I felt like these two characters both had a rough upbringing. Seeing them raised together in difficult surroundings since childhood seemed like a good story line. I changed their histories to fit the story. ENJOY!
John had turned eighteen two days ago. As foster kids we don't expect anything on our birthdays, but you had to feel bad for the kid. When he woke up on his eighteenth birthday his bags were packed and waiting by the door. No warning, no money, no help. Not even a "Happy Birthday" as Tom and Summer Ricci kicked him out. They had no use for him anymore because once he turned eighteen their monthly check stopped coming.
At sixteen years old, Alex knew that in two years it would be his bags by the front door. It's not that his foster parents were bad people. They were just distant. Everything was about the money. Which was better than some of the abusive ones he'd had in the past. They kept the government check for themselves, so the day he turned fourteen he'd gotten himself a job at the food court in the local mall and used the money for clothes and food.
He'd had his own room for two days and he was enjoying it, but he knew that Tom and Summer were trying to get another kid because they were setting up their "show room". It was really a room for their Schnauzer and Pit Bull, Monster and Fluffy, respectively. Whenever they were expecting a new kid or a home visit from a social worker they set the room up to look like a child's bedroom. None of the kids spoke up because they were afraid that if they were transferred to another home the other parents might get physical.
The doorbell rang a few hours later and Marie, a bubbly, blonde social worker was standing on the other side. She was wearing one of her traditional pants suits with a brightly colored blouse beneath the blazer. Next to her was a tiny, knobby kneed little girl. Her doe-like brown eyes looked up at Alex, he could tell she was nervous. Normally, when they brought a new kid into the house he was indifferent and rarely spoke to them, but something about this little girl was different. Foster kids rarely exposed their weaknesses, but this girl was laying it all out there. She was so vulnerable.
"Alex, are Tom and Summer home?" Marie asked. Her voice was naturally condescending. It was like she was always talking to a five year old.
Alex nodded and called their names over his shoulder. They were in the den watching The Wheel of Fortune and eating dinner off of their foldable trays. Summer called back, the agitation clear in her voice. "Who's at the door?"
"Marie, she has a kid with her," Alex answered. His eyes drifted to the girl again. She had taken a step behind Marie, half concealing herself from view.
Summer and Tom came up behind him. Alex turned to see that Summer had pulled her long, dry hair into a tight chignon bun. Sometime between the den and the front door she'd managed to slip in fake diamond studs. She was still wearing her usual stained tank top and ripped jeans attire though. Tom's thick curls had been brushed to look somewhat decent. He'd tucked his pit-stained white t-shirt into his worn jeans. They didn't look perfect, but they were almost presentable.
Marie didn't even flinch. She simply stepped aside, revealing the child behind her. "Summer, Tom. This is Jo. She's eleven. The system's placing her here, until they can find her a permanent home."
Tom and Summer pasted on fake smiles. Summer even dropped to one knee and took the backpack off Jo's shoulders. Then they babbled on and on about all the fun they were going to have while she stayed with them. Alex watched Jo's expression the whole time. She might have been scared, but she wasn't stupid. She wasn't buying a word the Ricci's said. Alex rolled his eyes, sick of hearing them talk and snuck off to his bedroom.
Hours later after all the paperwork and formalities had been taken care of, Tom and Summer opened Alex's bedroom door. He looked up from the magazine he was looking out to see the two of them and Jo standing in the doorway. The young girl had her oversized black backpack on her back again and her eyes were darting nervously around the room. Alex pushed the magazine aside and slid off the bed.
"Hi," He said in the nicest voice he could muster.
Tom and Summer nodded toward the room before them and explained that this is where Jo was going to sleep and spend most of her time while she was in their house. Alex made a mental note to tell her about sneaking into the den while they were out to watch television. When he looked up again Tom was shutting the door and Jo was standing in the middle of the room.
"Hi," Jo finally replied. Her voice was tiny and shy. Her eyes were trained on the stained beige carpet.
Alex took a step forward and offered his hand. "Alex Karev," He introduced himself.
Jo looked at his hand for a moment like it was a totally foreign object. It took her a few minutes before she reached out and shook it. "Jo Wilson," She replied.
"This is your bed," Alex explained, motioning to the bed opposite his. It was made with navy, green, and red plaid sheets same as his. He realized the room wasn't very girly, but Tom and Summer had decorated it and there wasn't much he could change. "These are your drawers." He pulled out the bottom three drawers in wooden dresser. They were John's drawers a few days ago.
Jo didn't respond. Her eyes slowly drifted around the room, taking in the unfamiliar sights. Finally, she made her way toward the bed and heaped the big camping backpack up onto the mattress. Alex retreated to his side of the room and plopped down on his own bed. He decided to leave Jo alone for a while. He picked up his magazine and began reading through it.
