June 2013
I sat in the kitchen, blankly staring at a wall, while Lena and two Latino children—one boy with fixed brown hair and a mature face; and one girl with wavy black hair and a perky smile—prepared dinner.
"Oh, I'm sorry Callie, I forgot to introduce the twins. This is Mariana and Jesus," Lena mentioned, attempting to break the awkward stares from across the room.
"Hm, twins; that's interesting," I mumbled to myself.
"They were both in the foster system, too, you know," Lena continued. "They came to us about eight years ago and we formally adopted them about..." she paused to remember, "five years ago," she finished, a little hesitant.
"Yup, it's been about five years, now, Mom," Mariana assured Lena.
"The foster system sucks," Jesus expressed adamantly.
"Jesus—" Lena said, disapprovingly.
"Well, it kind of does," Mariana interjected.
"Okay, that's enough from the two of you. Focus on setting the table,"
"So what happened to your face?" Jesus asked me, changing the subject. "Did you get into a fight?"
"Err—Callie's kind of had a rough day, so how about we cool it with the questions for today?" Lena declared.
"Uh, where's the bathroom?" I asked.
"Uh, it's right through there," Lena gestured kindly toward the hallway. "You'll see it."
I left the room to wash my face.
I returned to the kitchen, seeing another unfamiliar face present at the table. Lena mentioned something about a piano recital involving a five thousand dollar scholarship and I really could've cared less.
"Oh my gosh, when is the performance?" Mariana asked.
"The final performance is tomorrow evening and I expect all of us to attend, so make sure to finish your homework right after school, please," Lena announced as I sat at the dining table.
"Oh, um, who is this?" asked a boy with curly brown hair and a baby face, looking back at Lena.
"This is Callie. She's going to be staying with us for a little while," Lena introduced.
"Oh, uh, okay—staying with us for a little while; Well, nice to," he paused, "meet you," he stuttered, seeming dumbfounded, as he served me a slice of Lena's freshly baked lasagna.
"What about him?" I said.
"What?" Lena responded, wondering if she had missed something important.
"How'd you get him?" I continued casually. "—the ninety-nine cents store? I mean, they have everything there..." I scoffed. Mariana glared at me, like she was astounded by my comment.
"Well, Callie, Brandon is my partner Stephanie's biological son from her previous marriage," Lena explained.
"Hey honey!" Lena welcomed as yet another new person entered the house.
"Hi," she replied. "Ooh, great, lasagna! Delicious," she continued toward the dinner table. Muwah! She kissed Lena. "Hi babies!" she shouted, referring to us, as she opened the refrigerator for a can of refreshing beer.
"What? Nobody told you our mom's a cop?" Jesus asked, jokingly
"See? This is why no boys ever wanna come over," Mariana added, sassily.
"As it should be," the blonde haired woman in the cop uniform emphasized.
"So you're dykes?" I stated bluntly. All of a sudden, the room went quiet and everyone stared at me with mixed feelings.
"They prefer the term 'people', but yeah, they're gay," Jesus said sarcastically.
"And he's the real son?" I clarified, pointing at Brandon to my left. No one denied nor confirmed my comment and silence struck the room, again.
The blonde lady chuckled awkwardly as if she wasn't offended and asked, "So, who's this?"
I unpacked all of my belongings—not that I had very many—temporarily in the guest bedroom. I placed my precious framed photograph of Jude and me on the nightstand, tossed my shoulder bag off to the side, and spread out on the comfortable bed. I wonder if this place has landline phones. I examined the entire room with no telephone in sight. I need to contact Jude. Maybe one of the other kids has a phone I can borrow—I saw Brandon with one at the dinner table. I could hear Brandon's music blaring from his bedroom, so I snuck over to his room and peeked in to see what he was doing. Really? You're reading "The Great Gatsby"? I took this opportunity to stealthily snatch Brandon's iPhone, which was conveniently off to the side, closer to the door. I quickly dialed the number Bill, our foster care agent, provided for me, hoping Jude would pick up. No one answered. I left a brief message, not mentioning my name because I knew Jude would recognize me and Jarett wouldn't. Please let Jude be all right. He's a good kid who deserves better.
