Chapter 20
Devon tucked her legs underneath her as she readjusted herself on the living room couch. She put down her bowl of cereal and picked up the remote control. "Hmmm…let's see what other talk shows are on…" she muttered to herself. She has quickly turned into a "talk show junkie" the past two days since her argument with Sean. For some reason, watching shows that poked fun at dysfunctional families and relationships made her life feel…not as bad as it really was.
"Mrs. Hoffman let me in," a voice said behind her.
She turned around and saw her social worker, Jacob, standing in the doorway. She raised an eyebrow. "So…you making house calls now?" she asked sarcastically.
Jacob walked around the couch and took a seat across from Devon. "I hear that you haven't been going to school the past two days. Are you sick? Do you need me to make an appointment to the doctor's for you?"
Devon rolled her eyes. She hated it when Jacob asked her questions he already knew the answers to.
Jacob cleared his throat. "Speaking of doctors, Dr. Weinstein told me that you've missed this week's session with him."
Devon sighed, turned off the television, and tossed the remote on the coffee table. "Well, it's kinda hard to make it to a session without transportation," she remarked rudely. Yesterday, she had to call her friend in Wasaga Beach and tell him that she would not have the money to pay for her motorcycle payment this month. She was already a payment behind. This morning, someone was sent to the house to pick up her motorcycle. "I'm pretty sure you know WHY I don't have transportation, right?" She rolled her eyes again. "It's a little hard to get extra money from tips when you're washing dishes in the kitchen of The Dot."
Jacob sighed. He had just spoken with Devon's manager at The Dot and found out about what had happened two nights before. He took off his glasses to rub his eyes. "You know, your explosive temper isn't going to help you with your situation." He slid his glasses back on his face. "You ARE aware that all of this has to be documented in your record, right? The incident at work. You missing a counseling session. And now you skipping two days of school."
Devon leaned her head back against the sofa cushion. "Tell me something I DON'T know," she muttered in a dull tone.
Jacob sat up straighter and tried to sound more stern. "Devon, you need to understand that more incidents like these are going to keep you from being accepted to that shelter in British Columbia." He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "They require you to have an acceptable record before being transferred there. Their facility is to help people in your situation make the transition to independent living. It's a facility that will not tolerate defiant behavior."
Devon smirked. "Come on, Jacob. 'Acceptable record'? They're not a prestigious private school. They're a shelter for bad kids."
"Troubled teens," Jacob corrected.
Devon laughed haughtily. "Whatever. They might as well call it a 'holding cell' for teenagers until they are of legal age, when they can finally be released into the real world and out of DSS custody."
Jacob shook his head, then looked up at Devon. "It's a wonderful facility for you."
Devon disagreed. "No, it's the LAST RESORT because you can't stick me anywhere else."
Jacob shrugged his shoulders. "I've tried my best, Devon," he answered back honestly. "Foster homes are rejecting you. Mrs. Hoffman can't keep you here permanently. Unless you can find a living relative in Canada that can take you…you're going to that shelter." He stood up. "I expect you to go back to school on Monday. I also expect your manager to tell me that you worked with no problems next week," He made his way towards the living room doorway. "As for your session with Dr. Weinstein…I will take you there myself." He stopped at the doorway and turned around. "You're a good kid, Devon." He gave a reassuring smile. "I know that you're not happy with everything that is going on, but please understand that I am only arranging things in your best interest." He turned around again to walk out. "Call me if you need anything," he replied as he walked. "In the meantime, have a good weekend."
Devon sat on the couch quietly after Jacob left. She knew that Jacob was doing all he could to help her. To be quite honest, she was surprised that he has been so patient with her no matter how hard she has tried to irritate him. She didn't want to aggravate him because she hated him…she was just aggravated that she had to be sent to a place she felt she didn't belong. She didn't want to go to that shelter, and she was determined to find any way to prevent her from going there. She sighed as she dug in her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. She unfolded it and saw her father's address staring back at her. She recalled what Jacob just told her: "Unless you can find a living relative in Canada that will take you…you're going to that shelter."
Devon read her father's address again, then folded it up and stuffed it back in her pocket. She got off the couch and walked over to Mrs. Hoffman's desk to find a road map. She wasn't sure what will happen when she shows up on her father's doorstep tomorrow. All she knew was that it was worth the risk if it will keep her from going to that shelter.
