Content warning for child neglect, abandonment, and emotional trauma. Trigger warning for themes of displacement.
"You're up late, sweetheart."
Jay nods, angling his head to view out of the bathroom door. He ran for the shared hallway bathroom, remembering to brush his teeth. Heading to bed early, Jay forgot the last step in his nightly routine. He hums along as the mechanical clock ticks down.
"I'm bringing in your brother. His guts are melting from the inside out," Vivian shuffles through, struggling to carry her son's weight. She grunts, planting Will on the toilet set. "I swear, you kids are massive. I can't carry you in my arms anymore."
Surprised to see his brother in such a state, Jay momentarily stops brushing to check on him, his toothbrush dangling in his hand. Will looks raged. Perspiring heavily, he appears to be near complete exhaustion, flushed and ghastly. His older brother slumps to the side, his head falling back as he groans in discomfort.
"What's wrong with him?" Jay glances between his mom and brother, casually returning to his task of brushing his bottom teeth.
"Uh," Vivian frantically yanks out a few towels from the corner cabinet. Placing the bundle in Will's lap, she moves in front of Jay for the sink, "Excuse me, sweetheart." Running cold water on the washrag, she places it on her eldest's forehead.
"Hold that steady. I'll run the bathwater," Vivian directs to Will, sitting on the edge of the tub and working the faucet knobs.
"Uhh, Will caught some bug. First, I thought it was that bacteria all these teens seem to get," Vivian enlightens, testing the water for an even temperature. "After talking to Dorothea down the street, we determined it's not mono. Her daughter has some other infection that she gave to Will."
"Probably the flu," Vivian tsks at Will, retrieving the wet rag to dap his face. "I'm taking him by the doctor tomorrow," she supplies, shaking her head. She instructs Will to prepare for the bath once the water is waist-high. Digging back in the cabinet, she pulls out the infamous Sudocrem. With a strict bite to her tone, she orders him to rub it all over.
She exhales, quickly chattering about returning with oils, salt, and buttermilk to prepare Will for his long night ahead. Including tea and garlic later. His mom is a tried-and-true stickler for the luck of the Irish at-home remedies.
"You haven't been kissing anyone, have you, Jay?" Vivian emphasizes more than stating it as a question.
His mom's pointed gaze gauges his truthfulness, steering towards hopefulness that her youngest son refrains from catching germs of any kind. Her exhausted gripe continues, imploring him for an answer as before, "Because Will may have lucked out, but he still caught something. A lot of germs get transmitted kissing and sharing cups and all that."
"Nope, not me," Jay garbles nervously, looking to the mirror and occupying himself with his front teeth.
Vivian smiles, giving his shoulder a loving squeeze, "I knew I had smart one in the bunch," and she heads out to the kitchen.
Jay darts his eyes to Will, who collapses against the toilet, covering the rag on his face. The sight alone rivaled death's door. It must feel worse than the crummy stomachaches they have had.
Panicked, Jay furiously brushes his teeth. He thoroughly cleans all the crevices, including his tongue and gums, long after the timer blares. He strings the floss between his teeth and gargles the mouthwash, striving to get his mouth sparkling.
"You're all done, dear?" Vivian pats Jay's shoulder, darting for Will. "Quite longer time you spent brushing your teeth," Vivian probes, folding her arms at an unconscious Will and the unattended tub.
"I forgot to brush, and if I leave it on, that means cavities. Night!" Jay gabbles, rushing out of the bathroom.
"Boys," Vivian huffs, setting her concoction on the floor.
An eventful week crashed and burned over the weekend. Erin was adjusting, claiming back her youthfulness. Only for it to be squandered by people who did not deem her fortunate of it. The friendships, the school bells, the after-school activities, she rejects of all it. The idea of them is no longer of importance to her.
Erin prefers to cast herself off as a loner. Ignoring her classmates proves no difficulty. Her short answers and evil scowls do the trick. The teachers only glance and motion in her direction, none of which causes alarm. Lunchtime is harder to elude because Ryan shares her homeroom and lunch period. He consistently tries to join her, under the idealistic notion she never heard what he said about her.
Today, she forgoes lunch and trickles in another class's recess period. The fresh air calms her nerves, centering her discontent. Erin seeks out a spot to settle, avoiding the kids running up to her. Reaching an empty playground farther away, she believes enough distance separates them. She barrels up the tire stairs to the chain bridge. The sounds of the creaking wood and clinking chains put a bounce in her steps across. The large playground provides multitudes of cover, and Erin hides between the rope wall and slide deck. Nigh on skipping school for the day, she devises her escape plan.
She breathes in the crisp air, fliting her gaze over the courtyard. Her living situation is plummeting beneath her. Barely braving face, she knows the generous offer to remain at the shelter is meeting its end. Bunny's absence fuels the dumpster fire, and without an update on her whereabouts, Erin cannot put out the inevitable. If Bunny fails to resurface, the consolation agreed upon will whittle away, leading the shelter to call DCFS. Erin's valuable time was spent attending functions and completing homework assignments. Two awful decisions to partake in, and she is paying the price.