The next morning, we all left for my first day of school at Anchorage Beach Community Charter School at different times. First Mariana, who occupied the bathroom for nearly an hour this morning making the rest of us late for breakfast, rushed out of the house, overly dressed up for school, to meet her best friend, Lexi. Then Jesus rode out on his skateboard with a PB&J in his mouth, beanie over his head, a striped tank top, and khakis. Brandon, who seemed the most typical wearing a collared shirt and jeans, walked out shortly after Jesus, texting his girlfriend, Talya, on his fancy iPhone. And lastly, there was me. Stef and Lena held me back longer than the rest of us.
"Callie, now that you will be living with our family, you need to abide by our general house and school rules," Stef declared immediately.
"Yes, we expect you to stay out of trouble, since you are out of Juvie on parole," Lena added.
"Yeah, okay. Let's get on with it before I'm late for school," I replied, hoping to escape sooner rather than later.
"Woah, hold it there young lady. First of all, you'll definitely need to get rid of that nasty attitude of yours if you expect to live here," Stef said, astounded by my response.
"Calm down, Stef. Callie just needs a little time to adjust and learn to trust us," Lena intervened.
"Okay, it's not like I haven't been through this whole 'rule' process before. I can handle myself, thank you very much," I reasoned, grabbing my brown paper lunch sack on my way out of the kitchen and toward the front door.
"Fine, we will discuss the rules another time—whenever you're ready, Callie," Stef said in defeat.
"Great. I'll see you when I return home."
On my way to school, I noticed how the neighborhood seemed comforting. The autumn colored leaves swirled in the wind as I walked peacefully to the sound of silence. I know that this family is temporary just like all of the others in the past, but maybe I should try to enjoy myself for once. I just cannot allow Jude to become so attached—not like the Olmsteads. The Fosters seem different from the Olmsteads, in the sense that there are more foster children like Jude and me, and in the sense that they do not give off any vibes of hostility. Despite this, the Olmsteads once felt like a safe family, but that was not the case.
I arrived at school, completely lost and seeing no familiar faces, except for the twins and Brandon. Mariana sat with her posse: Lexi and Kelsey, Jesus participated in volleyball with his other jockey friends, and I knew I could always find Brandon in the music room practicing piano or hanging out with Talya. Everyone else around here in the crowd segregated into various cliques—the jocks, the nerds, the popular kids, etc.—like any other schools. All I have to do is blend in and hang low and I'll be all right.
"Hey Callie. Do you need some help finding your way around?" Brandon asked, popping up behind me.
"Oh, I think I'll be fine for today. If I need help, I'll just ask Lena in her office," I replied reclusively, knowing that Lena probably sent him to be nice to me.
"You know you can talk to the rest of us, too, right? We don't bite."
"I know that, but I don't want to interfere with any of your school or social lives. Everyone around here probably already knows that I came from Juvie..."
"Woah, you came from Juvie?" Brandon asked, astonished.
"What? Stef and Lena didn't tell you yet?" I replied, confused.
"No, they haven't told us," Brandon answered, slightly perturbed.
"Is that a problem for you?" I asked feeling a little insulted.
"Oh, no, it's just strange that Stef and Lena hasn't told us—they're usually very open with the entire family."
"Well, okay then. I'll see you later," I said, leaving at the ring of the school bell.
I need to find Jude and save him from the likes of Jarett. Jude needs me. I asked various bystanders cruising in the hallways if they had access to a car, but none of them would give me a ride. "You were just released from Juvie" and "I don't even know you" were the common responses. Finally, Mariana approached me, as if she had something to offer.
"So, I heard you're looking for a ride," she said, mockingly.
"Yeah, what's it to you? It's not like you can drive," I replied coolly, trying to brush her off of my trail.
"Jeez, no need to be so hostile, Callie. I'm your family now, remember?" Mariana seemed overly offended.
