It's funny, isn't it?
How fast life changes.
How things can go from laughing to screaming in 2 seconds.
I never much liked that aspect of life.
And yet, that seems to happen to us. Jude and I. One second we were laughing while Jude is slipping on some of our foster father's ex wives dresses, and then… he came in. I know something was wrong just by looking at him. He was bedraggled, his sunken eyes slightly red. Was he high or drunk? I don't know, and the difference doesn't much matter to me. Jude, even though he is only eleven, realized something was wrong and quickly pulled off the dress. But he notices. "I leave the home for a few hours, and you take that as an opportunity to vandalize my stuff?" His voice is slurred, his walk is crooked. I take that he's drunk.
Jude froze, eyes wide. "S-sir, we were just… messing around. We didn't break anything, I promise!" He said it before I could stop it, and I looked at him with fearful eyes. It was obviously the wrong thing to say. The foster father, who's name was Adam, stepped forward, raising a fist at Jude. He tried to swing down, but I didn't let him. I punched him as hard as I can in the face, and run before he recovers from the shock. As I'm escaping the house, I hear him speak—
"Well, Jude," he started, his voice sinister. "Your sister ran. Seems she doesn't care as much as she-" the sound of me smashing his car with a baseball bat interrupted him. I smirked. It wasn't the best idea- but he didn't hurt Jude.
I should have realized that would've meant.
Three Months Later
I honestly expected to get beat up. Whatever. Not the first time it's happened, not the worst time it's happened either. Are you even human, Callie? I thought to myself, looking at the concrete as I walked out of the "juvenile detention center." Those girls were beating you up and you just lied there. Do you want to die? Perhaps I did. But this wasn't the time for that- I just thought that if I didn't put up a fight, I'd see Jude sooner.
My walking turned into a run when I saw Bill, my social worker. I approached him, swallowing hard. "Hi," I said, looking between him and the mixed woman standing by him. "Where's Jude?"
Bill sighed. "Callie, he's with his foster family. He's fine." I knew he wasn't fine. They never moved him out of that evil man's home. But I wouldn't get anything out of him, that I knew. Bill turned to the woman, who was about my height. "Callie, this is Lena. She was the first person I thought of when deciding where to place you next. Lena and her partner have three kids at home, two of which they adopted from the foster system. Lena, this is Callie. She's a wonderful girl, really- Aren't you, Callie?"
I shrugged. "Occasionally." Which was true.
Bill just smiled, pretending I didn't make that comment. "So you're taking me home?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. She looked much too nice for Bill to have picked her. He had a knack for placing me in the worst possible home he could.
Lena hesitated. Obviously not! Bruises must scare her. Too nice, of course. She looked me up and down, a look of pity on her face. A look I hated. "Well… It's just for a few weeks, right?"
Lena smiled at me and turned. "Come on, Callie, I'll walk you to my car. My house isn't that far." Lena pulled open the passenger door for me, and I stepped in. The entire ride I stared out the window, part of me wishing those girls had just killed me.
Lena parked outside of a house that was much too nice for me. It was small, sure, but it was a… quaint small. There were a lot of plants and small lawn ornaments outside of the house. I thought it was gorgeous. Just don't tell them that.
Lena walked me in, where three kids about my age instantly stopped whatever they were doing to look at me, the bruised girl. I was probably just another toy to them. Someone they could mock and poke around until it was finally, finally time for me to leave. That's what happened in my other foster homes. I ignored their stares and sat down at the island, joining the others. I stared at my fingernails, which were a bit bloody from my busted lip. I curled my hands into fists, hiding it away from the other kids.
The only girl stared up at Lena. "Um… who's this?" I could tell she was trying to be fake nice, but it wasn't really working. Lena smiled the best she could.
"Kids, this is Callie. She just got out of juvie and was in between foster homes, so I thought we could make her feel welcome for a few weeks until she can find a more permanent home." My god. She had to tell them about JUVIE? What kind of first introduction is that? "Hey, kids! Look at this beaten up girl who clearly hates all of you! She was in jail! She'll be living with us! Make her feel welcome!" It sounded so ridiculous, even in my head. Two of the kids, one of the boys and the girl, looked incredulously at me, but the other boy just smiled.
