FINALLY! I DID IT!

I am so so sorry about how long this chapter took me in comparison to chapter 2... I was really stuck with what to do and where to take it. If you have read either of the other two fics I have posted since, you will know that I have been trying to incorporate the show at the same time as writing my own story, and was finding it hard to do so. I didn't even end up referencing either of the past two episodes in the end which really surprised me. I also think this may actually be the longest chapter yet. Just.

I am happier with this chapter than I originally was, so I hope the wait was at least somewhat worth it. Otherwise, I'm sorry I guess.

As usual, feel free to review, send me and fic requests and all that stuff, and I will try to update quicker this time. I have another idea for a one-shot fic at the moment which involves the girls dating privately and the family all finding out in individual ways, so maybe you'll see that in the next few days.

"Urgh. How am I supposed to do anything with a sprained wrist?" Callie sighed in frustration, causing AJ to chuckle slightly beside her.

He was at her house trying to help her come up with ideas for her portfolio.

"You don't always need full use of both hands to make art, you know. There's more to art than just painting and drawing," he pointed out.

"Shut up. I know," the girl grumbled, learning back in her chair and groaning.

"Careful or you'll be cracking your head open next," he joked. In return he received a glare as the girl sat up straight again, pulling her chair closer to her desk and once again looking down at her list of ideas. Nothing.

The teenager had been blocked for a while, and it was starting to frustrate her. She only had a limited amount of time left to get her portfolio done, or at least a little bit more developed than it was, yet she didn't want to just make art from anything. She wanted her pieces to symbolise something. To have meaning.

Suddenly, a notification popped up on her phone. It was a text from Ximena. Deciding her thoughts were taking her nowhere soon, she slid her thumb across the screen and tapped in her passcode to read the message.

I missed you today. The sunset looked pretty cool.

Callie smiled at the message and opened the picture her friend had sent with the message. It showed the hall in the church which always looked spectacular as the Sun dipped. The array of magnificent colours that littered the floor was always a mesmerising site. Whenever the girls were together at the church as the sun was setting, they sat there and watched the hues as they changed, letting themselves be engulfed by the plethora of colours.

I missed you too, but my Moms made me stay at home to work on my portfolio. Currently getting nowhere.

The locked her phone after typing the reply before sighed and going back to her paper, momentarily forgetting the other presence in the room.

"You guys text a lot," AJ spoke up, reminding her he was there.

"Jesus, AJ," Callie jumped, pressing her hand to her rapidly beating heart, "You scared the crap out of me."

"I've been here for the last two hours," he said amused, "is there something going on? What's going on with you an Aaron?"

She gave him a puzzled look, "What, between me and Ximena? No... I–I'm not into girls. And me and Aaron are on a break."

"You don't seem sure about that," he commented.

"We are on a break. I called it," she explained, watching as her ex shook his head, "What?"

"Not that. Your feelings," he clarified, "just saying. You guys see each other a lot, and text more than we did."

"We are friends, AJ," she reaffirmed as he held his hands up in surrender, "and besides, even if I was into her, I'm not with Aaron for a reason. I don't need a relationship now. Now. Can we get back to this?"

Despite her denial, Callie couldn't stop thinking about what AJ had said.

There's was nothing going on between her and Ximena, so why did he seem to think there was? He was her ex and she always thought he knew her well – sometimes more than she knew herself – so his words seemed to unsettle her.

Sure, she knew Ximena was so pretty, and when she was happy, she felt happy too. She enjoyed spending time with her so much because she had never found someone who was so raw and real, whilst also so strong and invincible. She looked up to the older girl for all that she was going through, and still holding a smile on her face. Their friendship was nothing like she had had before. Ximena got her on so many more levels than most people did, but that didn't mean she had feelings for her.

Did she?

"How did brainstorming go?" Ximena quizzed the next day as Callie threw herself down onto her bed with a huff.

"Awful," she mumbled, defeated, "we got a total of two ideas and they both sucked."

"You're trying too hard," her friend said, "you need to let it come to you naturally."

"I don't have time, though," she sighed, "I've already sent of my application for art school, and I only have like, what... two pieces of work in my portfolio? Three if I include the project I did on my Mom's necklace, but I don't like it."

"Forcing yourself to come up with ideas will only take you longer," the older girl contradicted, "and if you don't like it, try again. Rebuild it. At least you have one idea you don't have to start from scratch on. Instead of coming up with the exact thing you want to do, try and think about what you want it to mean."

The younger girl soaked in the advice her friend gave her. It made sense. Maybe she was trying too hard to come up with ideas on the spot, and the fact that she couldn't made it all worse. She was so worried about doing her art, that she was actually causing herself to come to a dead end.

"Why are you so good at this? You're like a wise old woman," Callie joked.

"Thanks, I think?" Ximena laughed, "it's just my style. Calm, collected and slow. Apart from roller derby."

"Yeah well, I haven't really had that for the past 7 years," the brunette mumbled, "all it's been is chaos."

"So, express that chaos in your work," her friend advised, "just because we have lived different lives and taken different paces, it doesn't make you any less capable."