Mapping out her plan, she narrows down the streets and buildings her mother is most likely to frequent, given the radius of her location, so Suzanne is none the wiser. With no classmates to bother her, many playing absentmindedly, she will sneak out undetected. As Erin peers around the playground for a possible exit, a kid peeks out, rounding the corner.
"Is this your recess time?" They sluggishly inch closer, sitting across from her on the slide deck.
Jay.
Sighing pleasantly, Erin concludes he will be an easy one to dodge. He is polite. He listens well.
"Are you going to play during recess?"
She engages initially but looks out to the courtyard. Her spot is not secluded enough, evidently. She believed she found the best place to be alone until the school bell rings awarding her the opportunity to sneak out through the crowd.
"Why are you sitting by yourself? Can I sit with you?"
"You gonna keep asking me questions?" Erin sasses.
"Um. Best friends talk to each other. We, uh, like to ask each other things," Jay mentions wishfully.
Erin folds her arms to her chest, frowning at his distinction of them forming a closer friendship. Best friends are dangerous. They learn about her circumstances and spread the news to other kids. Once they do that, teachers find out about her situation. Suzanne gossiped her shortcomings to the Ortega's already. Ryan offended her far worse. It is only a matter of time before the principal finds out. Soon the entire class would know her story.
As much as Erin wants to befriend Jay, it is not the safest option. She decides to set off early, scooting out to ditch the rest of the day.
"Don't leave. I'll sit with you," Jay pleads, "Like the first time, remember?" He balls his hands in a fist, placing them in his lap. "We can sit in the quiet."
Erin softens her expression and slouches back, her eyebrows furrowing instead. Jay stretches out his legs, mirroring her relaxed posture against the wall. The constant giddy smile he showcases each time he sees her emerges. Something oddly refreshing takes over Erin's senses, watching him sit in silence with her. No pressure and no ridicule, he willingly agrees to her unwritten rules.
At a snail's pace, Erin summons the courage to speak. "I'm tryna keep clean," she presses down her uniform, "I don't want to get my clothes dirty."
"Hmm, like all the other girls. They don't want to get filthy either."
"No. No, I play and get dirty sometimes. I just don't want to mess up my uniform," Erin chews her bottom lip, stopping her rambles from persisting.
"Okay," Jay grins, accepting her answer. "I made sure to bring it this time," digging in his pocket, he pulls out a small can of Play-Doh and places it between them.
Erin's face lights up slightly at the prospect of a toy at her disposal, one to possibly give Teddy.
"More stuff fits in my pockets too," he empties the pockets of his jacks set, koosh ball, and leftover candy.
Ever since the Welcome Back Bash and birthday party, especially the party, Jay was determined to seek her out. He scouted out the school hallways, took breaks in the sixth-grade lobby, and stayed behind for lunchtime. He brought along toys and snacks each day, hoping he would come across her. It seems recess turned out to be his lucky guess in areas of his search.
"You-you were really nice to me at the party, and, friends share," he pushes his hands out toward her to select from the options. "I packed all of these in case. I was looking for you at school all week. To see you again so I can talk to you. I, um. Take one, or you can choose the candy. If none of those, we could make up a game. Or I can tell you about all the cool shows I'm watching. I just want to… Mmm, you know. Be friends."
He sure does rattle off when he is nervous. Erin stops herself from interrupting him to sit in another overwhelming feeling she has quite yet to understand. To have someone out deliberately looking to find her is an unusual change. She is equally flustered by his kindness.
"You're weird," Erin eyes him closely, finding him intriguing.
Adversely, the word carries a weight of insecurity for Jay. He withdraws hearing it, tensing his shoulders. Erin treats him with such ease, without judgment. Still, it worries him a little bit of what she may think about him.
Erin straightens her posture, scooching over, "Weird kids are cool. I like weird," she pulls in her lips, masking her smile. Grabbing the Twizzlers, she points it in his direction, "Let's split one." She picks a piece and pulls the candy strings apart, handing Jay his.
She timidly chews on it, staring at him to figure out why he is insistent on sharing. Mainly due to this encounter serving as the second time he has made the gesture. Skepticism aside, Erin chooses to indulge him and leans back in her previous position. "I don't eat candy often, so, thanks," she simpers awkwardly, unsure if she should be smiling at him.
"I can bring you all the candy I got if you want. We can meet right here during our recess times and try all the different kinds. There's a gazillion."
Erin chuckles dryly, "Right. So many possibilities." She finishes her piece of the candy, shuffling out of her slouched position to leave.
"Wait, Erin," Jay calls hesitantly.
"Yea," she utters flatly, swiveling in his direction.
