Alexander was relieved to see Martha, having taken the last few hours of her day off, waiting for him at home. He was welcomed with a warm smile and a plate of apple slices.

He sat down and started copying Laf's answers in between bites of apple as Martha chatted with him about his day.

"How was it?"

"It wasn't horrible, I guess. I met some friends!" He offered excitedly. "...Sorry. I've never had a group of friends before."

Martha only smiled, gently resting a hand on the younger boy's shoulder. "I'm glad. You're really coming out your shell, Alex."

Alex chuckled. "I guess I am, huh?"

"Really. Haven't even been here a week, and it's like you're a whole new person."

"No more street rat chic?"

"No more street rat chic." Her eyes drifted downward onto the table as she took in the packet her foster son was working on. "Homework on the first day?"

"Homework on my first day," He mumbled. "And I heard she probably won't even grade it."

"Well, I suppose I shouldn't distract you. Holler if you need anything, honey."

"Thanks, Mrs. Washington," Alex replied, scribbling down answers.

"Martha, Alex." With that, she disappeared into the living room.

Alex copied those answers until his hand cramped, then he switched to his other hand and worked until that one was sore too.

"Why does this stupid packet have to be so long...?" He mumbled before he heard a car door close outside. He pulled down two of the blinds and saw George making his way to the front door.

"Mrs. Washington, your husband is home!" He called out, deciding to take a break and closing the packet in front of him.

"It is about time for that, honey," She re-appeared in the kitchen, peeking out the window. She huffed a little bit. "I thought I told him to bring dinner home."

George finally came inside and was greeted with a kiss on the cheek from Martha. "Dinner?" She asked. "Wasn't it your night to grab it?"

"I'll make us something, alright?" He offered sheepishly, having totally forgotten his wife's request.

"You better," She smiled, wrapping her arms around her husband's neck. "And dessert?"

"Oh, I'll give you dessert, believe me."

Alex wanted to bleach his own ears. He sat, sort of mortified, at the table before his foster father noticed him.

"Sorry, Alex. How'd your first day go?"

"Fine," He mumbled back.

"He made some friends," Martha offered helpfully.

"Hey, that's great, kid. Do you want to tell us about them?"

The teen shook his head, suddenly going quiet and setting his pencil. "I'm going to go to my room," He said simply, dropping the packet into his backpack and heading out of the kitchen.

He left his foster parents rather surprised at the sudden shift. "...Did I say something wrong?" George asked.

"I don't know..." His wife answered. "He seemed fine earlier."

"Eh... I'm sure he'll get over it," The man suggested, turning his attention to an upper kitchen cabinet. "How does chicken and rice sound?"

Alexander honestly felt bad. He hadn't meant to snap at George; it just happened. He rapidly wrote in the last few answers of his packet and slid it back into his folder.

He lay in bed for a few minutes with only the sound of his own steady breathing to keep him company. He slipped out of his jeans from the school day in favor of a pair of navy sweatpants. He was thankful they had given him some more clothes; what he originally had was not much.

He made his way back into the kitchen and saw his foster father stirring some batter in a bowl. The man didn't seem to notice Alex as he poured it into a lined brownie tray.

"Um... George?" Alex said awkwardly.

"Hm?"

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry... for earlier." The younger of the two fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.

George looked up at Alex at he smoothed out the brownie batter. "Don't worry about it."

"A-Are you sure?"

George shrugged. "It happens sometimes. I'm sure my old man talk was irritating."

"No, it's not that..." He stuttered to explain. As awkward as he was feeling, he had grown fairly comfortable in this foster home in the short time he had been there.

"Alex, I'm serious. Don't worry about it." George was trying to be sympathetic. This was all new to the boy, and he deserved some leeway while adjusting. "I know right now may not be the easiest time in the world for you. Heck, I can't tell you how many times I lashed out at my parents."

"I know, I just... I'm sorry." Alexander sighed, feeling somehow even more like a prick.

"Apology accepted. You're allowed to have feelings, kid. Even the unpleasant ones." George pulled the chicken breasts out of the oven, setting them on the stovetop to cool. "Dinner will be ready soon."

Regardless of what some believed, George could be a mean cook when he felt like it. The family enjoyed their meal and the brownies that had been made for dessert.

George even treated Martha to a silly dance in the living room while Alex sat on the couch, his nose in a book. He occasionally glanced up at the couple when he heard them giggle or fumble over their own feet. They weren't the smoothest dancers, but they had fun.

Alex felt content as he brushed his teeth before pulling his hair into a low ponytail for the night. He had to chuckle at his reflection in the mirror; he looked like a founding father.

Martha knocked softly on the slightly ajar door before pushing it open. "Hey," She greeted pleasantly, a small smile on her face. "Have a minute?"

Alex nodded, prompting his foster mother to sit on his bed.

"I just wanted to let you know that George and I really enjoy having you here."

"Um, thanks..." He replied stiffly.

"And... you're a good kid, so we only want... I guess..." Martha stammered for a moment before quieting down and meeting the young teen's eyes. "I'm just trying to say that we're for you, ya know?"

A small smile spread on the boy's face. "Thank you."

"Of course, honey." She stood up, affectionately squeezing his shoulder. "Have a good night."

"Good night."