“It’s cold, where’s your jacket?” my oldest foster sister Lindsey asks, ready to scold me for forgetting it. She’s a senior this year but has always acted like my mother.
“Left it at school.” I curl up against the door of the car and hope she doesn’t catch the lie. When I look down at my khakis I inwardly groan because I hate this uniform. I guess it’s better than wearing my own clothes and the guys at school making jokes because I don’t have the right labels.
“You know you’re not getting a new one if you lost it.” Amber, my other foster sister, who is two years older than me, crosses her arms and purses her lips in challenge. Her twin sister Allison is sitting in the front seat and turns around to do the same thing.
“Gina already said we’re skint until the third, so you better find it,” Allison chimes in, not wanting to be left out of the dog pile.
Gina is our foster mom, and she does the bare minimum to keep the state happy. Which basically means she keeps us alive and out of trouble. Although, if it were just my three older sisters in charge, the same would happen. Their favorite pastime is telling me what to do, but I’m used to it and don’t really fight them on it.
“You’ll bring it home today, right?” Lindsey asks from the driver's seat, her eyes on me in the rearview mirror. I nod, and she lets the subject drop. “I’m dropping off Darian first.”
Amber and Allison begin to complain, but Lindsey talks over them. No matter what, we all fall in line when Lindsey speaks. She might not be the mom, but she’s in charge. I used to think it’s because she doesn’t abuse her power, but the older I got, the more I found out about her past and the shitty foster homes she’d been in before Gina. Lindsey knew what it was like out there in other situations, and although Gina is only in it for a check, it’s better than the alternative.
“Your fancy-ass school doesn’t send a Rolls around to pick you up?” Amber sneers.
“Only for field trips,” I answer back, taking the bait.
“Enough,” Lindsey says, and Amber sticks her tongue out at me.
“Just because you're so smart doesn’t mean you’re better than us.” Allison’s comment makes the car go quiet, and my eyes meet Lindsey’s again in the rearview.
Lindsey filled out my application for Kingswood Prep without me knowing. She saw my grades in elementary school and asked one of my old teachers to give me an IQ test. She didn’t tell me or Gina about it until I got in because she needed a car. The school didn’t offer transportation or have buses, and Gina wasn’t about to get out of bed before noon to take me anywhere. Lindsey agreed to take me and the twins to school and do all the errands Gina didn’t want to if she could have enough cash to buy an old car. I don’t know how she got Gina to agree, but Lindsey went to the junkyard that weekend and came home with the rusted beater we call the green beast. It’s a real piece of shit, but with it comes freedom, and I realized right away that’s what I wanted.
My thoughts drift to Rosy and her wearing my coat to the office yesterday. She never came back after that, because I didn’t see her the rest of the day. I warned Mindy within an inch of her life if she breathed a word of it, I would make her sorry.
As far as I know it hasn't gotten out, because that’s the kind of gossip that would spread like wildfire. I look to the front seat to where Lindsey is passing a tampon to Amber, and maybe I’m just desensitized, but who gives a shit?
Rosy was so grateful, but I meant what I said about taking care of her. I don’t know how because I have nothing, but I plan on keeping my word. There’s something special about her, something that hasn’t seen the dark side of the world or been around enough assholes to darken her shine. She’s pure and sweet, and I don’t want anyone taking that away.
“I’ll be back at four thirty,” Lindsey says as she turns the green beast into the parking lot, and right away, heads are turning.
I ignore it just like I did the day before, because I’m using this school as much as they’re using me. Kids with test scores as high as mine make them look good, and this school is my ticket to college. If all I have to do is endure comments about being poor during my time here, then so be it. They wouldn’t be wrong; we are poor.
Lindsey pulls up in the student parking lot, and Amber rolls the window down as students walk by and turn their heads in our direction.
“These rich boys know how to eat pussy?” she asks loudly to the passing group of jocks as she makes a V with her fingers and runs her tongue between them.
“They’re too busy counting their money. Give me a bad boy from the west side who likes ass,” Allison says, and she and her twin high-five.
“Watch your back, Darian,” Lindsey says quietly as she raises her chin in the mirror, and I get out of the car.
“Go be smart,” Allison calls out in her Boston accent as the green beast drives away, leaving a trail of smoke behind it.
As I walk across the lot I hear my name called, and I turn around to see Rosy. Her red hair is braided over one shoulder, and she’s bundled up in a tan jacket with fur around the collar. She’s so perfect she looks like she belongs in a movie. I feel my smile match hers as I walk in her direction and meet her halfway.
“Hey, I wanted to catch you before class.” She holds out my coat. “I’m sorry I couldn’t replace it, but I had it cleaned last night.”
“This is great, thanks.” She probably couldn’t replace it because she doesn’t shop at Goodwill. But it smells clean and like vanilla, which reminds me of her. I pull it on quickly and then walk in step with her. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah, thanks to you.” She looks down at her feet, but I can see the blush in her cheeks.
“You’re in band?” I ask as I point down at the small case she’s carrying. I can tell she’s eager to change the subject, and I don’t mind.
“Oh, yeah, I play the flute.” She holds it up like I can see through the case.
“Me too.” Her eyes land on mine, and I shrug. “I mean not flute, but I’m in band. I play percussion, but I’m terrible.” She smiles so big this time I can see her braces. She must realize it the same time I do because she hides them and looks ahead. “I’ve got it first today. You?”
“Me too.” She bites her bottom lip as we walk up the hill and into the band auditorium.
Kingswood Prep requires its scholarship students to have an extracurricular activity. When Lindsey signed me up for band I could have killed her, but now I’m thinking I should thank her. She said guys who played the drums were cool, and I didn’t need to get my expensive brain knocked around on a field with a bunch of assholes.
“Will you sit by me?” Rosy asks as we enter the music room.
“Every chance I get.”
When I look at her I try and think if I’ve ever felt this good before, and I can’t recall a moment that felt so nice. Just having my eyes on her makes all the pain go away, and it feels like it’s going to be all right.