His blue-eyed gaze beams at her, communicating the words flooding his mind. Patiently waiting for him to speak, Erin assumes she will have to ask. He swiftly leans in, and Erin gasps sharply when her face tingles as his lips brush her skin. He places a soft peck on her cheek, heedfully pulling away due to his impulse.
"Wha-Why did you do that?" Erin tucks her chin, her hands gripping her backpack, woozy from her inability to react faster and conceal her blushing face.
"I-I want to… I wanted to give a better first kiss. Try again, I mean," Jay presses his lips together. "We aren't in the dark."
The quick kiss is unlike his typical behavior. It is a bold action. An even stranger move for a boy who bristles from the slightest remark. But perched on a courtyard playground, it happens to be the sweetest thing ever. It reassures Erin that he is an innocent kid trying for his first kiss, second kiss. A boy shielded from the realities she lives with is safe. He is harmless. Weird too. A cute sort of weird.
"Bye, Jay," Erin scurries out, climbing down the rope wall. "I'm taking the Play-Doh," she hollers offhandedly, bounding for the fence, her low ponytail falling undone.
Erin scrambles up the ramp, panting excessively. Running like a track star for the last mile, she heaves open the door and pushes through the lobby. She is late returning to the shelter. At an ungodly hour, it will beckon plenty of explanations from the workers.
Misreading the bus schedule, Erin got stranded at the station until the service change. She lost track of time being on the wrong side of town. She knows how to play the ingenious card but convincing the workers of her mistake could easily fail.
Her feet move on their own accord, absolute fatigue from the day on display. She allows her feet to venture off while she conjures up a narrative. In seconds, Erin rehearses how to fool the workers in commiserating with her. The tactic. The similarity is her cue mark. The unstoppable force is a glaring sign of her becoming her mother. Tragic indeed her life must be.
It is to her surprise when she feels a weight on the collar of her shirt. Observing her uniform, Erin notices the white shirt shading grey. New spots appear, and she sours immediately at condition. Her clothes are getting ruined.
Wiping her nose, she realizes her tears are the substance coating her attire. She tries her hardest to reel in her emotions. Cemented to the ground, she unleashes a sound that a mother tends to. Only to resign to the fact that her mother is incapable of doing anything such. Bunny is not coming for her. In place of her, Erin accepts the hand guiding her out of the broom closet.
"Erin, sweetie. Are you okay?"
The voice registers in her ears, but their indistinguishable features confuse her on who joins her on the floor. "You must have been in there for a while. Your school uniform is still on. Did you have a bad day, Erin?"
Suzanne? She caught her.
Erin blinks her eyes rid of her tears, rubbing them when her vision does not clear. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what? You are facing a lot," Suzanne consoles, "Strength only holds until you break. You need a break, sweetie. Receive the grace. It is okay to be sad."
"You're not mad. I missed curfew. I wasn't at school." Erin forfeits the fib she constructed.
"I heard you crying. From the sounds of it, you were for a while. Everyone needs time to themselves. Even the littlest ones." Suzanne presses, "When you do need time alone, let us know. We were all worried about you." She brushes Erin's shoulder, maneuvering up from her position on the floor.
Punishing her would do more harm than good. Suzanne knows full well Erin was missing today. She sums it up as an act of desperation, a little girl's last-ditch effort before DCFS removes them. The most likely scenario is both siblings would be. Who is she to judge a child striving to keep her family together?
"Here, let me walk you to your room. I know one little guy is very excited to see you," Suzanne outstretches her hand.
Disoriented, she takes hold of her hand. Erin angled for her room when she raced back to the shelter, under the pretenses of executing her cover. How she ended up in the closet or how long she was hiding in it is a mystery. Somehow, she is glad she did.
After Erin puts Teddy to sleep, she digs out an item from her vest pocket. On her search, she found a lead on her mother. She unravels the crumpled paper, the scribble hardly legible of one of her mother's known dealers, deciding whether Bunny deserves any grace.
"Erin!" The two boys shout in unison, waving at her in greeting. They share an odd look of surprise that both were vying for her attention, eyes competing at who will speak to her first.
Keen on calling the day an end, Erin strolls merrily along the hallway. Hearing her name, she searches for the area it was called. Walking to the open classroom, she peers inside and notices Jay and Ryan, both seemingly delighted to see her. Narrowing her eyes, Erin scoffs their way and proceeds in her amble. She did not necessarily carry deep-seated grudges, but Erin could not bypass Ryan hurting her feelings.
He was her first acquaintance in a long time, and he fooled her into believing she had a friend. The tables turn, and even the most endearing people could initiate petty squabbles. Whether or not they were doing it to endure the animal kingdom of middle school popularity. She misplaced her judgment in kids her age. She could not trust anyone. Jay unknowingly associating with Ryan means he is going along with it.
Those boys have real lives to live, affording them a lifetime of experiences she would only be lucky to gain. Erin is in a chess match of survival of the fittest, and she is easy prey. She ignores them as if she never heard them call her name. Open period implied club activities or study hall; conversely, the rulebreaker in her presses on to the better alternatives.
