Stef

I'm waiting in the lobby of the San Francisco Child Protective Services building. I have to meet with Callie's social worker before I go pick her up. I read her entire file. Twice. What this girl has been through is too much for one person to bear. All of these reports jam packed into one folder and yet I feel as though there's something missing; something that has gone undetected.

"Stef?" I look up and am surprised to see a familiar face.

"Bill?" Bill used to be the twin's social worker. We had to work with him for a number of years when it came to fostering and eventually adopting Jesus and Mariana.

"What brings you here?" he asks with a tone of curiosity as I stand up to greet him.

"New assignment," I answer, "Sixteen year old girl…"

Bill lets out a sigh, "You wouldn't by any chance be talking about Callie Jacob, would you?"

I furrow my eyebrows, "Yes, actually. She's one of yours?"

Bill gestures for me to follow him to his office, "Her and her brother."

"Brother?" I repeat as I sink into a chair. He shuts the door behind me before walking over to his desk and taking a seat. He turns to his computer and clicks on a few things.

"Callie Jacob, sixteen years old," He begins, turning his monitor so that I can see the screen, "She and her brother Jude entered the system seven years ago when they were nine and six respectively. They're parents got into a car accident―their father was driving drunk. Their mother died on impact but the father survived, got sent to jail. They've been in foster care ever since."

I nod, taking in the information, "When I was reading Callie's file, I noticed she was removed from a lot of homes."

Bill sighs and leans back in his chair. Clearly, this is a subject that has been addressed many times before, "Callie has a pattern…an M.O. if you will. She and her brother are placed in a home, she does something, and they get moved. Every time."

"What does she do exactly?" I ask, leaning forward in my chair, "The reports are pretty vague."

"What does she not do," Bill mutters to himself as he scrolls down on his computer, "Let's see…she's been physically violent with her foster parents, she's stolen from them, she's run away...the list goes on and on."

I shake my head, "But why? There has to be a reason behind her actions." I find it hard to believe this girl would just act out without a particular goal in mind. You are violent when you want to protect yourself. You steal when you need something. You run away when the place you're in is no longer ideal or safe. So what happened in each and every foster home to make this girl resort to these actions?

Bill chuckled bitterly to himself, "You're going to learn something today, Stef. There's never a reason with Callie."

I look at him for a moment before shifting my gaze to the computer screen, "And her brother…Jude is it? Where is he?"

"In San Ysidro, with the foster father whose car Callie destroyed." Bill answers, "He's fine. Asks about his sister a lot."

"Will they be placed together?"

Bill makes a face and shifts in his seat, "Not for the time being. I've found Callie a foster home not too far from the facility she's at now. She's not going to be happy about it, but it's the best I can do." It doesn't sound like it is, but I don't comment. He folds his hands on the desk, "Look, Callie is as tough as they come. She's not going to make it easy for you. She's an angry kid and she'll fight you on most things."

I stand up and shrug a little, "Nothing I can't handle."

"Stef," Bill stops me in a cautious tone, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

I nod and walk out of the office.

I'm not sure what I was expecting when I saw Callie, but standing here at this two-way window, I'm a bit surprised.

She looks awful.

Her skin is nearly translucent under the harsh fluorescent lights. Her hair hangs limp and dull around her face. There's a red bruise that spans across her left cheek. A cut runs down the side of her lip that has begun to scab over. Some dry blood surrounds it.

She looks nervous.

Her eyes dart around the conference room as if expecting the walls to collapse in at any moment. Her fingers drum erratically on the table, pausing only so that she can occasionally rub her nose.

"What happened to her face?" I ask the warden as I observe this girl, this child, from the window.

The warden shrugs, "Some of the girls get jealous when one of them gets released. It happens." It happens? I take a deep breath before turning the knob to the conference room and entering. Callie immediately reacts to my presence. In a split-second, she goes from nervous to confident; stoic. She sits up straight and rests her hands flat on the table. Her eyes bore into mine, her gaze unwavering.

I smile at her: the need to show I'm not a threat is overwhelming. I stop near the table, "Hi, Callie. I'm Officer Foster but you can call me Stef. Is it okay if I sit?"

She shoots me an incredulous look, "Why are you asking me?" I don't move and after a moment she gives a small nod, giving me the okay to sit. I do, scooting my chair in and pulling out some paperwork and a pen.

"I'm your new parole officer," I explain to her, trying not to falter under her impenetrable gaze, "Any questions?"

"I need to talk to my brother," she tells me bluntly. I could laugh―she's trying so hard to come off as this tough as nails girl but I see right through her little charade.

"Jude?"

Callie's façade slips for a moment and she leans forward in her seat, "Have you talked to him? Is he okay?"

The hopeful look on her face makes me wish I had something substantial to tell her, "No, I didn't talk to him, but I talked to Bill and he assured me your brother is fine."

The wall goes back up as Callie rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest, "Oh, well if Bill says he's okay…" The sarcasm in her voice is deliberate and unapologetic. I see what Bill means when I say she's not going to make it easy.

"So," I say, taking the cap off of my pen, "Bill has found a foster home for you not too far from here―"

"Makes it easier to send me back―"

"And we need to get you enrolled in school," I continue, not deterred by her comment. I look up at her, "Are you in any pain?"

She wasn't expecting this question because a flicker of surprise crosses her features, "I'm fine. When are we leaving?"

"Soon." I answer, folding my arms on the table and tilting my head up a bit, "We need to go over the terms of your parole. You getting sent back here is contingent on your behavior. Under no circumstances are you to break the law in any way. Assault, drinking, stealing―none of that. You are to stay within state lines. You are expected to attend school as well as weekly group therapy. It's really up to you whether or not you are put back in juvie. Do you understand?"

Callie's eyes are downcast, staring at her nails. I lean forward, "Hey. Look at me." Her eyes slowly rise up, finally meeting mine. I'm taken aback by the coldness of them; the emptiness.

"I asked, do you understand?"

She gives me a wry smile, "Understood, Officer Foster."

I sigh, "Callie, this isn't a joke."

"Clearly."

"I'm not plotting against you," I continue, desperately needing her to understand I'm fighting for her, not against her, "We're on the same team here."

She dismisses my statement with the shrug of a shoulder. She moves her head to the side, eyes fixed on an invisible spot on the wall. Her foot taps against the floor to its own beat. I wait for some time before pushing back from the table and standing up.

"Let's go."

Happy Memorial Day Weekend!

I've written up to chapter nine in this story. Callie's first interaction with Mariana is…interesting to say the least ;) I really like writing this story. I'm trying not to rush anything because it's about the character's feelings and how they change over time. Jude will be coming into the story probably around chapter eleven.

SPOILER ALERT FOR NEXT CHAPTER/CHAPTER AFTER THAT: Callie will be placed in a foster home, but not for very long at all…What's going to happen, you ask? You'll just have to read and find out!

Thank you for all the reviews/follows/favorites. I appreciate them very much!

Please review! I like to know how I'm doing/what you guys want to see. I try to incorporate what people want to see as much as I can and sometimes you guys have such good ideas that I HAVE to use them.

Until next time,

-Liv