Second chapter is now up! Please let me know what you think of the story so if I know whether it is worth continuing and how often I need to be updating! I am absolutely loving writing this story though.

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Chapter 2: Day One of the Rest of My Life

Dinner was good. If Emma was being honest, it was fantastic, but she would not admit that. It was the first real meal she had eaten in awhile, so maybe she had forgotten what real food tasted like. Emma could not remember the last time she had gotten to eat a home cooked meal. Certainly had not been at the last foster home she had lived in.

Mrs. Abernathy seemed delighted to get to care for another child. She spoiled Emma on her first day, letting her eat anything and even letting her use the T.V., something most foster parents had never even let her touch. Her older son was not expected to come home until later, so the older woman devoted all of her attention and energy onto Emma. Emma was not used to any type of positive attention and was not quite sure how to respond to it. The woman could pick up on her nervousness and was slow with her, not pushing her to talk to much and not asking any really personal questions.

The dinner table was a new experience too. Most of her previous foster homes had not cares where you ate, or if you are at all. Some of her homes had encouraged eating together at the table as a family, but she was not family. One set of parents, Bill and Katie, had treated her just like they treated their own two kids, Max and Zach. At that house, they enjoyed family dinners almost every night. That was until Lily reappeared in her life and she got sent back into the system.

The open and close of the front door startled Emma. She relaxed when she remembered that Mrs. Abernathy had another foster child. A teenage boy, probably about sixteen, making him two years older that Emma, walking into the kitchen to greet Mrs. Abernathy. He had dark, thick hair with piercing blue eyes and a clean face. He was tall and built well, looking possibly like an athlete, but he was not large.

"Emma, this is Killian Jones. Killian, this is you new foster sister, Emma Swan." The introduction the older woman gave them sounded more like introducing a young child to their newborn sibling rather than two teenage foster children who would only be with each other for a few months while they living in the same home.

"Swan." He repeated, getting a taste for the word. "It's a pleasure." Emma tried to hold back a laugh. No one talked like that. Killian also possessed an accent. It did not sound British. Irish, maybe.

Emma nodded and managed to whisper, "Nice to meet you," while poking at the peas on her plate. She hated the vegetable, but would never turn down food. Not when it could easily become a rarity again.

Mrs. Abernathy set a plate out for Killian and he joined them at the table. She asked him about his day at school, how practice was. So he is an athlete, Emma thought to herself. Neither one of them made Emma feel like an intruder, and at the same time they did not make her feel odd because she did not know them. They acted like she had always been there.

The phone rang and Mrs. Abernathy excused herself to go and answer it. Emma focused her attention on her food rather than the boy sitting across from her. The shoveled a fork full of peas into her mouth and promptly grabbed her water to drown out the bad taste.

"Those peas aren't going anywhere." Killian broke their silence to tease her. "No need to rush."

"I'm not really a fan of peas, but when you haven't eaten in a while, you get hungry." She commented before taking another big bite.

"Of course." He said, leaning back from the table a bit. "So, Emma, how old are you?"

Emma eyed him suspiciously. He seemed to genuinely care, but most of the guys she had met wanted something from her. Something she was not willing to give. But if she was going to live in the same house as this guy for a few weeks, he would find out eventually.

"Fourteen." She told him in between bites. "You?"

"Sixteen."Killian answered.

"How long you been here?" Emma asked vaguely, but she knew he would understand.

"Five months. Six next week."

Emma set down her fork. "You getting worried that you are on borrowed time? Six months is a long time to be in one place."

"If you are asking if I am worried that she will send me back, the answer is no." Killian said curtly. "She is unlike most of the parents I have. She has full intentions of keeping me until I age out."

Sure she does Emma thought to herself, but decided it was best not to say it out loud. For some strange reason, this guy had some hope as to why she would keep him. Whatever it was, his reasons were his own and they helped him sleep at night.

"You know, Swan." He continued. "It would not be bad if you learned how to trust. You shall be here for a while and it would help you out in the long run."

"What makes you think I will be here for a while?"

"She won't send you back,lass." He told her as if it were obvious.

"She doesn't know me. Give her some time." Emma muttered, picking her fork back up to play with her peas.

"I will. And you shall see that I a right. She will not give up on you." The two heard Mrs. Abernathy's footsteps approaching the room and ended their conversation. They both smiled at the older woman as she walked into the kitchen and sat down. Killian promptly stood up and took his and Mrs. Abernathy's plates over to the sink to start washing them. Emma finished her dinner and stood to wash her plate, but Killian came over to her, shaking his head, and took it from her.

"It's your first night." He explained. "There is no need for you to be doing chores-yet." He winked.

Emma did not respond to him, but rather retreated to the living room where Mrs. Abernathy was. They small talked for a bit, switching their attention between each other and the show they were watching. Killian did not join them, but stayed over at the kitchen table, doing homework. Mrs. Abernathy teased him that he never did work at the table, no matter how much she told him he should. Killian just shrugged off the comment and returned to his work.

At one point, Emma excused herself for bed. It was still earlier, but Mrs. Abernathy did not protest her. She had had a long day the older woman rationalized. Emma made her way up the stairs to the room that she would call her own for the next few weeks. She lay on the bed, feeling softness rather than metal springs. Emma just stared at the ceiling, sprawled out on the bed, for what seemed like hours. She heard Mrs. Abernathy, and then Killian, make their way to their rooms for the night. Silence and darkness greeted her. Neither were foreign to her.

Emma continued to stare at the ceiling, thinking about everything and nothing. She wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in the comfy bed, but she fought to stay awake. It's just one night she told herself. She could sleep another time.