A/N: Like I babbled about in my other story... Reviews would be really nice at this point in the game. It doesn't truthfully apply to this one because I knew from the beginning how this story would go, but it'd be nice to hear from you guys :).
I appreciate every one of you and hope you enjoy the chapter :).
"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." ~Oscar Wilde
"Florence," Juliet ducked her head to greet me. I was ecstatic that she was embarrassed by her perfect little life. In tow was a girl in a pair of spandex shorts and a tight, low cut, crop top. Her face was plastered with every makeup under the sun. This mess had visible roots sprouting from her scalp and constricted pupils.
I reached to the couch and unfolded a pair of sweats and a t-shirt of mine, handing it to Holly. "I'm alright," Holly pushed the clothes back, blowing a voluptuous pink bubble.
"I didn't ask you if you were fine, there's a bathroom to the right," I passed the clothing to her again.
"No," the defiant teen said as she walked into the room.
Crossing my arms, I plopped the clothes back into her hands, "There's goose bumps on your asscheeks, sweetheart, go change while Juliet and I talk."Surprisingly, she gave me an eye roll and retreated to the bathroom. "So, what are the details on this Juliet?" I queried, waiting until Holly was out of earshot. It was bad enough that her mother was shipping her around to relatives; she didn't need me to drag her down even further. From the way she dressed I could tell her self esteem was equivalent to that of a walnut.
"Well… It's hard to tell," Juliet yawned, "It was a long car ride, I'm…"
"No you're not," I interrupted her well thought out speech that she'd slander me in. Juliet always thought of herself as a step above me, always better than me, and I don't think I can handle the situation cordially if she put me down in any way. My sister is the poster child for a sociopathic personality. "Just hand me the papers, send me a check for rent each month, and I can handle the rest," I held my hand out.
"I am, don't be so rude, you know what Mom would say. Anyways, I'm going to say goodbye to my daughter," Juliet dramatically declared. "The papers are in this folder, and I've taken the time to enroll her in school," she added, flipping the blue folder over to me.
Crossing my arms, I heard the door shut, "Thank you," I proclaimed through clenched teeth. Taking the folder, I flipped through the packet full of personal information regarding Holly.
Mother and daughter exchanged impersonal goodbyes, not that I didn't expect it. Holly didn't even respond to her mother until Juliet was forcing a hug onto her. The sheer misery in the girl's face was evident.
Juliet came to embrace me; I had to push her away. Not only did I hate that woman more than hate itself, the scars littering my skin would raise questions, suspicions, and everything I didn't want to deal with. Somehow, Juliet found the emotion to cry, something I thought statutes weren't capable of. Holly rolled her eyes as she hugged her mom like she was obligated to. Finally, after thirty grueling minutes, Juliet left. The anvil lying on my throat was lifted off and air stung my lungs so sweetly.
"Holly," I sat next to her on the couch when I locked the door behind me. Holly glanced nervously at my gun and badge.
She was afraid of the law, as any teen was, "Yeah?"
Coughing lightly, she did not take the hint, "Holly, do you even know what relation you have to me?" Holly shook her head. Her eyes traveled over to her bags, anxiously, as if something was there she needed. With an inconspicuous scratch of the neck, she gave away everything I needed to know. "I'm your aunt," I trailed off, trying to let silence get to her.
"Uh, yeah," she replied, her eyes once again trained on the pink duffel bag. "Can I like, go unpack, err, bitch," she stammered, trying to attain edge that would send some adults to a breaking point.
"No, bitch," I retorted, trying to get her attention. "Listen here, I was just like you and my whole life crumbled, and it's hell building it back up from scratch," I blushed red at the thought of her knowing all of my secrets.
Holly sniggered, "I doubt it, you're just a…" Holly let out a round of laughter once more. My teeth grinded against each other in an attempt to keep myself in check.
Shaking my head after Holly refused to finish what she said; I began to get my proposals straight. "In the dining room," I demanded, pointing there. Holly folded her arms across her chest, shaking her head and giving me a look I had received and given on copious occasions. "Holly, dining room," I reiterated.