"Where is she going? She didn't say hi to me," Ryan sulks. His friend was avoiding him the last couple of weeks, and he could not piece together why. All his attempts failed, met with the silent treatment. Maybe she was going through a phase or was in trouble at home? She had stopped visiting his house on weekends and walking home with him. He missed her.
"I think she's mad at me," Ryan surmises, lazily spinning on his stage chair. He starves for friendship every school year. Erin was the first person to accept his quirkiness. Erin tends to come across as aloof, disengaged even. Beneath the exterior, she is understanding and sweet - a quick hitter and heroine of the underdogs. He truly admires her poise, a trait he has yet to learn.
"Why would she be mad at you?" Jay needles, no bounds on his sheer interest in Erin.
Ryan whirls faster, trying to recover any instances that would evoke the memory. Looking back in the hallway, he watches Maisie pass through with a group of girls. Then it clicks. "I don't know," he nags, speeding up. The timing makes sense. The party upset her, and the host was cruel. He should have known better than to invite her.
"Mmm, my brother says that you just tell them sorry. It doesn't matter for what the reason is. Girls like to hear you apologize."
"I guess."
"You're her friend. Say sorry. Oh, or I can talk to her for you. I can talk to her and ask her why she's mad. I'll sit with her and find out. I'll tell her that her friends want to meet after school to go Spinner's across the street."
"We have club after school today."
"Club, today?" Jay gasps, "That's right. Open period confused me on time. We got here early." He usually studies during the break, but he went off to find out where Erin could be spending the allotted time. Running into Ryan first, he was distracted by his request for help carrying costumes to the set room. From there, many of the other theater kids showed up. It felt like he was at club the past hour.
"You still haven't told me if you have any classes with Erin. Do you share classes or lunch? What's she like in class? What does she eat most during lunch? Is she in any clubs? I know she likes Play-Doh. And-and I want to be friends with her. And-"
"Maisie likes you."
"Likes me?" Jay exclaims, stumped beyond belief. "Likes me how? She's so mean."
Ryan grumbles, seeking how to address the pressure he feels on both ends. "She is really mean, but she doesn't know any other ways to act. It's easier to follow what she says." He changes his focus to the ground, realizing he made a mistake. He knows why Erin is mad.
"No, she's a bully. I don't care why."
"So, you don't like Maisie? She wants you to be her boyfriend."
"What! No! I don't like her... like her like that."
"Oh," Ryan smiles. "Yeah, like-liking a girl in middle school," he shudders, "way too early for us." Jay nods in agreement. "But do you like anyone? Like that?"
Jay's thoughts wander to Erin, and he glances back to the hallway he last saw her. He needs to spend more time with her. "I think so."
Teddy's angelic squeals come in waves as he plays with his Play-Doh, holding the molded figure in his grasp. He squeezes the clay, morphing the shape. His carefree giggles bring joy to Erin's heart. Teddy is having the time of his life on the bed, the toy his new favorite.
Erin watches from the sidelines, smiling at her brother while she packs their room. Their simplistic closet arrangement amounts to a fluid strategy in stowing what she could carry. She empties their closet, seamlessly packing away their stuff in her backpack and trash bag, leaving a few articles of clothing behind.
Tomorrow will be their final day at the shelter. The workers prepared her all week long on the expectations and the transition into the foster care system. A social worker only met the siblings once to designate if they would or should be in shared placement. It is utterly terrifying for her.
Tomorrow will be hard to accept. Erin knows that to be true. Her last shred of hope would go to waste if she used an ounce of prayer on her mother. Yet, she glimpses at Teddy, hoping for him at least a speck of a miracle will happen.
A footfall advances to their bedroom. Suzanne, Erin discerns. Her check-ins are more frequent and unscheduled. The visits reassured Suzanne that Erin accepted their next steps and was not planning to run away. Erin resisting the urge to fight back went against her livelihood. As the week progressed, she understood the purpose of their new placement. Despite her world ending as she knew it, perhaps the change would be for the better.
The doorknob shakes before the grating sound of it jerking open directs her attention. Erin greets them, then does a double take of the visitor at the foot of the door, recognizing them immediately.
"Mom?" Erin trails to her mother, relief flooding her senses. As it would for any child, a familiar face among the strangers in the crowd day on end.
"There's my baby," Bunny breathes, just as relieved as her, meeting her halfway in the room. Erin smiles, convincing herself of this long-awaited reunion. For some inexplicable reason, Erin desires to run into her mother's arms. Her reality turns back on an axis she can equate.
"Come here," Bunny says, holding out her arms and rushing by Erin - a mere bump in the road for her actual target.
Erin crystallizes, her feet unmoving from their position on the floor. She armors herself, witnessing Bunny bundle Teddy in her arms. Devoid of any emotion, she cannot react, but it does not stop her nose from stinging or her chest from palpitating. Bunny's arms lovingly surround her brother, cooing at him and rocking him close.