Ximena dragged Callie from the bed and sat her at one of the tables, placing her hands on her shoulders before grabbing some paper and a pen. After placing the items in front of her friend, she pulled out the chair beside her and sat down, facing towards her. She clasped her hands together and leant forward, resting her arms on her legs.

"If I asked you to use three words to describe your life, what would you say?" The Latina prompted.

"Uncertainty. Fear. Anxiety," Callie answered, looking at her after a few moments of thought. The older girl pointed towards the paper then, silently telling the brunette to jot that down.

"And what would you say are the most significant events in your life? That you haven't already done work on," she prompted further.

"Being in the foster system. Losing my Mom. Losing people. Girls United," Callie recalled, looking blankly in front of her and listing off a few things. She scribbled away at the paper in front of her, adding them to what she already had. Finally, she had a little bit of idea of what she wanted to do, and ideas were beginning to spark in her head.

"What about... what means the most to you? What's important to your life?" Ximena asked, trying to further the girls train of thought.

"Family," she replied almost instantly. It was the easiest answer yet.

"What about your childhood? How would you describe it?" Her friend questioned next.

"I didn't really have one," Callie answers honestly, letting out a defeated laugh and looking towards her lap, "not after my Mom died. I had to look after Jude. He was only little, and he needed someone to protect him."

Sensing that her friend was starting to feel a bit down about reminiscing so much of her past at once, Ximena scooted closer to her friend and pulled her into her chest. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders as the younger girl laid there, resting her chin on top of her head. They sat there in silence for a while.

"I'm sorry you had it so hard, Cal. You didn't deserve it. Any of it," the skater said, "I wish things had been easier for you."

"What about you? Tell me about your life," Callie encouraged, moving the conversation way from herself.

Ximena told Callie about how her Mom found out she was pregnant with Poppy and came to the USA when she was just two years old. She remembers nothing of her first few years in Mexico, but her parents always kept that part of their lives alive with authentic food and cultural celebrations. She told her about the times they would spend at the beach together as a family, and the many times they went to Disney because Poppy was obsessed with princesses when she was little. Ximena was more of a tomboy herself, but admitted she secretly loved going despite always moaning to her parents how boring it was. Callie learnt that she was first introduced to roller derby when she was 11 and had been practicing the sport ever since. She also learnt that Ximena had broken her fingers four times, her left wrist twice and twisted her ankle several times just from playing, but it never put her off. Her and her Dad were movie geeks and would spend sleepless nights just watching different films - to her Mom's disapproval. Their favourite film was It's A Wonderful Life and they had watched it over 30 times in total. And she and her Mom had be same music taste, listening to hours of The Beatles and Pink Floyd, dancing goofily around their living room.

"Me and Poppy have always been close to our parents. We had to be. I can't imagine what it will be like if they get taken away from us," the older girl sighed.

Callie smiled sadly at the girl and pulled her in for her hug. It was her time to offer some comfort to her friend.

"You don't think it's a bit... morbid?" Callie asked, unsure of herself.

The next day, the aspiring artist set to build on her ideas she had gathered with Ximena the day before.

She already had a piece of art which symbolised her time in juvie and the file behind her name, but she had not been specific to her times in foster care. Her whole life practically evolved around being a foster kid – ex foster kid – and she only saw it fit to have a project that portrayed it.

The idea she had come up with was to have a sculpture of her, writing across it all the words that stayed with her. The words that were repetitively screamed at her and etched into her brain. Even if she had found an amazing family who loved her with the Fosters, there was still a small part of her that thought about the things she had been told. She wanted to symbolise the abuse, too, with fake bruises and scars, but she was also terrified of putting herself out there so much. It was one thing to be able to admit to people she had been abused, but it was another to make something so raw and vulnerable.

"I mean... kind of. But it's your work and your past. If that's what you want to do, then do it. Do what you feel is right," Aaron advised.

"I don't know," the girl sighed, "I'm kind of scared."

The boy moved from his position leaning against the desk and set down next to his friend on the bed. He pulled her hands into his lap and held them, looking directly into her eyes as he spoke, "Callie. You're one of the bravest people I know. If this is what you want to do, then do it. Don't worry about what other people think and what they have to say. I think it's a great idea. What you have been through is not your fault and is nothing to be ashamed of."

Callie smiled at her ex-boyfriend, and the pair looked at each other for a while. After a few intense moments, Aaron began to lean in, closing his eyes.

"I—I can't," the girl spluttered, tearing her hands away and jumping up from the bed. She bit her lip and ran her hands through her hair, "I'm sorry. I can't do this. Not right now."

"It's okay," her ex said with a sad smile, "I shouldn't have done that. You said you wanted to take a break. I should've respected that."

"I'm sorry," she whispered again, looking to the floor. She rubbed her arm.

"Stop apologising," he reassured her, "I should get going. It's late."

Callie nodded and watched him leave her room, a silent tear rolling down her face as the heard the door closed downstairs. After a shaky breath, she took herself to the bathroom and locked the door. She placed her hands on the side of the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. Turning on the taps, she splashed her flushed face with cold water and though to herself.

What was that? Why did I freak out?