With no success, Holly whined, "I just want to go unpack…"
"No, I'm going to tell you the rules before we unpack," I pursed my lips in dominance. Holly had to know what was going to happen to her if she continued this lifestyle. I wanted to tell her all about the hell I had to endure, those countless days in the white rooms, the numerous people that had turned against me, anything that had been permanently screwed up because of my self-destructive masked behind the face of fun. "First off, there are absolutely no drugs in this household, none."
Holly's eye twitched at that and the corner of her lip made a devious trip upwards. "I will administer a drug test every week, even though I know the first four you're going to fail, I'll be able to see what else comes into this household."
"I don't do drugs," Holly rebutted, her face flashing red.
Shaking my head, I pulled my badge out. Flashing it to her, I stated, "I'm a drug specialist, not to mention a former drug abuser, and I'm going to compromise with you." Placing the badge on the coffee table, I reeled in my thoughts to the best of my ability.
"Sure you are," Holly scoffed, refusing to make any sort of eye contact with anything, including me, in the room. It wasn't an issue; I could see how much she truthfully hated herself by her disposition. She even stared at the turned around mirrors lining some of the walls like it was a relief.
Holly and I were so alike, it pained me. If it pained me, it must've nearly killed Juliet, and all of my estranged family. It probably killed Holly too, even though she didn't know it yet. "Look, if you come and tell me you're struggling coming off of the drug, and after this you relapse or something, then I can live with that. I cannot live with knowing that the person under my care is having an issue with something I can help them with," I turned my head to face her. For a moment she met me with glistening eyes. "Second, I cannot allow you to walk around this city exposed," I racked my brain for adjectives that would work in the place of 'whore' and 'slut.'
"My clothes, my body, my choice," Holly repeated like it was her mantra. Her dyed black hair shook along with her head to signify she wasn't okay with it.
"When we get to unpacking, we can discuss it further…"
"There's no discussion," Holly spoke between her teeth.
Dismissing it, I knew I had to keep my ground when the time came, "Third, curfew is one on the weekends, and twelve on school nights and Sundays. If you prove you're trustworthy, I can be flexible."
Holly shrugged her shoulders, smiling at that news. I actually smirked a little bit too; Bertha, my mother and the person Holly lived with last, had ridiculous curfews of nine thirty. It was a rule I always broke and Bertha had no control over. "Fourth, school is not a place to fight, have sex, deal drugs, do drugs, or start rumors. I'm not requiring you to be an all A student, but I am asking you to turn in all of your work, and actually go to school," I recited.
With a blank stare, I knew that Holly wanted to appear she wasn't listening to throw me off, but I knew she was. Spencer would have a conniption about all of the micro-expressions Holly had that showed interest. "From what I was able to read, you can miss ten days a semester or something… So if you don't want to go to school, tell me. You can't go out and party and stuff while you're home on school hours, but you can stay out until ten thirty that evening. Since it's summer, curfew begins at one o'clock, with Wednesday being the only exception."
She gave herself away, beaming for a nanosecond before she noticed I noticed. "Fifth, your mom, no offense, is a dimwit thinking you don't have sex," I slandered. Holly burst out into laughter, trying not to blush; it was hard for me too. "But…" I giggled along with her until we both were red faced. Getting my composure back, I finished my thought, "If you want birth control, I will buy it for you."
"Can I go up to my room now?" Holly asked, staring at the pink duffel. She was beginning to show the glossy sheen of sweat. Now would be the time she'd probably go to snort, inject, or smoke to relieve the symptoms. It's what I would've done.
"You probably won't get any sleep tonight, so I'm willing to stay up with you to unpack," I sighed. There was no way in hell I'd be able to get to work tomorrow. Holly was about to protest, but I kept her at bay, "Look, I know you have heroin in the front pocket of that pink Nike duffel bag. Holly, I know withdrawal sucks major ass, especially when it's forced on you, but I have no room to judge you for the matter."
"Really now?! How the hell do you know, Florence!" she exclaimed.
Pulling up my sleeve, I pointed out the track marks littering the once pure porcelain skin. They signified a small part of a whole phase of my life wasted on destroying myself and everyone else. "The government forced me into inpatient when I was nearly eighteen for a number of reasons, I had to kick the habit I had maintained for a year," I admitted. There was no sense in it, she'd simply reject it. I'd become hurt again because I put myself out there.
Holly shook her head, "You're not me!"
"I agree," I gave in, "I'll show you to your room and I'll sleep on the couch so I know if you come up."
