Tris POV
Living life moving from one place to the next isn't so bad. Of course there are some draw-backs, like the pervy foster dads and their even pervier sons, and no roots mean no friends, but I have managed this long. The house that I live in now isn't so bad, with a loving All-American family. The house holds a husband and wife, their sweet baby girl, dashing 10 year old boy and a lonely girl trying to find where she fits. Of course the girl knows she doesn't fit here, but its nice to pretend.
Pretend she has a home to go to after school.
Pretend she even believes in home anymore.
When her case worker comes to tell her the family wants her gone, she sees it coming. She has already overstayed her welcome and could sense it was about time to move on. Her novelty has worn off and its time to the family to foster another broken child from a broken home and fail to fix them too.
"Beatrice this is just a minor set back. I have a new house lined up for you in Chicago. This will be the one," Mercy says while driving toward 'the one'. I don't know when she will realize there is no 'the one', just one of the many until I turn 18 and stop being the states problem.
"This family is very nice. They don't have any children of their own so it will just be you and the couple. Though I hear the wife runs a hangout for the local teenagers, so maybe it will be easier for you to make friends."
What she really wants to say is that it would look better to the family and her boss if it looked like I was adjusting well. Not acting out like usual, being polite, making friends, joining clubs and what-not. But this new house will be the same as all the other houses and I will leave within a month, so making friends and joining clubs is something only a masochist would wish for.
"Of course, Mercy." I say. I know better than to argue with her about this. Know it wont do anything but upset her, cause she's one of the good ones. She really acts like she cares, shes always been in my corner against her bosses and the foster families. She really believes this is "the one" because, even after all these houses, she still believes in home.
I don't think I can believe in home anymore. Thinking starts to hurt my head, so I turn over to face the window and close my eyes. Maybe when I wake up, I'll be a different person. A person they want to keep.
I wake to a gentle nudge and a soft voice. If I concentrate hard enough, I can feel my mothers hands and hear her voice quietly waking me for school. But I can also remember that everything was quiet in that house. I cant just take the good. I cant just remember her.
"Beatrice, you have to wake up. We made it and Im sure the new family is dying to meet you."
I slowly roll over and look at her. I hold my tongue which really wants to tell her that they're dying for the check that comes with me, not me. Even though its really not that much.
I walk up to the house and look around. the neighborhood looks normal enough but this house is different. Its painted dark green and orange on the outside which sounds bad, but actually looks kinda cool. Black artwork looks to be saudered into the wood of the house. Waves and mountains and fire and pheonixes.
As I climb out of the car, a young woman and man exit the house and stand on the front porch. The woman's hair is short and black and the man's hair is longer and maybe brown. I steele myself for what im sure comes next. Every time I meet a new family they mention my tattoos and peircings and fashion sense. But every All American family needs a problem child, right?
"Hi, I'm Tori. This is my husband Bud."
"This is Beatrice. Thank you for taking her in with such short notice. If you need anything just call me and I will help in any way I can." Mercy replies before turning to smile at me.
"Dont take this personal, but i hope this is the last time i see you."
I smile. I know exactly what she means. If this is my final home until I turn 18, she wont be my case worker anymore. Ill be in some nice home and she will have succeeded in finding me a forever home.
Yeah right.
"Thanks, Mercy." I nod good bye to her and walk with Tori and Bud to the house.
"So," Tori starts off, "this is our home. We decorated the outside ourselves. You probably don't care, but I'm a little nervous and talking about the house is easy." She gives a little awkward laugh and leans into her husband.
"Your room is upstairs. Our is in the other end of the hallway if you ever need us. The kitchen is down here. Help yourself to anything there and if we run out of something or you'd like us to buy you something just put it on the list hanging on the refrigerator. As for rules, we aren't too strict. We are gonna get you enrolled in school tomorrow, but from then on you will have a curfew of 11 on school nights and 1 am on weekends. Tori runs a tattoo parlor that doubles as a youth hangout type place, so feel free to hang out there. I think that's pretty much it. Any questions?"
I stay silent for a while. They are definitely being too nice. No one is this nice, especially not to me.
"What's the catch?" I say.
They both look confused.
"Catch?" Tori asks.
"You know, like doors get locked after curfew so if you're not in you sleep outside. Or you can put stuff on the list but only if you can pay for it. Or we like to lock the fridge so no eating after 8. The Catch."
Tori and Bud look at eachother or a second before smiling and shaking their heads..
"Yeah, none of those things are us. We don't lock our fridge or expect you to pay for your own groceries. And you'll have a key to the house soon so if they door is locked, open it." Tori replies.
I stare at them a little longer. Every house has a Catch.
"We're serious. We want you to be happy here. You can settle in tonight and then tomorrow, you can go to the parlor with Tori and meet some of the kids. On Monday. we'll take you to get registered at the scool." Bud says with a smile.
"Thanks." I respond hesitantly. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, I nod but am careful not to smile. In my experience, kind foster fathers turn into real monsters when riled.
He nods and together they lead me to my room. It's decent sized with a twin bed against a wall with plain white bedding and plain white walls. The room definitely doesn't match the vibrancy the rest of the house gives off.
"We wanted you to be able to decorate however you wanted. We repainted white and maybe tomorrow, we can go look at paints? Or whenever you feel more comfortable here. Its up to you how you want to you." Tori says as I set my stuff down and look around the room. I don't think I've ever really had a room all to myself before.
"You're gonna let me paint the walls? And decorate this whole room however I want?"
I ask.
When they nod, I try to silence my inner voice. The voice telling me this is all too good to be true.
Don't they know I'm temporary? Why would perfectly functional, seemingly decent people want someone broken like me?