MITCHIE IS 17
"Girls, how would you feel about adoption?" Tom's shifting through a bunch of papers on his desk, totally distracted. I know he wants to help us, but he's got so much other paperwork to deal with considering the influx of kids in custody. Based on the testimonies we gave him the day after the raid, they were able to call Havenwood an unsafe environment for any minor and pull all the remaining children out. They're all invading Child Protective Services, which is where we are now, with Margaret. Tom says that they have to be very careful about this entire thing, though, because of the enormous controversy a similar raid in Texas stirred up last year.
"What about adoption?" I'm not really paying attention to him, more scanning the crowd of children outside his cubicle for people I know. Namely, Justin and Nate.
Tom chuckles at my lack of enthusiasm. "Nothing can happen until the trial, of course, but that's coming up very quickly. A high profile case like this, involving so many people- you kids are going to get justice fast. After the trial, however, there will be some serious problems regarding where you will go, especially for you, Mitchie."
A leaden weight causes my heart to fall right out of my chest and straight onto the floor. Quick as lightning, Mitchie snatches my hand up in a death grip. Neither of us is prepared to lose each other. "Tom, I don't know what you're thinking, but you can not separate us. There is no chance in hell." I lay it out there for him to see, praying that he understands.
He appears to, since he lets out a frustrated sigh at all of the legal documents lining his desk. "I wish it were that simple, but let me break down what could happen to you girls: Alex, your case is much easier. Your father abused you, and both he and your mother knew about abuse that was going on elsewhere and didn't stop it. We can send your father to jail on account of child abuse, and the two of them for child neglect. You'd probably go into foster care, which is a system we have here that places children with different sets of parents temporarily. You'll probably only have one set, since you're going to turn 18 in a little over a year. Then, you are free of the system and will be out on your own. Unless you are adopted- then you become that person's child for the rest of your life." I'm finding it difficult to wrap my mind around this, mostly because Mitchie doesn't fit into the scenario at all. I feel my resolve cracking, my brain exploding, needing to learn what will happen to her. I need to be with her. "When is your brother's birthday, Alex?"
"Um..." I'm caught off guard by the question, confused. "February 17th. Mine's February 19th. We're almost exactly a year apart... He'll be 18."
Tom scrunches his face in confusion. "Technically, he has the option to become your legal guardian once he turns 18-"
"What!" I scream, attracting the stares of people outside the cubicle. It takes me a second to calm down from my initial shock and rage, only just enough to form the words to explain this all to Tom. "You listen to me, OK? I am not sharing a house or being controlled by the cowardly asshole who got my brother killed! I will run away and live on the fucking street if I have to! I'll live in a car until I'm 18, I don't care! But the one thing I will not do is have Justin become my legal guardian!" I am absolutely livid, clearly shocking both Tom and Margaret, but Mitchie's used to my blow-ups. I really should work on controlling them, even if I have every right to be pissed at Justin. One day, when I see him again, I will beat the living daylights out of him and show him the pain I've been enduring for 17 years, and pound into him the pain of losing a sibling, a pain which he clearly does not experience on a daily basis.
Tom nods and Mitchie relaxes he tight grip, opting instead to rub her thumb along the back of my hand. "I understand your feelings, Alex, and I do have confidence that we can find your brother unfit to be your guardian based on his lack of real world experience as well as his knowledge of your continued abuse and his feeble attempts in stopping it. Mitchie, we need to discuss your situation now. I know that neither of you will like hearing this, but the sad fact is, we cannot do anything to Mitchie's parents. As of right now, they are completely innocent."
I want to scream, want to grab Tom by the throat and throttle him until he begs and tells me that he'll find a way for Mitchie to come with me, to keep her safe and away from her horrible parents and Rodney. But I don't because I know she wouldn't appreciate it. Somehow, I manage to keep my fist clenched tightly enough to calm my voice down. "And you can't do anything about that?"
"Honestly, Tom, I don't want to go back to my parents. Not ever again..." Beads of water drip from her eyes and I'm just so sick of seeing her cry. So sick of it.
He nods thoughtfully. "We already have a plan for that. Once the police take Rodney into custody, they'll see if they can force any other confessions out of him about abuse or any other idea that might give them probable cause to search the compound or arrest your parents. They're doing the same thing will all the Shepherds and adults at Havenwood; because they were sister communities, perhaps someone knows something about abuse there. And lastly, we can always try to get you legally emancipated from your parents or declared a ward of the state if none of those work. But don't worry; we'll do everything in our power to keep you both safe. Which is why I suggested adoption. That way, you won't be separated and you'll have a secure financial and familial background to support you."
"I like that one," I say with certainty.
Tom hesitates, like he's afraid to tell us something.
"Tom," I begin with a twinkle in my eye, "after all of this shit, you don't think I can handle what I'm about to tell you?"
"Yes, yes, of course. But girls... it's just so hard for teenagers to get adopted to begin with, and you girls come from a difficult situation as well. Plus, once people learn about the nature of your relationship, they might not be as interested in adopting you."
"I'll do it." This sentiment comes from Margaret, who looks almost as shocked as the rest of us at her declaration.