Bunny looks him over, digging her fingers in his palm and checking his mouth. "What is he eating?" She quizzes, a piss poor version of acknowledging her daughter in the room. "What did you give him?" Bunny yells, coming around from the bed to question her.
"N-Nothing." Erin recovers, standing her ground. Analyzing what Teddy ate, she picks up the plastic can, displaying the toy to her mother. "The toy has no bad warnings... non-nontoxic. For ages two and up," Erin sheepishly reads the label, laying the can down on the bed. "He-he's okay... you got it out?"
"Not the point, Erin," Bunny spits, her face contorting in vexation, "Look at what you allowed to happen. He could have choked. I'm the mother for a reason. You don't know how to take care of him."
"We were playing," Erin regresses, adding space between them, "He made a snowman. And I was watching him while I was..." she pauses, glancing at the two bags on the floor.
"Erin. The social worker is arriving tomorrow-" Suzanne announces, entering the room for another untimed visit. "Barbara," her rapidly blinking eyes fill with curiosity, "You returned?"
"I never left," Bunny says, her arrogance shining through her disheveled appearance.
Looking between Erin and Barbara, Suzanne can only presume the mother's motives, and she explodes. "These children have been without their mother for two months. You were gone! It's deplorable what you've put them through."
Bunny looks to Erin, worried, communicating to take Teddy as she sets him down on the bed. "We're staying here. If that's a problem, we'll just have one of our sleepovers."
"None of that is happening Barbara, CFS is picking up these children. You abandoned them. You have no claim to them starting tomorrow," Suzanne reminds, her heart taking a hit watching as Erin backs away to the edge of the bed, concealing herself behind it.
Bunny lashes out, the accusations throwing her in a blind rage. She shoves Suzanne into the hallway, separating the worker from her children.
"You aren't taking them!"
Suzanne calmly updates her on the last two months since her disappearance, attempting to de-escalate the growing conflict. The scene unfolds before her eyes, and Erin panics at the unlikely turn of events. Her mother screams one vulgar word after another, demanding them to hear out her justifications.
"We're calling the police."
Erin rushes to their bags, looping her backpack through her arms. "It'll be okay, Teddy," picking him up, she cradles him to her chest. The commotion intensifies in the main hall as Bunny trashes the areas within reach, smashing lamps and tearing down posters. The shelter workers corner Bunny in an attempt to subdue her. The ongoing ruckus agitates Teddy, the theme of instability in the environment too much for the toddler. Erin slips by them, meandering outside and executing their escape.
...
Carrying her brother for a prolonged period left her extremely whacked. Their garage bag, full of items Erin acquired, had to be cut off on her hike to the Washington Park corner store. She was reluctant to toss it aside, but her dragging of the bag tore holes in it, pouring out the contents on the street. With the bag deteriorating, there was no choice but to leave it behind. Collecting what Teddy could not go without, she swapped out her stuff for his.
The code her mother slipped in her dispute with Suzanne provided Erin the security she needed. It was simple to follow. Get to Roscoe's Market. Point A to Point B. But on foot, the community is a distance away. Erin hustles down the street, nightfall approaching faster than her feet could move. Teddy flails desperately in her hold, fussy from their hike across town. Her burning shins and sore arms are a warning that she is comparably depleting in vigor.
The peal of the shop's bell is a triumphant buzzer. They reached the finish line. Erin shuffles Teddy on her hip, correcting him in place as she digs in her vest pocket for loose change. She works her shoulder after setting him down, his hand tight in hers. The store has a unique charm despite the cracked drywall and dusty element to the air of its rundown appearance. Stocked with essentials and go-to eats, Erin beelines to a well-known aisle, and she zones in on the Combos. Snatching up two and a chocolate drink, they tally to the checkout counter.
"Hello, little lady." The aging shopkeeper gathers her pickings to scan. His smile lines, dark spots, and sunken cheeks only compliment his friendly nature.
"How much of my stuff is five dollars?" Erin skips pleasantries, concerned more about sustenance and her task. Not batting an eye, the shopkeeper rings her up, handling her bag with care. He dangles it over the counter for Erin to retrieve with her free hand.
"So, I bought this stuff. Can I get the bathroom key?"
Tenderness greets his face, recognizing the little girl in his shop, who had grown a few feet taller with a look hard to forget. "Do you need it out of service tonight?"
"Yea," Erin rasps, the word full of anguish.
"Well, okay then?" He hands her the peg and key, sternly gripping it before releasing it, "Those aren't going to be enough snacks. Why don'tcha grab some more and some juices too, on me."
Erin nods, taking the key in her grasp and squeezing Teddy's hand with the other. Gauging the time of night, Erin figures her mother will be following behind her. The trek alone surmounting a high level of stress for Bunny. "And leave the-"
"Leave a pack of Marlboro for your mother and give it to her when she shows." He repeats gently, this instance not being the first time he met the mother-daughter duo.
