“You need to be quiet,” I whisper, steadying Chase’s elbow while he clears the windowsill with his leg.
“Dammit, Hales, you’re pinching me!”
“Sorry,” I murmur, loosening my grip and helping him land his other leg on the worn carpet that still looks a hundred times better than the carpet I’m used to. The fact that I actually have my own room is another bonus. Of course, the biggest bonus of all is that unfamiliar tightness in my stomach, telling me I can’t eat another bite, despite desperately wanting to.
“Not bad,” Chase says, casing my new bedroom. “The TV’s kind of old, but I could get a few bucks for it.”
“You’re not stealing from my new foster mom,” I say. “I’ve been here less than three hours, and I already kind of like her.”
“You liked the last one, too.”
“And you ruined that for me.”
“I didn’t ruin nothing,” he says, pulling a plastic bag out of his pocket. “I got us a half zip.”
I frown at what the bag contains. It’s not for us—it’s for him. “You’re not smoking that here.”
“Shit, Hales, what’s up your ass tonight?”
“I’ve spent the last three nights in three different houses!” First was my mom’s, then Mr. and Mrs. Garner’s, and now Ms. Jacobson’s.
He rolls his eyes and then plops himself on the bed. Before I can join him, his shirt is off and his pants are unzipped, making it clear what we’ll be doing if I don’t let him get blazed. My eyes drift up from the plaid boxers peeking out between his fly to his long, bony arms, and then to his face. He’s got a sharp brow and jawline and sunken cheeks. It’s from not eating enough, and I know I’d look the same if I glanced in a mirror. I suddenly feel guilty for not sneaking anything from dinner for him.
“Come on,” he says, shimmying out of his jeans.
I sit on the edge of the bed and allow him to wrap his arms around me. I’m exhausted, but it feels nice to be close to him. Sighing, I lay my head on his chest like usual, clinging to something familiar when everything else has been turned upside down.
After not even a minute, he lifts my skirt and slides down my underwear. Stifling a yawn, I slip my fingers under the waistband of his boxers and ease them over his hips. When they’re only at his knees, he flips himself on top of me. I focus on the strip of light under my door. Ms. Jacobson made it clear I could not have boys in my room. I waited to call Chase on her phone until I was pretty sure she had fallen asleep, though. As long as we’re quiet, I doubt she’ll ever find out.
“I need this right now,” Chase says, his eyes closed, his hands roaming under my shirt and up my body.
“Hmmm…,” I murmur, as I continue to focus on the light in the hallway.
Without warning, he rocks into me hard and the headboard slams against the wall. “Chase!” I yell in a whisper, ignoring the pain.
“Baby…,” he moans.
I mimic his moaning and try to move things along quickly, but he becomes unusually slow and gentle. I grip his rear end harder and urge him to speed things up.
“You want it rough?” he asks, pinning my arms to the mattress.
Without waiting for an answer, he picks up his intensity. Moments later, the headboard bangs again, and I know I need to end this immediately. “Now,” I say.
“Almost…”
“Come on, baby. Now,” I urge.
Just then, I hear a click and the strip of light becomes a flood. Chase, naked, is still on top of me with my skirt around my waist. Ms. Jacobson is in the doorway holding her hand to her mouth.
For a brief moment, no one moves. Then Ms. Jacobson turns around. I push Chase off me, throw him a blanket, and yank down my skirt.
“I’m sorry,” I yell to her back. “I didn’t mean to! I promise I won’t do it again!”
“I’m calling DSS,” she replies, causing my shoulders to slump. The Department of Social Services. Sherry’s going to kill me. “When I get back, he needs to be gone.”
Chase is already dressed and halfway out the window. “Call me when you get settled at your new place,” he says with a wink and a gleam in his eyes. For him, this was an exciting night.
For me, it was another mistake.
A huge mistake.
Moments later, I hear the roar of his recently borrowed motorcycle grow loud and then fade away as he leaves me alone to deal with the mess.
* * *
“Hailey Marie Brown, what am I going to do with you?” Sherry asks, shaking her head. She’s my social worker and was not at all happy about being woken up in the middle of the night to remove me from another foster home.
I stare at the dotted yellow lines in the road so I don’t have to see any more disappointment on her face as we travel through rural North Carolina. I’ve known Sherry for a couple years but haven’t had to deal with this look from her until the past two days. She gave me what I wanted—a place to stay far away from my mom—but it seems all I can do is mess things up.
“Chase is a negative relationship. You need to start building positive relationships,” she says.
“He’s all I have,” I mumble.
“You have me.”
“It’s not the same.” Chase made me feel loved when no one else did. He came into my life when I needed him the most. I mean, when the options are a screaming, drunk mom threatening to lock you out of her house or a guy who welcomes you into his home and can’t get enough of you, the choice is pretty easy. Sure, he’s not perfect, but who is?
We’re quiet the rest of the way to DSS. In fact, she doesn’t say anything until she’s given me one of their prefilled hygiene packs, I’ve washed my face and brushed my teeth, and I’ve settled onto a sofa in the children’s playroom. She’s lying on another sofa in the same room with her eyes closed. I think she’s asleep until she asks, “Are you still taking your birth control?”
“No,” I reply, wishing I had remembered to grab it from the trailer when I left. It was just so hectic with Sherry there and my mom screaming at her and me trying to throw a few things into a backpack.
“Did he use a condom?”
“No,” I say again, readying myself for a lecture. Instead, I’m met by more silence.
“You should go home,” I say. “I’ll be fine here by myself.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“Won’t Jared miss you?” Jared is her boyfriend. I’ve only met him once but liked him immediately. He’s a second-grade teacher and adores Sherry. I could tell by the way he constantly touched her arm or guided her through a door with his hand at her back. I can’t imagine Chase ever treating me like that. The closest I’ve ever gotten is when he put his arm around my shoulders during a pep rally at school. Of course, that could have been to keep himself steady since he was also trashed that day.
“Jared knows this comes with the territory,” Sherry says, and then rolls over to face the back of the sofa. I take the hint and close my eyes, praying tomorrow will be a better day.