"Yeah, I know," I sighed, rolling my eyes. "I can find another way. Don't concern yourself, Mariana."
"Well, I just thought I'd be nice and let you know that there's a bus stop a few blocks away and to be cautious of Lena—the bus stop is behind her office."
"Wow, that's actually really helpful. Thanks," I said reluctantly.
"Yeah, don't mention it. Good luck finding wherever it is you're going."
I hustled over to the bus stop. On the way there, Brandon somehow managed to catch me.
"Callie! Wait up! Where are you going?" Brandon shouted.
Ugh, what does he want? Why does he have to show up at the most inopportune time? I turned around to face him.
"What do you care? Ugh, can you just mind your own damn business—your whole freakin' family?" I replied harshly.
"We're just trying to help you," he said, clearly irritated by my attitude.
"Just stop it, okay? I don't need you," I said harshly.
"Gosh, would you just drop your heartless-girl act already?!"
"I'm sorry, I thought you didn't have a problem with me, Brandon. I can't simply 'drop my heartless-girl act'; that's just who I am," I countered.
Buzz, buzz. Brandon's iPhone vibrated. He paused and stared at the phone number illuminated on the screen. "Someone's been calling me from this number all day." I snatched Brandon's phone away from him as soon as I recognized the number. I answered the call.
"Hey baby, it's me. What's going on? What do you mean? Jude, what are you saying?" He sounded like he was on speakerphone. "Let me talk to Jude. Put him back on the phone," I demanded. Jarett ended the call, refusing to let me speak to Jude. I really hope he's not hurting because of me.
"What's going on? Who was that? How did he get my phone number?" Brandon blurted, asking way too many questions.
"Uh, I borrowed your phone last night—I gotta go," I answered, shoving his phone back into his hands.
"Who was that, Callie? Was that like your boyfriend or something?" Brandon continued.
"No, definitely not," I chortled.
"Then who was that?" Brandon demanded to know the answer.
I stopped walking and turned to him; "That was my brother."
"Do you realize how rash and dangerous your actions were just now? You could've got yourselves killed!" Stef reprimanded.
"I had to save Jude. You saw how Jarett lashed out just now," I pleaded.
"Why didn't you just ask me? You know that I'm a police officer, Callie." Stef escorted Brandon, Jude, and me to the car and walked toward Lena.
"Lena, sweetie, we can't throw these kids back into the foster system—I won't allow it," Stef declared.
"I know, but we don't have enough space for two more," Lena rationalized.
"We'll make room."
Since I did not have any friends to hangout with at lunch, I ate in the presence of me, myself, and I in the general music room. After I finished, I noticed a tan, polished, string instrument, in a decent condition, collecting dust in the back of the room. I strummed the six strings as they produced an appalling sound. I proceeded to adjust the sound by ear until I could hear the melodic chord: low E, A, D, G, B, and high E. Once I finished tweaking the sound, the door creaked open.
"Oh, hi Callie. I didn't expect to see you here," Brandon said as he popped his head in from behind the door.
"Well, who were you expecting? Talya?" I asked.
"Definitely not Talya; Nobody really come here, unless someone is looking for me," Brandon clarified.
"I see. I guess I'll leave you don't want to, Callie. I'd be more than glad to share the space," Brandon offered politely.
"Oh, no, that's okay. I only came to eat my lunch, away from all of the other kids. Besides, you need the space to practice for your recital tonight," I declined.
"Nah, I'm already ready for that. No need to worry—just continue strumming that guitar you've got over there," Brandon insisted.
"Who me? I think you may've misunderstood something; I can't play the guitar," I lied.
"Really? Is that so? How'd you know to tune it so well, earlier?"
"When did I tune it?"
"I saw and heard you tuning it from outside—the walls aren't exactly soundproof, you know. Dammit, I shouldn't have let my guard down so easily. Who knows what other questions he's going to harass me with...
"Oh, you see, about that... Well, I'm not a very talented musician like you seem to be, you know," I confessed, actually somewhat complimenting him. Brandon and I continued chatting over lunch in the music room for the remainder of the break period.