"Yea."
"There are several occasions we found Ryan dressed inappropriately for school functions, Friday causal, and church service. It cannot continue not with our dress code policy. Young boys dress like young boys. He will be suspended if we see him violating it again and expelled if it continues after that," the principal vehemently explains to the custodial parent in the chair across from him.
"My son isn't harming anyone. My late wife was homeschooling him, but Ryan deserves to study and observe our faith amongst his peers. It's ignorant people like you that make it harder for him to maintain enrollment."
"He is a distraction to his classmates… accessorizing as he does with his uniform. If not also confusing the other children hitting puberty."
"What does that have to do with my kid? It's just clothing. It's expressive-"
"Enough. Those are our rules, our policies. It is not conditional. Get a handle on your son, or we will dismiss him from King's Cross and systematically the parochial school system in Chicago. I'll make sure of it."
The stares are at a standstill, neither one budging on their position. Accompanying Ryan was his father. He lived with him on weekends and stayed at a nearby group home during the week. His father's work hours meant he had no guardian, subsequently landing him in the accommodations at the center. The Principal's Office is not where he wanted to be. He skirted the bullies, but the alienation from his classmates, once he entered the school system, became immeasurable. Ryan got along well with the popular girls because they loved how he dressed, but their characters lacked the sustainable friendship he wanted.
"Hey, Ryan."
Checking over his shoulder, Ryan spots Jay whispering to him from the hallway.
"Hi, Jay," Ryan mouths in his direction, glancing between his father and the principal asking to step out.
Jay nosed in on their discussion. He decided upon himself to find out why Erin was missing from school. It had been weeks since finding her on campus. He excused himself from class more times than not to scour the building (classrooms, detention halls, and playgrounds) to catch sight of her. Erin made no appearances. Panic-stricken, he felt an urge to speak to the principal. Instead of an empty office, Jay found Ryan receiving a verbal warning.
"Do you know where Erin is? Have you seen her? She's not at school," Jay pesters, asking every person that may have had contact with her. "I'm worried about her. I just want to see her again. Do you-"
"You're always asking me about Erin! Erin. Erin. Erin. Ever since you first talked to me," Ryan thunders, his issues compounding. From the ostracizing in his classes to the possibility of expulsion, he is dealing with too many problems. Navigating it alone, he has no one checking on him. He is only fortunate that his father accepts his wardrobe. Ryan takes whatever clothing is donated to his group home and wears it. So what the clothes he wore were girls' clothes. He enjoys colorful prints, designs, and jewelry. Jay never seemed bugged by his style. In hindsight, it was probably due to him needing answers about Erin.
"Erin's my friend. And she left without saying goodbye to me," Ryan sniffs, his brows furrowed, "She changed schools and... didn't tell me. So, leave me alone. You weren't really trying to be my friend anyway." Ryan returns to the office, closing the door before Jay comments.
Befuddled, Jay remains outside the Principal's Office. Answers. He needs answers more than he anticipated, and about two people, Erin and Ryan. His connection to Erin is a special one, and he was exploring it. He treated Ryan as a means to an end, a frivolous attempt to familiarize himself with the girl he liked - an elusive one at that. Over the weeks, through theater club, he was learning to befriend Ryan. They both could have been his friends. Now, Jay is back to zero.
The conclusion of the meeting leads to Ryan's father signing him out early. Jay queues in next to dredge up his concerns. "Um, Principal Murphy. My friend Erin. She isn't in school-"
"Son, it's best not to concern yourself in other student's affairs. Time to go back to your class. Fourth period bell is about to ring."
"Can I just know what happened? Did she get in trouble like how Ryan is? Change schools or...?" Jay sucks on the bottom lip, nervously chewing on it.
"Return to class. I have nothing for you. It's not a matter of your concern," Principal Murphy reiterates as the bell rings.
His visit to the principal did not pan out how he imagined. Ambled with no concrete explanation, Jay saunters back to class to retrieve his textbooks, saddened by the fact he is back to square one. He refuses to give up. He needs to do more investigating.
The void in his heart has no replacement. Jay became a mindless zombie the week following the confirmation Erin no longer attended their school. The last few times he saw her, he knew she was struggling. Jay had no context of what the problems could be. All he could do was use the information he had and start at the drawing board. His clues are not nearly enough to be able to pick up a trace to where she could have gone.
His worry plagues him for weeks after. The defeat felt unbearable. Jay was turning in his homework late, and his overall grades were affected by it. He stopped attending his club activities and missed rehearsals. It was madness. He felt like he was trapped in the dark with no path to escape. Before resigning himself back to the closets in his house, his anxieties flared, his mom suggested they make a stop at their church.
Midday lunch hour left the gallery free of visiting parishioners, providing Jay with more privacy while the priest entertained his confessional. He has no sins to address, but the priest's presence is necessary. Jay's thoughts are running rampant, and third-party advice may absolve his guilt.
