"How about this one?"

She held up a navy suit. It was okay. It reminded him of his former johns. They usually wore navy or black suits. Had respectable jobs. Families. While they fucked an underaged (even if they didn't know it) street boy in the back seats of their cars.

Rusty shook his head. "Yuck!"

Sharon smiled. "Tell me how you really feel."

"I always do, Sharon."

"And I'm grateful for that."

So was Rusty. Before Sharon, no one had ever listened to him, not really. He hadn't trusted her right way, but she had many opportunities to get rid of him, and she never took them. He learned to trust her-and her team.

"Do you see anything in here you like?"

He shook his head.

"Neither do I." She smiled.

"What now?"

"Hmm. Depends. Are you hungry? I think there's still a few burger places we haven't tried."

He rolled his eyes. "I could eat, I guess."

"Shopping always makes me hungry too."

Rusty catalogued that information away with the other pieces he'd learned about her. In a lot of ways, they were very similar. Neither like to cry in front of people, but they were okay with crying in front of each other. They were both sarcastic. Could easily see through bull shit. And they were usually on the same page. Like with Mr. Dunn.

He hoped Mr. Dunn wouldn't ruin everything for him. He was getting to the point where he was almost happy. Hell, he was happy. He had friends, a stable home, warm meals, and Sharon.

It took him awhile to want to call his foster parent, Sharon. It was hard calling her by his mother's name. He stopped caring about that, though. They may have shared a name, but their similarities ended there. And Sharon-his Sharon-was buying him a suit. What had his mother ever done for him?

They walked out of the store. "There's a burger place in the food court that's not bad."

"Not bad? That's not very promising."

"No? And where would you like to eat, Rusty?"

She was challenging him, but he knew she would take him anywhere he wanted.

"What other stores are we going to? Maybe we should eat the 'not bad' burgers now, and get better food after."

She shook her head but smiled. "I had forgotten how much teenage boys can eat."

"You always keep up with me."

"Watch it, buster."

"Whatya gonna do, Sharon?"

"You should see what I can do with a beanbag gun."

"Will you show Mr. Dunn that trick?"

She turned serious. Rusty was afraid of her answer. "If I have to, I will, yes."

He nodded. Feeling much safer, knowing she had his back. "My stomach's eating itself. Can we eat now?"

"Let's go."

She led them to the 'not bad' burger place. Rusty knew her praise was rare, so 'not bad' probably meant 'awesome.' That didn't mean he wouldn't hold out for another meal later. If the next store was as lame as the one they were in, they'd both need a good meal.