But the surprise doesn't faze Mitchie for more than a second, as her face cracks into one of the widest smiles I've ever seen. And to be honest, I'm fairly sure mine does something similar. "Really, Margaret?" Her eyes silently plead with Margaret, her face frozen in the most adorable look of joy. There is no way in hell Margaret could possibly say no.
"I can't promise anything, but right now, I'm definitely interested," Margaret says. "Y'all are such wonderful girls, and I can't let this system screw you over. No offense, Tom."
He puts his hands up in the air, a mock defeated look crossing his face. "None taken. We all know the system is flawed. But, you know, it's the government. It's often flawed."
My mouth about drops open as he utters this statement. But it makes me beyond enthused to hear him be able to speak his mind like that, about his leaders. "You can just do that? Criticize your leaders without having to be afraid of getting punished?"
"Of course. It's one of the foundations of our country," Tom replies with a smile. "And I can see that you'll be making great use of that."
"Alex is very opinionated," Mitchie agrees, which earns her a slap on the arm from me. "But that's why I love you." Her demeanor turns quite different as she says the last three words, a shift that only someone who can read her body language as well as I can would be able to detect. I see the seriousness in her statement, the depth of meaning behind those words. We've only said it a couple of times to each other, so the feeling is that we need to reassure the other that it still rings true. Or at least that's my feeling, especially since I tend to not share my feelings at all.
A knock on the door interrupts our conversation. It's one of the interns who showed us in earlier. He was very giddy and kind of way too excited when that happened. "Excuse me, Tom, but there's a boy who wants to see Alex."
"Who?" Tom asks pleasantly, but I already know the answer. Through some twisted sibling bond, I can sense his presence like a dead weight in my stomach.
The intern awkwardly twiddles his thumbs, clearly having heard the previous exchange. "It's her brother. Justin."
"I don't want to see him." I react on instinct, heart hammering in my chest and reducing my rib cage to nothing more than bits of broken, jagged bone piercing me, stabbing. Mitchie knows that this is not her battle, but that doesn't stop her from cautiously placing her arm on my shoulders. Surprising even myself, I allow my head to come to a gentle rest on her shoulder, just in the crook of her neck. She smells like strawberries and apples mixed together, like summertime.
The intern nods gracefully. "I'll tell him that, then. There is also another young man who wishes to speak with one or both of you- does the name Nate Grey mean anything to you?"
If Mitchie's grip hadn't tightened, I would've run out of there and pummeled him until he begged for the forgiveness for all that he did, for all that he tried to do. "He's a sick little bastard."
Wincing slightly at my language, the intern then said, "Well, I take it you don't want to see him."
"Actually... that could be rather interesting." The devilish smile is on my face before my brain can catch up, my feet marching toward the entrance of the cubicle before I hear Mitchie warning me not to go. But this is someone I need to set straight. He's Nate, and he needs to understand why I can't be with him. More importantly, he needs to understand his new position in the world. And I'll be the one to tell him that.
The baffled intern leads me over to a table: Nate on one side, a chair for me on the other, and what I would assume to be a mediator at the head. The intern turns to go and the mediator begins the conversation. "Alex, Nate, it is so lovely that you two are willing to work out your differences."
"Oh, believe me, I don't want to work anything out," I grumble, attempting to quell the hatred and bile rising from my chest.
The mediator blinks her eyes at me a couple of times before plowing on as though I said nothing. "Now- no swearing, and nothing violent. Use your words, not your fists." She looks directly at me as she says this, clearly believing that I'll be the probably. Which I totally will be.
"Can I start?" I just want to say what I have to say and get the fuck out of here.
She's kind of shocked by my enthusiasm. "Er, sure. Alex, you have the floor."
Nate's got his usual expressionless mask on, but I can almost see it twitching in fear as I allow my eyes to bore directly into his. "Remember when you asked me who could give me what I needed?"
"Selfishly, you said yourself," he snorts out. This kind of amuses me.
"Wow. Guess you're over me, then?"
"You disgraced and destroyed Havenwood and our way of living. How can you even begin to ask that?"
I laugh. "Please. I was disgracing that shi- I mean horrible place- long before this. But I just wanted to let you know that I have found someone to give me what I need."
He's not engaged; he's trying to keep his distance to keep his cool. "And who's that?"
"Mitchie."
"She's a girl." No change of expression.
"And?"
"You're still going to need someone to marry." Of course. He doesn't really get it.
"I love her, Nate."
His head spins on the inside, and nearly on the outside as well. The meaning those words held back at Havenwood is the meaning stuck in his mind, the meaning that's making it look as though his rage and confusion will cause him to fold up in upon himself, leaving just a shell. "She's a girl."
"And?"
"She's a girl, Alex! A girl! You can't possibly be happy like that!" I see that I'm shattering his world view, and I like it.
Leaning in as close as possible, I say to him, "You know why I told you this, Nate? Because it makes me happy. And there are other kids in this group who have the same feelings or who would otherwise be better off away from that hellhole. And I am just waiting for the day when you come and find me, and tell me that you're happy, too."
With that, I get up from the table, knowing that I just asked him to do the impossible: to be happy. And it will destroy him to know that he'll never reach it.