"I'm Brandon," the older looking boy said, sitting in the seat next to me. "I'm Stef's son. This is Jesus and Mariana," he explained, motioning to the boy and the girl. I glanced at them, before looking back down at my placemat.
"That's nice," I said sarcastically. "I'm Callie. Don't know who Stef is." His smile faded slightly, but I'm sure he was taught to be nice to guests or whatever. "Oh, and if you're wondering, I was in juvie for beating up someone's car with a baseball bat."
They didn't move, but I know they were wondering.
Everyone was silent for awhile. The kids just exchanged glances with each other and with Lena, who was quietly fixing dinner. I half expected her reprimand me, tell me to stop being so mean, or something like that. But she didn't. Don't feel guilty, I warned myself, rubbing my left hand with my right. They don't care about you. They're being nice.
That night, I slept on the couch. I had trouble sleeping. Earlier that day, just as Lena was serving dinner, a woman came home. Stef was her name, she said. I may have made some… rather rude comments about her sexuality. Stef tried to smile at me, tell me it was nice to meet me, but I knew she was lying. And now I hated myself for it.
It took me hours to get in a happy mindset. I closed my eyes, tried to smile…
But then I remembered Jude.
I sprang up from the couch, thinking. I knew his phone number by heart. I can call him…. That kid, Brandon. He was using a phone earlier. If I can just sneak into his room… I tiptoed out of the living room and up the stairs, glancing around to be sure no one else was awake. No one was. I looked in each of the rooms. In one, the Jesus kid was sleeping. In the other, Mariana. One last shot— Brandon's room. I quietly pushed it open, wincing when it creaked, but he slept like a log. I slowly moved forward, unplugging his iPhone and running out the door and down the stairs. I typed in Jude's number. "Baby? It's me. I'm going to get you, I just… need to figure out how."
I had to go to school, that I knew. That probably wasn't going to be easy. People are cruel. Not that I really cared- publicly, at least. Put up a tough front, I decided, and they'd leave you alone. Make them afraid of pretty much nothing. After all, I did go to jail. I beat up a car! I'm vicious.
The thought made me want to laugh.
After lunch, I walked past the beach, looking down. "Callie!" I heard someone calling my name and I turned, tensed. It was Mariana, biting her lip. "Um… if you're leaving, I'd take the back way. It's only a few blocks to the metro." I paused. Was she trying to help me or trying to get me into trouble? It was a lead, I suppose. I nodded and walked in the other direction, not bothering to thank her.
I knew when I stepped off campus that someone was following me. I ignored whoever it was, simply walking faster. Jude. Jude. Had to get to Jude. San Ysidro was pretty far— but not too far. I could make it, I thought. Stef and Lena will probably report me missing or something stupid. I'd probably get removed from their house and placed into another shitty one- but I'd have Jude, and I can protect him. I always do.
"Callie, wait." I turned. Brandon? What was he following me for? He was definitely the last person I would expect to be off school grounds, technically breaking the rules. "What are you doing?"
"Will you just mind your own business? Go back to school. Wouldn't want to ruin your perfect record or whatever."
"Callie, come on- you can't leave, you'll get in trouble- god, why does this number keep calling me?" He pulled his vibrating phone out of his pocket, looking down on the screen. Jude's number. I lunged forward and grabbed the phone, clicking accept. "Who is that?"
"I borrowed your phone."
"Callie!" The voice on the other end was a hushed whisper. Jude was probably hiding from him. I instantly smiled.
"Hey, baby, I'm on my way to get you right now, hang in there— Jude, what do you mean? Baby, it's okay, I won't get sent back, I'll see you soon, okay? I'm going to the metro right now. What? Okay, I love you, I'll see you soon."
I handed the phone back to Brandon, who looked confused. "Who's that? Your boyfriend?" I raised an eyebrow.
"As if. Look, I'm going to the metro, so you should probably go back to school." I kept walking. So did he.
"Nope, I'm coming with you. If I let you get in trouble, my moms will kill me."
