Authors note: So I realize that Lords of Dogtown is dated, and I'm sure no one will stumble upon this but that's okay. This is my fan fiction baby, and it's been rewritten 3 times since maybe 2007, I'm hoping to add some finality to it. Being that it's been so long, I no longer have access to my original fanfiction account so I had to make a new one. If you would like to read the original Foster Girl, it's under my old pen name of Wasting Words. My writing skills have obviously grown since then, and although I'm trying to keep the characters and plot somewhat similar there have been some edits from the 2012 version. Name pronunciation, if anyone DOES read this, is Sabree. Yeah. I don't own LoD except my OC's. Here we go.

"Sabree, are you ready?"

She glanced at the door, ignoring the soft voice of the social worker and returned her attention to the mirror in front of her. She ran a hand through her lavender locks and bunched them up at the top of her head, making it look like some exotic animal took residence in her hair. Her eyes met her reflection, one amber eye, the other an ocean blue, a genetic defect she was born with, as she prepared her make up for the day. Because of this defect, her peers at the foster home often referred to her as a mutant, a nickname she was more than happy to carry. A quick swipe of eyeliner tapering off into a cat eye and red lipstick that well complimented her porcelain skin, she was ready to face the day.

"Sabree?"

"Give me a minute."

Her third foster home in two months, eleventh foster home in two years, it seemed as time went on the less she seemed to fit in. It was a life style she'd become quite accustom to, living out of a suitcase. Would this home be any different? She shook the thought out of her head. Who cares? She was more than content with her gypsy life. The door clicked open behind her and she turned her body to face the overwhelmingly nice Paula.

"Fuck, Paula, I said give me a minute. For Christ's sake."

The social worker shrugged off her remark and pulled her into a warm hug.

"Jesus, Paula, control yourself," Paula persevered, awash in the delusion that after all these years Sabree Thomas had finally found her forever home.

With a final squeeze, she broke the hug but kept her hand on either side of the girls face. The loving and hopeful gaze she held quickly vanished and the crows feet around her eyes tightened upon seeing the hoop going through the teens left nostril.

"Why would you go and stick a dirty needle through your nose like that? You're face is pr—"

"Because that's how piercings work, Paula. I like it, and it's staying."

She chuckled and handed a bag of clothes to Sabree. "I picked you up some new clothes, I don't personally agree with what I picked out but it's definitely your style. I figured new home, new clothes right?"

Sabree rolled her eyes and began sifting through the bag. A black, lace, belly baring top, a red flannel shirt, and destroyed denim shirts. "Damn, Paula. I'm surprised…dare I say I even like these clothes?"

Paula gave a modest shrug. "You know, you can pretend to be cynical all you want but I know that you hope this new family works out as much as I do. I'm going to miss you so much, you're one of my favorites here but I really feel like this is 'the one'. Now get dressed, we're running late."

….

Venice was hot and miserable on this particular day, the sweat causing Sabree's thighs to stick to the leather interior of the car like scotch tape despite the air conditioning running full blast.

Cher was coming through the speakers softly, and Paula was continuing on about how happy she was. Small talk was never something Sabree excelled at but she entertained the conversation with occasional 'mhm's' and 'yep's.' Her mind was somewhere else, as much as she knew this home would toss her out within a months' time, there was a small sliver of hope that Paula was right and this was indeed 'the one.'

She pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window, taking in the passing houses. They all looked eerily alike, from the white picket fence down to every minute detail such as the same flowers in the flower beds and creepy garden gnomes; a page straight from Better Home and Garden magazine. They were large, white, and perfect—she'd never been taken in by a wealthy family before.

"Welcome home, girl. I met with this family a few months back and they are absolutely fabulous. The mother and father travel a lot for work but they have a son right around your age. You're being left in very good hands." Sabree shifted her bag in her lap as she surveyed the house. Paula was already at the door and motioned for her to come up.