"I have a friend that went missing from school. I don't see her anymore," Jay begins, dividing his attention by regarding every tiny detail in the curtained booth.
"I'm sad she's gone. I told myself school would be easier, no more fears. But I'm scared," Jay says, leaning his head on the partition wall, "I pretended to be friends with someone else because I was trying hard to be friends with her. The girl. The one who's missing. I like her."
Jay nervously scratches his arm, stepping near the latticed screen. "Maybe I scared her off, bothered her. I-I don't know how to be a friend," he slumps back, digging the ball of his foot in the floor. "I can't escape the mean people at school. It makes me angry. I hate it. And-and I must be a bully too because I was mean to my friends somehow. Now, I don't have either friend."
He lowers his head, a crestfallen frown taking shape, "Will they forgive me? Is there a chance I'll see Erin again?" The priest is no fortune teller. Jay knows that. Faith feels stronger than dread, and he trusts that faith could be enough.
"Have you forgiven yourself?" The priest asks after allowing him to speak. Fueling his days with self-doubt, Jay is surprised by the positive response. "Then all can be forgiven. I hear your hurt, and that penance parries any guilt you feel. Time grants us our perspective. An abundance of good comes to those who wait. Be patient. Be a friend to those you don't favor. For those you do, when they return, will see you are a safe place to confide."
Jay listens, spending a few minutes ruminating on the guidance. The counsel weighs deep. He ends in a prayer, exiting the booth.
Bending his knee at the pew, he scoots in the aisle of his seat. "You are very worried about that friend of ours, aren't you, sweetheart?" Vivian lifts her arm to welcome Jay in her embrace. He melds into the comfort his mother provides, nestling on her shoulder. His sorrow elevates slightly.
"How did the talk with Father Paul go? Did it help make you feel any better?"
He lost a friend and is experiencing that pain for the first time. Jay valued their moments spent together. Erin meant a lot to him. All that new time gained, he will pay an equal amount missing his friend, if not longer. The emptiness feels worse than the last. His chat with the priest provided a welcomed clarity to his situation. Jay adjusts his head, digging for a placement to listen to his mom's heartbeat. The heavy rhythm eases him significantly, wordlessly telling him a story.
They loitered on Roscoe's block the following day for any signs of Bunny. Unclaimed went her pack of cigarettes, similar to the children now on the side of the road. They were clinging to a hope of her eventual arrival. In retrospect, the lack of their mother's situational awareness was par for course. Erin toyed with the idea of staying another night in the corner store bathroom, but she did not want to wear out her welcome. The favor was better suited for another night when the siblings were in desperate need of shelter. Right now, the goal set was to locate her mother.
After three weeks on the street, Erin deduced they were reverting to the condition of desperation. They avoided King's Cross campus, Erin journeying to the outskirts of downtown Chicago to unearth any potential hotspots her mother could have been. Sleeping behind dumpsters and breaking into abandoned cars, Erin ran out of places to sleep at night and rest during the day without getting picked up. It was more effortless blending into the crowd with her mother, but two lone siblings raised eyebrows.
Erin sacrifices her sleep, her hunger, and her dignity for Teddy. She cares for him first. She rationed off her food and water supply to pass along to the adult stranger they now sit beside. They met a few days earlier when Erin stumbled upon their encampment. The street disguise helps in the ruse of playing a family, which helps seek donations from generous citizens.
The lunch rush supplies them the opportunity to garner more sympathy. Erin dusts her clothes, positioning herself to prepare her monologue. Successfully collecting a couple of bills from onlookers, she hustles closer to the end of the sidewalk. An unmistakable sandy shade of blonde hair mixes in the crowd stepping off the city bus, aiming for the business two doors down.
Bunny. "Mom!"
The tug on her sleeve distracts Bunny's attention from her errand to the person who grabs her. Ready to give them a piece of her mind, Bunny shakes them loose. "Erin," she exhales, calming down her hostility. "There you are," Bunny exaggerates, feigning a release of distress. She skims her daughter for any injuries, scoping out the immediate area.
"You have Teddy. Oh my, God," Bunny runs over to her little boy, welcoming both her kids in her motherly hold. "We've been looking for you all over. I knew you couldn't have been far. We searched every day. No leads. I can't believe it," she smiles, her eyes glistening to act out her tearful unification.
"Let's go home," Bunny leads them to the bus stop queue.
"Home?" Erin recoils, letting go of her hand, baffled at the assertion. Her mother only nods in confirmation. Erin goes back to her mat and grabs their belongings, exchanging the money earned for it, thanking the stranger. She works fast securing on her backpack and returns to her mother for an unknown bus ride.
...
"Where are we? Whose house is this?" Erin surveys the bungalow's layout, rocking Teddy in her arms - now the one holding him.
"Don't be silly, baby," Bunny collapses on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table. "This is our home and where we've been living. Go settle in now that you're back," she waves them off, flicking her lighter.
