Stef

I pull into the Anchor Beach parking lot and put the car in park. Students are milling around the courtyard which leads me to believe we have come during lunch. I get out the car and wait for Callie to get out as well. I take in her awe-stricken face and I hold back a laugh. The appearance of the school tends to have that effect on people.

I nudge Callie's shoulder to get her attention, "Let's go find Lena."

I lead her through the campus and to the entrance of the school. The hallways are pretty scarce and it doesn't take us long to get to Lena's office. I knock on the door and open it as soon as I get the 'okay.' We enter to find Lena sitting at her desk, laptop out and papers strewn about her desk. She smiles at us.

"Hi, guys. How did you sleep, Callie?"

"Okay."

I take a seat in one of the armchairs opposite Lena's desk and Callie sits in the other. Lena clasps her hands together and leans forward at her desk.

"So, Callie," she begins, "Since this is a charter school, you'll need to take an entrance exam. Don't stress about it too much; I'm sure you'll do just fine. It's a test of your reading, writing, math and basic science skills. You'll be put into the eleventh grade, same grade as Brandon. Any questions so far?" Callie shakes her head so Lena continues, "Your placement test will also tell us where you are in terms of school. You'll need to take English, math, social studies, science, a foreign language, and an elective. I know this might sound overwhelming but I promise you, you'll get used to it."

Lena stands up, "Would you like to look around the school?" She leads the way and Callie and I follow her down the hall. We stop into empty classrooms as well as the library. We get to the music room and we allow Callie to look around by herself so that we can talk.

"How was she this morning?" Lena asks softly.

I turn my head to watch Callie as she looks at the different instruments, "She was…fine. Still very closed off. I talked to Captain Roberts."

"What did she say?"

"That Callie can stay with us," I reply, "I actually have to go to the station after this just to get the details in order." At this point Callie has stopped in front of a guitar that stands on a display. She reaches out a hand before dropping it to her side. After a moment, she reaches out her hand again and delicately touches the neck. I wonder if she knows how to play, "I also want to see if I can find her little brother for her."

"Do you know where he is?"

"With the foster father whose car Callie destroyed."

Lena's eyebrows knitted together, "And they just left him in the house?" The best I can offer is a shrug. Neither of us understand how the system works most of the time. It seems like more often than not, the kids in it always get the opposite of what they need. Callie comes out of the room and stands expectantly.

"Anything else you want to see?" I ask. She shakes her head, "Alright, we can head down to the station now." I kiss Lena good-bye and lead Callie out of the school.

I lead Callie through the police station and to my desk. She's taking in the new environment apprehensively. I can't blame her. If I had her record, I would feel uncomfortable in a cop station, too. I take a seat at my desk and gesture for her to sit in the chair next to it. I open a drawer and take out her file along with some other papers I need.

"So yesterday I mentioned group therapy as one of the terms of your parole," I say, reaching for a pen while Callie watches me carefully, "It will meet on either Sunday or Saturday mornings every week, it depends. There will be other foster kids that are around your age. The therapist's name is Dr. Kodema―"

"Why do I have to go?" Callie cuts me off with her question.

I press my lips together, "Well its one of the terms of your probation―"

"That doesn't answer my question."

The attitude on this girl is almost too much to handle, "Well," I begin cautiously, "Clearly you have some things you need to work through and Dr. Kodema is going to help you do that."

Callie folds her arms across her chest, "I'm not crazy," she mumbles, "This is such bullshit."

"Watch the language," I reprimand her gently. When did I turn into Lena? "This isn't a punishment, Callie. This is to help you."

"I don't need help!" she snaps, brown eyes blazing, "And I don't need you!"

"Than what do you need, Callie?" I keep my eyes trained on her; give her my undivided attention. I'm not going to let her get off that easy, "Callie? What do you need?" Her eyes finally meet mine and I'm surprised to see tears in them. She's just about to open her mouth―

"Stef?"

I turn around to see Captain Roberts sticking out of the door of her office, waving me to come inside. I silently curse under my breath before answering her.

"I'll be right there Captain." She nods and disappears into her office. I turn back to Callie and just as I feared, the walls are back up and she is giving me her classic indifferent stare.

"Callie―"

"You should go," she says, turning her head to the side as she reaches up a hand to rub her nose before dropping it to her lap.

