Amy tapped her pencil against the side of her desk as she stared at the clock. She had finished with her class work which was relatively simple. Seventh grade work wasn't meant to be difficult. She watched the hands of the clock slowly circle around. 2:57. 2:58. 2:59. FREEDOM. The bell rang. Grabbing her books, she slipped them off the desk and into her hands before dashing out of the room. Her locker was right across the hall from her last class. Opening it, she threw her books in and slammed the locker shut before taking off out the front door.

"Voight, slow down," her math teacher reprimanded her, but was ignored.

Amy reached the bike racks. She found her bike and set course for home. The house wasn't far from the school so it took her only about five minutes to swing into the driveway and spot John Connor, the foster boy her parents were taking care of, working on his motorcycle. His best friend Tim sat by him. This was a normal scene, but Amy leaned on her bike and watched the two of them.

"You skipped school…again," she noted, sliding off her bicycle.

John scowled at her and picked up a wrench.

"So?"

She wheeled her bike into the garage, ignoring Tim's stare. She caught a glance of John kicking his friend out of his stupor. She smiled as Tim shrugged at his friend's irritated look. Sitting down on an upturned bucket on the other side of John's bike, she looked at him seriously.

"You're well on your way to being a delinquent."

"Need I repeat my two letter question?"

She sighed. John had always been difficult with her. She didn't dislike him. He actually intrigued her. She had horrible parents, even she knew that, but John looped his opinion of her in with them. It had resulted in unnecessary rudeness. Most of the time, he just ignored her existence.

"Why do you need to skip school along with all the other things you've been doing?"

John groaned and worked on his bike.

"Amy, seriously, mind your own business. Blame my mother for raising me like the world is going to end because of robots. Just save me your speech and go away, Goody Two-shoes."

She hesitated for a moment, slightly insulted, but got up and moved off into the house. John turned to watch her leave before going back to his bike. Tim let out an unsatisfied groan.

"Dude, your foster sister is hot. Not to mention she's the human form of candy. I've never seen her be mean to anyone. Why the hell do you treat her like crap?"

John ignored his mullet headed friend and the subject dropped. But John couldn't help glancing back up at the upturned bucket she had been sitting on before shaking his head.

"She's not my sister," he mumbled to himself.

When Tim had left and John went inside, he found that Amy had snuck Max into her room. She frequently did this despite the fact that her parents, Janelle and Todd, hated having the dog in the house. It irritated John slightly that Max was his dog, yet he loved Amy just as much as he loved John. He slipped into her room, making her and the dog look up.

"Max," John called to the dog.

Neither moved for a moment, but Max got off her bed and went over to John. He rubbed his pet's head before looking back at Amy.

"You need to stop bringing the dog in here. Your parents will get pissed."

Amy pulled her legs up under her and pouted slightly. Her head tilted forward, her mid-back length light brown hair falling in front of her face.

"He likes me…"

"Yeah, well, he's a dog and he's old."

Amy looked up at him, a little hurt. John looked away and down at his dog. Max was looking up at him, which made him feel suddenly guilty. Rolling his eyes, he went and sat next to Amy on her bed. Max followed and laid his head on Amy's lap. John watched as she smiled and pet the content animal.

"Did the school call your parents about me skipping school?"

She shook her head.

"I told them you were sick and that my parents were too busy taking care of you. Like they'd do that…"

She looked at him, her brown eyes meeting his green ones.

"How have you survived in this house?" he asked her.

Amy smiled at him.

"I don't call it surviving. I stay quiet, do as I'm told, and take care of myself. Makes them leave me alone and provide me only with what I need. I'm not hassled. Don't ask me why they wanted to be foster parents. Maybe they assumed all kids were like me. But you're making them work and that's entertaining to me."

"Hmm…"

John leaned over and petted his dog.

"You're not like them, are you?"

"Took you awhile, John."

"JOHN! AMY!"

The two looked up to see Janelle standing in the doorway.

"I told the two of you I don't want the dog in this house. Who brought him in?"

Amy slowly began to raise her hand, but John put his hand on hers, keeping it on the bed.

"I did."

The girl turned and stared at him with alarm as Janelle glared at him.

"Wait, no, it was me-"

"John, I've told you not to bring the dog up here."

"He's a dog; it isn't like he's harming anything. He's just sitting there."

"Get it out of my house."

Amy stood up, slipping through John's attempt to stop her, and went over to her mother.

"Mom, I did it. I let the dog in the house. I just wanted to play with it."

Her mother stared at her.

"You? Amy, you know not to bring the dog in here."

"But John's right, the dog isn't-"

Janelle raised her hand to slap her daughter, but John got off the bed and shouted.

"DON'T HIT HER!"

The woman stopped and John pulled a flinching Amy away from her mother.

"We'll just put the dog outside!"

Janelle scowled.

"Don't corrupt Amy into doing things she never used to. I can see you're trying to rope her into shoplifting and vandalizing…"

"Mom!"

John snorted and grabbed Max's collar.

"You're right. I'm trying to corrupt her. Great deduction. I'm putting my dog outside now."

"John!" Amy protested, but he disappeared around the corner.

Janelle said nothing more to her daughter and left in a huff to go back downstairs. Amy ran to her bedroom window. She watched as John put Max back in his kennel, only to sneak off around the side of the house. Turning, Amy dashed down the stairs and quietly out the front door. She met John at the garage as he was getting on his bike.

"John, stop," she said, putting a hand on the handlebars.

"I'm going out."

"I know. Will you take me with you?"

John stared at her completely serious face. His lips slowly formed a smirk.

"You wanna?"

Amy nodded. John slipped slightly forward on his bike and patted the spot behind him. She went around and swung herself onto his bike. When her hands had wrapped around his waist, he put the bike into motion and they took off down the dark road.