"I've never been here," Erin hesitantly charges forward, the prospect of making herself at home near delusional. Why were they here? How did her mother find this place, better yet afford it? She flusters, her voice beginning to stammer, "I was at the shelter with Teddy. And-and we were at the corner store waiting for you. You didn't show up. We-"
"You both have been missing," Bunny puffs her first draw on the cigarette. "After we moved into the house, we went out to the park. On the way home, we got separated," she taps the excess in the ashtray, returning it to her mouth for another drag. The offensive smell lingers in the room, bombarding the siblings' nostrils with secondhand smoke. "You and Teddy were on the streets for months. I looked all over for you."
"No!" Erin counters forcibly, coughing from the smoke, "No. That's not true. You, me, and Teddy stayed at the shelter during the summer, but you left. Then I went to a school. See, I-I'm still wearing my uniform. I-"
"Erin, stop making things up," Bunny kicks the coffee table. Rising from the couch, she drops the cigarette bud in the tray to extinguish itself. "Do you hear yourself? You do this all the time," Bunny whines, her tone pacifying Erin to stress her point, "Those outfits... you do such a good job finding clothes for us off the street."
Erin starts to refute only for Bunny to silence her. "You're confused, baby. The dehydration, the lack of sleep," Bunny kneels, placing a comforting hand on Erin's shoulder, gazing at her children, "I bet you two were starving. You probably dreamt all of that out on the street trying to find your way back home." She takes solace in Teddy's entertainment with the new lights and patterns of the front room. The toddler is stimulated by the house and not privy to the disagreement occurring.
"You didn't know the address. I understand. You got lost, baby. I'm not mad. We're just glad my kids are safe," Bunny's piercing eyes translate a look of satisfaction in her claim. She pats Erin's shoulders, standing up to grab a single.
"What? No, I've never been here. I-"
"Stop it!" Bunny rages, throwing her pack on the floor and facing Erin, "You are going in circles. Don't you remember any of this?"
"I don't remember this place!" Erin cries, startling Teddy.
"Yes, you do. You're just tired, Erin," Bunny smirks, "Your room was left the way you decorated it. Aren't you happy to finally be home? Go check out the rooms, then get some rest." She collects her pack and collapses once more on the couch. "Oh, and bath Teddy. Change him out of those hideous clothes."
Erin starts down the open stretch, passing through the dining room and kitchen. She softly hums a tune, carrying her little brother in her arms to relax him. She comes upon the narrow hallway leading to the bedrooms. Selecting the open room, they tour it first.
"Oh, Teddy! Look," Erin awes at the bedroom converted into a multipurpose play zone. The small quarters are enough to still serve as a nursery for her brother. "A room for us to play," She whirls him around to preview the room before they tour the next room.
"Wow," Erin's awestruck expression shifts, continuing her inspection of the bedroom. She sets Teddy down on the carpet, glancing at the toys and containers of art supplies. Pulling the tub from the dresser, a wave of numbness hits her, the container slipping from her hands. She remembers speaking similar words and doing similar actions. Her feet are roots on the ground as the room begins to shake around her.
"All this stuff," Her voice murmurs. Erin faintly parts her lips to repeat it. Her fist rubs her eye, but she does not feel the sensation. The paling skin and the dripping sweat on her face are a terrifying reflection. Her presence of mind detaches, no recognition, no connection to the image of the girl in the mirror. Unable to sort her memory from fact and fiction, Erin aimlessly searches for a life preserver.
"Hi Erin," A heavy voice bellows through the doorway. The man rests his hand on the doorknob, peaking around and spotting Teddy. "We're so glad you're home. Your mom and I were looking everywhere for the two of you."
The tilt of his lips and the exuberance in his delivery alert Erin, causing her to jump back into her body. "The family is all together now." His words echo in the room, the sound too far away for Erin to hear. She locates Teddy, the fog of confusion blanketing her perception.
"You forgot about me already," the man shakes his head, "I'm your stepdad, Mr. Fletcher."
Shockwaves topple her illusion. Erin shuts down, her sobs awaking her to the new stepfather in front of them. Snatching Teddy, Erin instinctively finds a spot to hide. It turns out finding a closet is still a function she remembers in the chaos.
AN: Hello! ^_^- I'm finished with age 11, phew. It ended up being more chapters than I expected, but that's good because now my story will be a bit longer. I got to figure out how to get these chapters shorter, merp.
I hope everyone is doing well. With it being an awareness month, I wanted to add a tidbit by saying Fanfiction has been a haven for me to escape. I enjoy reading all these authors fics, more more more lol. I presume this is true be for others too.
To all my visitors: You are important. You are worthy of love and deserving of so much kindness. Thank you for stopping by, and I can't wait to have you read my next chapter.
Besides the Baby Linstead one shot, are y'all feeling romance or mystery for a new fic?
Stay safe!