"Won't they kill you anyway?" I asked him, not looking back at him as I walked. "Sneaking to San Ysidro with the new girl?"
"Probably. But I'm guessing you don't want to go to jail."
"And I'm guessing you don't want to either."
"Let's just get to the metro without killing each other, okay?" he put his hands up in surrender. I shook my head.
"Whatever makes you sleep at night."
It took us about an hour and a half to walk all the way to the metro station. Brandon paid for his ticket, and then mine. I didn't want him to, but he insisted. I think he's an idiot.
We boarded the train silently. It had gotten dark by the time we had purchased the ticket and boarded the train. "Hey," I said, breaking the silence. "Didn't you have that music thing tonight?"
He frowned, looking down at his lap. He seemed to have forgotten. Hesitating, he finally said, "there'll be others." I don't know if I believed him. "So, um… I don't want to be mean, but… how'd you get in juvie?"
I looked over at him quickly. "Didn't I tell you? I beat up someone's car with a baseball bat."
He nodded. "Well, yeah, but why? Whose?"
Oh. I swallowed, not knowing if he would really understand. He had been nice enough so far, perhaps it would be nice to have a sort of friend. I didn't want him to think I was a crazy chick who randomly decided to beat up someone's car. "Well… he was my last foster father. My brother, Jude, the one we're going to get, tried on one of his ex wives dresses. He walked in and totally went berserk. He started beating him up and kicked me when I tried to fight back. So I beat up his car. Police didn't believe me, though. They believed him. So they took him to juvie. That's, um, where we're going."
"He just hit him? Why?"
"Well, he did it all the time. He hit me, too, just he never hit us that hard. I had to stop it. I couldn't let him hurt Jude."
Brandon paused. "What about you?"
I bit my lip, thinking. "Jude's more important."
We rode the rest of the way to San Ysidro in silence.
Brandon and I approached that evil house and I looked at him. "Okay, here's the plan. You go to his door, ask him for directions to the metro. I'll sneak in the back way and get Jude. We leave. That easy." Things are never that easy. I knew that. But chances are, I'd just get a few more bruises and Brandon would call the cops and I'd stay in a holding cell for a night. But with the evident bruises again they'd probably move Jude somewhere safe. Maybe, if I was lucky, to the Fosters with me.
"I can do that."
Brandon walked to the front door, with me tiptoeing to the back. I glanced through the curtain on the door. Brandon knocked on the door, and my old foster father, obviously annoyed, got up and walked up to the door. As they started to talk, I slowly pushed the door open. "Jude!" I whispered at the boy in the kitchen. He turned and smiled, starting to run towards me. But he was loud.
Adam turned. "You! What are you doing here? I thought I got rid of you three months ago, you ungrateful little-"
"I just want to see Jude, he's my brother, I-"
"SHUT UP! I don't need you in my house fucking things up, you always do. Always disappearing, always returning at one in the morning, always waking me up! You never think of anyone but yourself, do you?"
"Just let me see Jude, I don't want to-" I gasped. Adam pulled open a drawer, grabbing hold of a gun.
"Sir, don't do that, there's no need for that!" Brandon said from behind Adam, his eyes wide. Adam turned, waving the gun in his face.
"Now listen here," he said, looking at Brandon but pointing the gun at me. I gulped, unable to breathe. "You are ruining my life for the last- Hey! What are you- this is private property!"
"Police!" A woman shouted. Stef. And her partner. They kicked open the door, and Stef quickly embraced her son, gun still pointed at Adam.
Adam froze, staring from Stef to me, gun lazily aimed somewhere around my stomach. I finally thought I was safe. But I wasn't.
Because then, he shot.
Anddd that's chapter one. I've never written for the Fosters, but I really love this show, so I hope it's okay. By the way, my name is Lux and I'm seventeen. I really like writing, and photography, and Maia Mitchell. I really hope you guys like this! I should have another chapter up soon. By the way, I'm not sure if I should take this into a Brallie direction or not? I love Brallie, but I know Callie deserves a family… If you guys have a preference, I'd love if you'd tell me :) Thanks for reading!
~ Lux
