I do not own divergent. I only own my ideas.
Chapter 2
Tris POV
"So you will be sharing a room with Molly," Jamie explains as we walk. "She is your age, I believe. It's like having a built in sister, right?"
This lady has got to be kidding me.
"You have a brother correct?" she asks.
I nod, knowing that she cannot see me behind her. She turns around and I nod again.
"I thought so," she continues to ramble on.
Caleb and I were split up when we were named wards of the state. As both of our parents were only children and we only had one living grandparent, that had Alzheimer's, it was the only option. Our parents had a will and minimal assets that Caleb and I would receive at 25, but for now we were just another case number. My parents were too worried about third world children, just assuming we would be fine. They were incredibly selfless individuals.
Teenagers are rarely adopted, we are too late into the system I learned. I was ok with that, I had a wonderful mother and father and they would be impossible to replace. However, I also learned that siblings are not always placed together. It's difficult to find availability for even two siblings to be placed together. I knew Caleb was placed with an older woman whom he seemed to have adjusted to. Caleb was an excellent student and never got into trouble. I was a fairly decent student who rarely was in trouble outside of the occasional tardy slip. However, as opposed to Caleb, there were not foster homes with availability for a teenage girl, so I was sent to a group home for girls. It was terrifying. The girls there could not be placed with families because of disciplinary problems and refusal to attend school regularly. I felt like I was thrown into another dimension. There were fights all the time. Girls would pick fights with me for "looking at them wrong" and then, when I started walking around with my head down people would start fights because "I wouldn't look at them". I just could not win. I learned how to hold my own, but there were gangs and every few weeks despite my best efforts I would end up at the emergency medical care center. I was just too small. Eventually, I was placed in a temporary emergency care home. I assume because my medical bills were building up. After two months, a spot opened with the Millers.
"…any questions?" Jamie asks standing in front of a doorway.
I had been lost in my own thoughts of my journey here and had no idea what she said. I shake my head anyways and she walks away. I open the door to the room and find an empty bed and dresser on one half of the room. From my time in the system I know each child has to have their own bed and dresser, so assuming it was mine, I start unpacking.
"Dinner!" I hear someone call from downstairs.
Putting the last of my things in my dresser I walk downstairs. Max is sitting at the table with three boys and another girl, while Jamie is pulling something out of the oven.
"Take a seat" Max commands. "This is Eric, Peter, Drew, and Molly," he continues indicating the others at the table.
I don't say much through dinner. Then again, no one really does. Max has a football game going on the TV behind my head which he pretty stares at for the vast majority of the meal and Jamie flips through a magazine. I avoid the glares from Eric and Peter who sit across from me, not comfortable from the first impression they are making. After dinner Max informs me that the children do the dishes in his house. I start picking up the dishes on my side of the table as Max and Jamie exit the kitchen.
"Well, I guess we will leave you to it then," Eric sneers.
I look up from the dish I was stacking to see all of them grouped by the back door. Smirks run across their faces.
"Seriously?" I question annoyed.
Smirks still plastered across their faces they exit out the back door, leaving me in the kitchen alone.
"Super" I mutter under my breath.
After I finish the dishes, I head upstairs.
"Tris, can you come in here," Max calls. "I need another beer."
I fetch his beer from the refrigerator and head upstairs again. Laying down on my bed I close my eyes and start figuring out how many days I have left til my 18th birthday, also know as my ejection from the child services system. My mind is interrupted by a pillow being shoved over my face.
