A brisk wind was picking up as James turned the corner. The air smelled like rain.
His new foster home wasn't so bad. His foster mother, Debra, was a decent cook. His foster father, Ian, was hardly at home but generally polite. For the first time in three homes, he got his own bedroom. They had two kids of their own, a nine year old girl Samantha, who was pretty cool, and Bryce. Bryce was basically a jerk. His first night there, James had trouble sleeping so he went downstairs to watch some tv. He stumbled onto some old and kind of lame movie about two geeks that managed to create a hot, super babe with a Barbie doll and their computer. The next morning, Bryce ratted him out at breakfast. James got a half hour lecture about the house rules. Things between them hadn't gotten much better.
School started back up and Bryce disappeared to hang out with his friends, ignoring James. When they crossed paths at school, Bryce called him 'charity boy' which his friends thought was hilarious. They also thought it was hilarious to 'forget' that Bryce was supposed to give James a ride home, leaving him to walk the almost two miles to the house.
James bounded up the stairs just as the rain started to fall. At least Bryce had left the door unlocked since James didn't have his own key. Debra didn't think it was necessary since James would be with Bryce who did have a key. Not so subtle way of saying it wasn't really his home but she wasn't the first. With his track record, she might not be the last. No one really wanted to hang onto a teenager with a smart mouth, a bad habit of getting into fights even if he never started them and a standing monthly therapy appointment because he refused to talk about his father's death. Everyone kept saying that he needed to try harder but people didn't make as much sense as computers. And until the past summer he was too short and scrawny for sports even if he had any desire to play. His only desire was getting out of the system. But he still had a long way to go on that one.
There was no sound downstairs. James wandered into the kitchen and was surprised to find Debra wasn't there cooking dinner. Then he noticed her family calendar with a bright pink note about Samantha's dance photos. That, James was quick to learn was Debra. Everyone had their color. Debra was red, Samantha pink. Ian was blue and Bryce was green. A bright happy rainbow of family. James was a post it note. One on the day his social worker, Mrs Caldwell, would be stopping by to chat and the other on the day of his therapy session. Easy to move if he was still there at the end of the month, easy to trash if he wasn't. And he would be just as easily forgotten. Story of his life. The invisible boy.
James heard a thud as he climbed the stairs. He reached the top and saw Bryce in his room pawing through a pile of stuff from a box James had put on the closet shelf.
"Hey, what are you doing?" James half leapt into the room, grabbing at Bryce's arm. "Get out of my room."
Bryce shoved him away. "It's not YOUR room, charity boy."
"But it is MY stuff. So get out of it." James grabbed at Bryce again.
"Not until you tell me where it is."
"Where what is?"
"The money."
"The money you've been making selling fake IDs."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Liar. You sold one to Donovan's cousin at your old school." Bryce smirked. "If you don't tell me where you hid the money and how you make them, I'll tell my parents and your social worker will come get you. My dad will never allow a criminal to stay."
"Tell them, you don't have any proof. You really think Donovan or his cousin is going to say anything. They'll get themselves in trouble. It'll be your word against mine."
"But you're the one thats the troublemaker."
"So tell them and lets see what happens." James glared at the other boy. Bryce glared back for a moment before backing away. James picked up the over turned box and startsd putting his things back inside.
"What's this?" Bryce picked up a disc that had fallen under the desk. "Mission Impossible. This thing is an antique."
James felt a lump in his throat. "Give it back."
Bryce popped the disc out of the case and started twirling it on his finger. "Why do you even have it? You can't play it."
"It's none of your business. Just give it back."
Bryce looked at him for a moment. James could see a smirk forming on his lips. Then before he could stop it he saw Bryce snap the disk in half.
He honestly didn't remember taking a swing. He didn't remember anything really. One minute he was standing there and the next he saw Bryce stumble into the desk. He felt the sting of Bryce hitting him back. He didn't remember anything about the next few minutes until he shoved Bryce hard and the bigger boy stumbled back and slammed into the door frame. James heard an odd cracking sound and a scream as Samantha came up the stairs and saw her brother fall. He felt his stomach churn as he noticed the smear of blood and realized he did that.