"Paula, it's so nice to see you again! I can't tell you how long we've been waiting for this moment!" She clasped her hands over her heart as she turned to Sabree. She was beautiful, trying to fight the age of 38 and doing it oh so well. Her emerald eyes sparkled with delight and no look of judgement passed her face upon seeing the 16 year old. "Thank you so, so much for this wonderful gift." She was choking back happy years as she encompassed Sabree in a hug. A proud and handsome male stood next to her, with a strong jawline and dark hair decorated with a proud silver streak on the side, and patted Sabree on the back. Not the touchy feely type, thank God.

"Oh, no. Don't, stop, please do- okay, well this is happening I guess." Sabree muttered. The woman's hug deepened despite her protest.

She peeked over her shoulder into the front room that was festooned with a so cliché but hand crafted 'welcome home' banner, the living room table covered with a spread of snacks. A small canvas with flourish cursive that read, 'for this child, we have prayed,' was a center piece of it all.

"We are so thrilled to have you here, Sabree. I'm Teresa, this is my husband Clark, and my son, Tyler. Welcome to the family, dear. I can already tell you're going to fit in just fine. I'm going to go get the main dinner started, I'll leave you and Paula to say your goodbyes. Clark? Tyler? Would you mind giving them a moment?"

Sabree's eyes landed on Tyler and he was a carbon copy of his good looking father, the only notable difference was he had his mother's eyes. When she turned to look at Paula, her eyes were already swelling with tears. She took cupped Sabree's face in her small hands, grazing her thumb over her cheek.

"It's been a crazy ride, Sabe. I know how much you've been through but I am so honored to have seen your transformation through it all. You're tough, girl, but I know in my heart of hearts that this will be that last place I leave you." She pressed her lips to Sabree's forehead, the tears coming full force now. She used the heel of palm to brush away the salty liquid dripping down her cheeks then pulled Sabree in for a final hug. "I know you hate being touched but I'm going to miss you so much. I mean that."

Sabree brought her arms around Paula's waist, tearing up herself but she forced them away. She had never been a crier. "Iloveyou."

"Wait, you what me? I didn't quite catch that." Oh, she had heard. But she wanted Sabree to say it, just for the sake of teasing her one last time.

"Damnit, Paula," She cleared her throat, "I said, I love you. Thanks for everything, or whatever."

….

With Paula gone, there was nothing left to save her from what was sure to be a very awkward introduction dinner. They said grace. Grace, for hell's sake.

Sabree used her fork to move her food around, not really having an appetite but not wanting to seem unappreciative of the cooking Teresa had done.

"So, Sabree, tell me a little about yourself. I mean, I know your family history but I want to know about you. What are your dreams, goals, or aspirations for the future?"

Sabree slouched in her chair, giving a shrug. "Maybe a hot dog eating champion or a serial killer. Haven't decided yet." She looked at Teresa to see her reaction.

"Oh, my. I'll get used to your sense of humor in time, I suppose. You've probably had a long day, if you'd like to clear your plate and head to your room for the night that's fine by me. We have plenty of time to get to know each other later." She winked, cutting her steak into small pieces.

….

Her room was amazing, at least three times the size of her room at the foster home. There was a walk in closet, a queen sized bed covered in floral bedding, resembling something that a grandmother would have made. A large window was on the wall opposite her bed, perfectly accessing the slanted roof where she immediately decided that would be where she would spend most of her time. She tucked her skateboard away in an empty corner next to her bed then threw open her suitcase, digging around her clothes for a baggie that held three tightly rolled joints.

She held the joint between her red lips, opening the window to perch on her perfect hide away. All of Venice was in front of her, lit only by moonlight. The moon was so close, she could reach out and touch it if she wanted to.

She lit the joint and inhaled, letting the marijuana take its full effect before exhaling the smoke. She'd been all around California but not one place she'd visited could compare to the view in front of her. She wondered about Tyler and why he didn't fit in with his clean cut parents. He looked similar to the boys she'd met in foster care, grungy and beach bummy. Had he always been that way? Was he simply rebelling, tired of the quiet and boring life his parents had laid out for him?

As if he had read her mind, his voice broke through her thoughts. "So that was a super awesome dinner conversation," he started, taking a seat next to her. "Mom likes to pry, she thinks she's being friendly but she doesn't realize not everyone is an open book." Sabree's only reply was passing the joint to him. He declined with a wave of his hand before continuing. "What's your story, foster girl?"