.” She chuckles.
“That’s good.”
“Yeah. I’m ready to get the fuck out of here, though.”
I sag on the bed. “Maybe since you’re close, we can meet up one day. I’d love to see Hanna, too.”
“We’d love that,” Claire answers, her voice noticeably lighter. “We’ve missed you, Wolfe. Maybe we can swing it this week.”
“Oh, shoot.” I smack my forehead. “I can’t for the foreseeable future. I’m grounded.”
“What on earth did you do to get grounded?”
“Came home drunk,” I say in a low voice.
She bursts into laughter. “Priceless. Got any videos of that? I’d love to see you drunk?—”
“No.” It comes out a bit harsher than I intended. “Sorry. Little touchy about it, seeing as how it didn’t end well.”
“What’s going on with you, Margo? Are the new foster parents that bad?”
“They’re great.” I flop sideways, my head hitting the pillow. “I just… I’m worried, okay? There are a lot of moving pieces, and I’m almost done…”
“Listen.” Claire has never been a rational one. Her ideas are half-crazed most of the time. Of the two of us, she’s been the instigator. The troublemaker. “Sneak out and meet me on Friday. At lunchtime. We can find somewhere to go.”
Yep. She’s crazy.
“I have to be back for last period. My foster dad is my teacher.”
“Brutal.” She clears her throat. “Oh! Let’s meet at the mall! Friday at noon, and you’ll be back before anyone notices. Pinky promise.”
There’s no use arguing with her. Claire with an idea is a girl on the warpath.
“I don’t have a ride.”
“Get one of your friends to drive you,” she says. “Or the guy who got you drunk.”
I groan. “I don’t know. I’ll let you know. Okay?”
“You’ll figure it out! Love ya, sis.” Claire makes a kissy noise into the phone.
The line goes dead before I can respond.