Crushing Gravity

Chapter 2

I've been moved to different states before, like Arizona, Colorado, California, or all the way up to Illinois and Wisconsin. But it's my first time going to Washington, and I've never even heard of the little town called Forks. I wonder if it's next to a small town called Spoons, or maybe Knives.

Why can't I go to Spoons? Great, now I'm actually wanting to go to a place called spoons. I wonder if they eat a lot of soup there?

"Samantha, did you take your pills?"

I pull my eyes from the airplane window to glare at my social worker. Julia knows full well that I don't like to be called by my full name, and she does it whenever she's upset with me for one thing or another.

I take a moment to consciously steady my fidgeting. "You know it don't like them; they make my mind all wonky."

She sighs and stands up to search through her carry-on.

My leg starts bouncing again as she hands me two small pills and a bottle of water.

"Is this why you've been so violent? You haven't been taking your medication for your ADHD?"

"I'm violent because of these shitty homes you keep putting me in!"

"If you took your medication and stopped acting out, maybe people more financially secure would take you in," she snaps right back and my jaw clenches.

She doesn't know Sammy, a familiar voice whispers in my head.

Yeah, well it wouldn't make much difference anyhow. They'd just move me somewhere else that it will happen again, and a known evil is better than an unknown one, right?

She sighs as I quickly take the medicine and then proceed to ignore her.

As the seatbelt light flashes on and the plane starts to descend, I feel the medication kick in. I feel sleepy and everything is happening slower.

It doesn't feel right. I hate those stupid pills.

Even after the plane lands, it still takes us an hour to actually leave the airport. We didn't have to go to baggage claim, but Julia did have to wait in a super long line to get keys to her rental, go through several billion security checks, and then wait in a line in the parking lot just to get out.

The sun is setting by the time we actually get on the road and the sound of rain mixed with the effects of my pills, lulls me to sleep.

"Sam, wake up; we're here," a voice shakes me out of my drug induced slumber.

I sit up with a groan as my bruised muscles protest leaving the position they were stuck in for a little over two hours.

"Gross," I mutter, wiping the puddle of drool from the seat with my sleeve, along with the bit sticking my hair to my cheek.

Glancing out the window, it's still raining and a lot darker out, but I can see a small house nestled snugly between a few scattered trees and other small homes.

I sling my bag over my shoulder as I follow Julia out of the car, and we make our way up to the front door.

It opens before she's able to knock.

"Hi, you must be the caseworker from the phone, I'm Amy Fuller," the adults shake hands with big smiles before she turns to me. "And you must be Samantha, it's really nice to meet you."

"It's Sam," I say, ignoring her offered hand. "And where am I crashing?"

Her smile drops just a little.

"Samantha," Julia hisses just as I hear the disappointed, Sammy, you shouldn't be so rude, sigh in my head.

I scowl and ignore both.

Mrs. Fuller smiles again anyhow and opens the door wider so we can come in.

"Brady," she calls as she shuts the door. "Come say hello!"

A tall and muscular boy comes around the corner with a smile, and I regard him wearily.

Not every foster family I've had has been bad, but all of them get fed up with me fairly quick. Half the time, it's honestly not my fault.

"Hey," he greets, extending his hand much like his mother did. "I'm Brady." Again, I don't take it. Not necessarily because I want to be rude, this time, but because hand shakes make me feel awkward. And I don't like to be touched.

"Sam," I nod in acknowledgment.

He shrugs and drops his hand.

"Brady, why don't you send Collin home and show Sam here where her room is?" Mrs. Fuller suggests in that kind of tone that you know it's not a suggestion.

"Sure, mom," he agrees easily, before shouting into the room he just came from. "Yo, Collin, mom's kicking you out!"

"Awe," a boy just as beefy, and looking very similar, appears around the corner. "Amy, you're kicking me out?" She gives him a glare. "I mean, er, Mrs. Fuller?"

She opens the door for him. "Go home Collin."

"Fine; see you tomorrow, Brady, new pretty girl."

I roll my eyes.

"See ya, man!" Brady calls. "So your room is this way..."

I follow him down a hall as he points out different doors.

"That's my room... the bathroom... Mom's room is on the other side of the house... And this is your room; I hope the color is okay. You can do whatever you want with it: put up posters, paint it, anything other than knock down the walls."

I take in the light grey walls and dresser next to the twin sized bed.

"So, do you want me to get the rest of your bags? Are they out in the car still?"

"Nope," I say, tossing my backpack onto the bed. "This is it."

"Really?" His eyes widen. "Just a backpack?"

"I don't stay in one place very long. Your mom seems nice, so I give this place four months, maybe five, before I'm kicked out." I shrug.

"What's the longest time you've been in one place?" He asks curiously, coming further into the room and flopping onto the bed with complete ease.

I twitch irritably and decide to go ahead and put my things away with him still here.

"When I was nine, someone kept me for a whole year," I sigh. It was one of the good homes, and I actually tried to be good for them, but she had a baby and he got a job offer in Europe. They couldn't keep me.

"What's the shortest time?" He leans back, crossing his arms behind his head.

"Five minutes," I snort. "We didn't even make it out of the parking lot before they were taking me back."

He whistles, seeming impressed.

With nothing else to unpack, I uneasily sit down at the end of the bed. He's a very big person, but there is enough room for me to sit crisscross and still have a foot of space between us.

It feels odd talking to someone like this, casually, but it seems fine enough for now.

Julia pops her head around the doorway and gives a knowing smile. It's creepy so I raise my eyebrow like 'what?'

"I'm heading out now," she tells me walking farther into my temporary room. She sets a little bottle of prescription pills on the dresser. "Take you damn meds, Samantha." She commands before turning away and exiting as swiftly as she came.

I roll my eyes.

"You sick?" Brady asks, and I suddenly feel annoyed with his presence so I scowl at him.

"Yeah. I'm sick of stupid questions so just leave me alone."

He raises both hands in mock surrender. "Damn, girl, sorry."

Sammy, that wasn't nice.

Shut up, Lyla!

Brady rises to his feet and makes to leave the room. As he's passing me, he touches my shoulder, just two fingers to get my attention, and I can see the 'good night' on the tip of his tongue, but I jerk away with a deadly glare.

"Never touch me!" I snarl. Anger, at myself, makes it sound just a little more threatening.

He mutters another 'damn girl,' before heading the rest of the way out.

"We are walking to school tomorrow so you need to be ready to leave by eight," he says just before closing the door.

I glare down at the cracking scabs on my knuckles before swinging off the bed and locking the door.

Then I turn off the light and climb back in bed, leaning against the wall with my knees tucked to my chest.

The tip of my thumb finds its way into my mouth, and I just sit there a while, listening, until my medication once again drags sleep over me.

A/N: Please leave a review!

~Silver~