Whenever he bought a copy of The Rolling Stone magazine he imaged that he would find a picture of his mother and father. He didn't know much about them, but he did know that they were musicians...and drug addicts. They took him to their gigs a lot. He waited backstage while they played their heavy metal songs. Afterward on the tour bus. They never bothered to put him to sleep before they snorted cocaine or injected meth in their veins. The memories still made chills creep up his spine. When he was four years old, his mother put him in the backseat of their beat up family station wagon and dropped him off at the local firehouse. The Safe Haven law prevented the firefighters from asking questions. The next day he was put into a group home.
"Are they mean...?" Jo asked. She was sitting on her bed. Her bag lay next to her unopened. Her eyes darted to the door, like she was expecting the Ricci's to knock it down and attack her.
Alex dropped the magazine into his lap and shook his head. "They don't beat us, but I wouldn't call them nice, either."
Jo nodded, her gaze lingering on the door for a moment longer before sliding off the bed. She unzipped her backpack and started to pull out her almost all neutral colored wardrobe. Alex watched for a moment then stood up excusing himself to the bathroom. He figured he would give her a minute alone. Moving to a new house was stressful.
There was an incessant tapping on Alex's arm. He stirred, but didn't open his eyes. When the tapping continued he opened them and let a groan escape his lips. "What is it?" He hissed. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness in he room he saw Jo standing beside her bed in a white t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. She was hopping from foot to foot. His expression softened and he sat up.
"Never mind," She said and turned toward her bed.
"No, no. It's okay. What's wrong?"
Jo turned around again her face barely lit by the moonlight coming in through the crack in the blinds. "I don't know where the bathroom is," She admitted, dropping her gaze to the floor in shame.
"Down the hall. Second door on the right," Alex instructed. He rolled over, burrowing his face in the pillows. His only hope was that he would fall back asleep. After a few minutes he still felt Jo's presence behind him. He peeked his head over his shoulder and saw that she was watching him with a shy expression. "What's wrong?"
Jo bounced from foot to foot again. "I'm afraid of the dark."
Normally, Alex would pick on the weaker kid. For some reason he felt the need to protect Jo like she was his little sister. Instead of replying with a wise crack about being a sissy and needing to grow up Alex kicked the blankets back and slid out of bed.
After a few days, Alex noticed that Jo wasn't tough and rough around the edges like most of the kids he encountered. She was shy and unsure. She never spoke her mind and wasn't afraid to ask for help. He was curious about her. One night while they were holed up in their shared bedroom boring over their homework Alex snapped his textbook shut and turned to face her. "What's your story?"
Jo looked up at him with confusion painting her features. She dropped the pencil she was holding and leaned forward on her bed. "What story?"
Alex suppressed a chuckle. Now he definitely had to know. He met her eye and continued. "You know, how'd you end up in the system?"
Realization flashed across Jo's face. Her eyes became dark for a moment, then unsure. She was contemplating whether or not to tell him. He was about to open his mouth to convince her when she started speaking. "My parents had me when they were sixteen. When I was a baby my dad died. I lived with my grandparents and my mother. When I was five Grandpa died. Then a few months ago Grandma died. My mom tried to take care of me, but she really relied on them for help. One day she told me we were going on a trip and I went to a group home. Then I was with the Joneses..." Her voice trailed off at the mention of her other foster parents.
Alex nodded, but didn't say anything. He was hoping she would continue. When she didn't he shared his story. It was only fair, so he went on and on about the dive bars he frequented and tour buses he used to live on. When he was finished Jo didn't answer she simply nodded and returned to her work.
Later that night after they had both brushed their teeth and changed into pajamas they lay awake in the dark. The only sounds were the hum of the fridge outside their door and the even rise and fall of their chests. Jo sucked in a deep breath. "They used to hit me."
Alex knew she was talking about the Jonses. He didn't say anything. He'd been in that situation more then once and he knew their were no words to take away the pain. Instead he just listened as she retold all the horror stories of belts and slaps she endured while living with the family for only two months. Jo's voice wavered a lot and Alex knew she was crying. It made him angry that someone could intentionally hurt such an innocent little girl. His blood boiled and he wanted to cause physical harm to the man that thought it was okay to touch Jo.
He'd always wanted a little sister. Someone he could share secrets with and watch over. He wanted to set a good example and make sure she got what she deserved. For the first time since he'd been in foster care he really felt like Jo could be his family. He rolled over and drifted off to sleep, hoping Jo would accept him into her family.
PLEASE LEAVE REVIEWS AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! Look out for other chapters, I'm hoping to continue the story!