I walk down the deserted streets of Eden, really not wanting to go back to the orphanage, but knowing that I have to check up on anyone. I take the short route, which means that not only do I have to trample through the woods filled with burdocks, I have to sneak through yards of VERY ornary old people. And why are old people so angry, anyways? I mean, sure, you're old, and wrinkly, and smell funny, and...I'm not really helping my point much, am I?
You know, it is so contradictory to say that I live in Eden. Sure, I have my sibs, but that doesn't make everything easier. I have to keep them away from the wrath of Mrs. Holmes, help them with homework (if I can convince them to go to school), and keep them from getting totally corrupted. Not an easy thing to do considering that we live in the bad part of an already shady town. Then there's school- ah, my own personal Anti-Christ. It's so funny how people in high school are oblivious to anything but the title of Homecoming Queen or who's going out with who. Come on, people, it's a paper crown, and who cares who's dating who? Not I, for one. God, it's like they don't even realize that there's a whole big world out there, beyond this Godforsaken 1,219-person dump.
I make my way through the uncut lawns and stare at the orphanage. Actually, I'm surprised it's lasted this long. The whole home has bets on when it's going to collapse onto itself (hopefully with Mrs. H. inside). I'm guessing on March 6, at 2:36 p.m. The shutters are hanging off the sides, and paint peels off the house in sheets. Home sweet hell.
I walk in the back door, welcomed by screaming cihldren running through the house. Jill chases Becca by, waving a cardboard sword at her. She screams in terror. I head to Mrs. Holmes's office, praying that I don't have kitchen duty. Her door's open, and a young man and woman are sitting down. Mrs. Holmes it trying to look professional. Fighting the urge to roll my eyes as she rattles on about 'what a joy it is to work with the children,' and 'they're all such dears,' I walk in, not really caring how much te 20-something couple wants to adopt-I want to find out if dinner will be edible.
"Well, hello, Sara, dear. How was your afternoon, sweetie?" God, spare me the sugaryness of it all.
"Sucky beyond belief, and the name is Lana." I tell her, super-pronunciating the last part. Honestly, you'd think that after 12 years, she'd get the fact that I've hated my last name for that long.
"Max, Alec, this is Sara, our oldest resident." she says, turning to the couple in front of her.
"Lana, not Sara. My name is Sara Lane Martin. How can you possibly not know that after 12 years of me living here, I hate my name? It's Lana!" I tell her, hoping that she'll finally get it right. "And I was just wondering if I had dinner duty tonight. Because if that's the case, we'll all either go hungry or die of food poisoning. So pick your kid soon, folks, or it'll be too late." I tell the couple, my voice dripping with sarcasm. To my surprise, instead of doing the whole 'let's gasp and be shocked' thing, they both smirk at me, but Mrs. H's voice tears me away from further inspection.
"Why, yes, Sara, you do get to make dinner tonight. And I'm sure it'll be wonderful." Mrs. Holmes bites out through gritted teeth and a tight smile. Her face is blood red, and it sorta reminds me of a game we used to play as kids- Let's See Who Can Make Mrs. Holmes The Maddest? I always won.
"Are you kidding me? I don't want to make dinner. Remember last week's Taco Fiasco? Becca asked me to watch the taco meat for 2 minutes while she grated cheese, and I melted the spatula! Ooh, or how bout the time last month when I used sugar instead of salt in the soup? Oh, man, don't even get me started on the time I made cookies..." I spout off, and turn to the couple, both of whom are now trying their best not to laugh. At my outburst or the vein popping out of Mrs. H's neck, I really can't be sure. "Who knew that cream cheese frosting needs more ingredients than just cream cheese? It's the name that misleads you."
"Sara, if you really feel that strongly, dear, then have one of the other children make dinner." Mrs. Holmes tells me, not even bothering with the fake smile anymore. She's moved on to The Look- you know, the one that if looks could kill, you'd be six feet under faster than you can say "I Hate Cooking." Well, job done.
"Nice meeting you." I tell the couple, letting them get back to shopping for their child. I walk out the door, skipping slightly, and yelling, "Thanks Mrs. H. I love you!" in a singsong voice on the way to my room. I slam the door, smiling at the crash of a shutter falling off the building. Well, this day's a little better.
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Max and Alec stare at the fuming woman in front of them, both trying incredibly hard not to laugh. Mrs. Holmes stumbles to find an explanation why Lana was so mad. "I'm so sorry about her. She has temper problems, and doesn't like doing her chores." the 200-pound woman tells them as she sits back down, putting some files on the table. The chair creaks under her weight, and Alec almost laughs, but then regains composure as Max pokes him in the side. ~Ow...she didn't have to poke me. Ok, so it didn't actually hurt, but it's the thought that count, right? And that thought was just plain mean.~ "These are some of the most well-behaved children." she explains, holding out the files.
They page through them without much interest. After a few minutes, Alec looks up, giving his best All-American Cutie-Pie smile. "Well, the thing is, Mrs. Holmes, me and my baby here like a challenge." He tells her, lacing Max's fingers through his. "Isn't that right, baby girl?" His eyes glint in humor at Max's reaction, but she covers easily.
She looks up, definitely not one to back down from a challenge. Especially one as good-looking as Alec. She smiles sweetly, scooting her chair closer and wrapping her arms around Alec, snuggling her head into his chest quite comfortably. "That's right, snookums." she tells him, and grins as his eyes go wide for a second. ~Snookums? She couldn't come up with anything more manly than that? Hell, even honey-bear would be better than that!~ She grins at him, and then turns to Mrs. Holmes. "I think that what we're both trying to ask is, could we talk to Lana for a while?" she asks politely, and Mrs. Holmes nods, scoffing a bit.
"If you want, but I'm warning you two-she's a bad apple." she tells them, and stands up. Max and Alec do, too, and just as soon as they untangle themselves, Alec wraps his arm around Max. They follow Mrs. Holmes, both anxious to finally have an actual conversation with the girl.
~Maybe this isn't that bad of a mission.~
~We are getting along better now. A lot better.~
~Maybe something will bring us even closer than friends.~
~Meant for each other, huh?~
~Well, we are meant for each other.~
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A/N: hey guys! Sorry if you've been anxious, but this is the first time I've had in a while to update anything, because I'm so busy with practice.
If you've been reading Lucy the Mutant or Naturally Dysfunctional, please review! They've been slowing down, and I want to know if you want me to continue to update them. Please read them if you haven't, even just to critique me, because I'd love to hear what you think.
Luv ya!!!!
Molly Jeane