I let out a defeated breath, "I'll be right back, okay? And then we're going to talk." She dismisses me with an uninterested wave. I reluctantly get up and head to the Captain's office. I pull the door behind me and take a seat.

"I see you brought Callie with you," Captain Roberts begins, leaning back in her chair, "How is she doing?"

"She's okay," I say, for lack of a better answer, "Actually, we just came from getting her set up with school."

She nods and brings her hands together, "As you can imagine, there are definitely some concerns I have about Callie living with you."

"Concerns?" I repeat.

"There's a high probability that this arrangement you have will be detrimental to Callie's progress."

I shake my head, "How? We're providing Callie with a positive, stable environment with no men to worry about."

"I understand that," Captain Roberts says, "But you have to understand something about Callie: she doesn't let people in. I've read every report available to me on this girl. I have no doubt you can be this girl's parole officer, but her foster mom? Stef, I think you're in over your head."

"With all due respect," I say, sitting up a bit straighter, "I think you're wrong. Lena and I are exactly what Callie needs. She deserves a lot better than what she's been going though." Even as I say this, I am beginning to doubt myself. I want to provide this child with everything she needs and get her on track to the life she deserves, but what if I'm not enough? I desperately want to believe I have Callie's best interests in mind. I've never felt this away about someone I've just met. Not since…

Not since Mariana and Jesus.

Hm.

Callie

I glance at the door of the office Stef disappeared into. Less than five minutes have passed but I'm beginning to feel anxious. They're talking about me, no doubt. I wonder what they're saying. Probably discussing everything wrong with me. Bored, I allow my eyes to drift over Stef's desk. There are picture frames of the kids and Lena from various years. There's one picture of the family when the kids are a lot younger. They're standing with a judge so I presume this is from the day Stef and Lena adopted the twins.

My eyes continue searching and I spot a file. My file. I quickly look at the office door. Sensing Stef won't be coming out any time soon, I carefully slide it towards me and flip it open.

There's a lot in here.

Numerous reports filled out by Bill and others are crammed into the single folder. I flip through each foster home carefully, scanning the complaints each foster parent had for me.

Disruptive.

Violent.

Thief.

Liar.

Sexually inappropriate.

A flare of anger runs through me at that last one. That's from the Olmsteads. I glance at the clock and notice that it's getting later and school will be letting out soon. The kids would be going home soon. Kids.

Jude.

I need to go get him. I look at the office door once again as well as quickly scan the area around me. No one seems to be paying me much attention, but that isn't anything new. Stef left her purse on her desk chair. Rookie mistake. I pull it towards me and dig out her wallet. I'm not sure how much it will cost for a bus to San Ysidro. I grab two, twenty-dollar bills and a ten. I stuff them in my back pocket and stand up.

Stef won't care that I'm gone. No one ever does. All that matters right now is that I get Jude. I'll figure it out from there.

Stef

I finally finish my conversation with Captain Roberts and head back to my desk. I'm hoping we can pick up where we left off but I know that's highly unlikely. I reach my desk to find Callie is nowhere to be seen.

Weird.

I look around a bit and spot a fellow officer leaning against a wall, reading some report, "Hey, have you seen a teenage girl? Brown hair, sixteen years old?" He shakes his head 'no' and my heart begins to race because nothing about this situation is good. I speed walk to the women's bathroom and check each stall, but Callie is nowhere to be seen.

Shit.

I go back out to the bullpen and I run my hands through my hair. This isn't good at all. I notice for the first time since I've come out of the office that my purse has been moved from my chair to my desk. My cop instincts tell me to check my wallet and lo and behold, I'm short fifty dollars.

How do I tell my boss I just lost my parolee?

Happy Father's Day to those dads who are:

Living and in heaven,

Taking care of other men's children,

Doing it alone,

And women being both mom and dad :)

I went to a party yesterday from 7PM-11PM. I woke up at 5:15 AM to babysit from 6AM until 12PM. I shouldn't be alive. On the bright side, tomorrow is my last day of school and…THE FOSTERS SUMMER PREMIERE! This is what we've been waiting for, guys! Oh happy days!

I'll be sure to update within a decent time of the premiere (probably Wednesday) so I can share my thoughts with ya'll.

Please leave a review!

-Liv