Devon tucked her legs underneath her as she readjusted herself on the living room couch. She put down her bowl of cereal and picked up the remote control. "Hmmm…let's see what other talk shows are on…" she muttered to herself. She has quickly turned into a "talk show junkie" the past two days since her argument with Sean. For some reason, watching shows that poked fun at dysfunctional families and relationships made her life feel…not as bad as it really was.
"Mrs. Hoffman let me in," a voice said behind her.
She turned around and saw her social worker, Jacob, standing in the doorway. She raised an eyebrow. "So…you making house calls now?" she asked sarcastically.
Jacob walked around the couch and took a seat across from Devon. "I hear that you haven't been going to school the past two days. Are you sick? Do you need me to make an appointment to the doctor's for you?"
Devon rolled her eyes. She hated it when Jacob asked her questions he already knew the answers to.
Jacob cleared his throat. "Speaking of doctors, Dr. Weinstein told me that you've missed this week's session with him."
Devon sighed, turned off the television, and tossed the remote on the coffee table. "Well, it's kinda hard to make it to a session without transportation," she remarked rudely. Yesterday, she had to call her friend in Wasaga Beach and tell him that she would not have the money to pay for her motorcycle payment this month. She was already a payment behind. This morning, someone was sent to the house to pick up her motorcycle. "I'm pretty sure you know WHY I don't have transportation, right?" She rolled her eyes again. "It's a little hard to get extra money from tips when you're washing dishes in the kitchen of The Dot."
Jacob sighed. He had just spoken with Devon's manager at The Dot and found out about what had happened two nights before. He took off his glasses to rub his eyes. "You know, your explosive temper isn't going to help you with your situation." He slid his glasses back on his face. "You ARE aware that all of this has to be documented in your record, right? The incident at work. You missing a counseling session. And now you skipping two days of school."
Devon leaned her head back against the sofa cushion. "Tell me something I DON'T know," she muttered in a dull tone.
Jacob sat up straighter and tried to sound more stern. "Devon, you need to understand that more incidents like these are going to keep you from being accepted to that shelter in British Columbia." He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "They require you to have an acceptable record before being transferred there. Their facility is to help people in your situation make the transition to independent living. It's a facility that will not tolerate defiant behavior."
Devon smirked. "Come on, Jacob. 'Acceptable record'? They're not a prestigious private school. They're a shelter for bad kids."
"Troubled teens," Jacob corrected.
Devon laughed haughtily. "Whatever. They might as well call it a 'holding cell' for teenagers until they are of legal age, when they can finally be released into the real world and out of DSS custody."
Jacob shook his head, then looked up at Devon. "It's a wonderful facility for you."
Devon disagreed. "No, it's the LAST RESORT because you can't stick me anywhere else."
Jacob shrugged his shoulders. "I've tried my best, Devon," he answered back honestly. "Foster homes are rejecting you. Mrs. Hoffman can't keep you here permanently. Unless you can find a living relative in Canada that can take you…you're going to that shelter." He stood up. "I expect you to go back to school on Monday. I also expect your manager to tell me that you worked with no problems next week," He made his way towards the living room doorway. "As for your session with Dr. Weinstein…I will take you there myself." He stopped at the doorway and turned around. "You're a good kid, Devon." He gave a reassuring smile. "I know that you're not happy with everything that is going on, but please understand that I am only arranging things in your best interest." He turned around again to walk out. "Call me if you need anything," he replied as he walked. "In the meantime, have a good weekend."
Devon sat on the couch quietly after Jacob left. She knew that Jacob was doing all he could to help her. To be quite honest, she was surprised that he has been so patient with her no matter how hard she has tried to irritate him. She didn't want to aggravate him because she hated him…she was just aggravated that she had to be sent to a place she felt she didn't belong. She didn't want to go to that shelter, and she was determined to find any way to prevent her from going there. She sighed as she dug in her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. She unfolded it and saw her father's address staring back at her. She recalled what Jacob just told her: "Unless you can find a living relative in Canada that will take you…you're going to that shelter."
Devon read her father's address again, then folded it up and stuffed it back in her pocket. She got off the couch and walked over to Mrs. Hoffman's desk to find a road map. She wasn't sure what will happen when she shows up on her father's doorstep tomorrow. All she knew was that it was worth the risk if it will keep her from going to that shelter.