chapter 4

I finally decide to take my little bag of calories and fat and head down to the river bank where I can sit behind a tree and hide while I eat and try to figure out what to do or where to go next. Problem is, I barely even know where this stupid town is, let alone how to get out of it and back into something that looks like a real city.

Cities are so much cooler than these nerdy little towns. My last pseudohome was in a huge city. The school there is bigger than this whole town. Easier to hide in. Lots to do at night there, too. Always something going on and someone to hang with if you wanted to. It totally sucks that just because the police there were always picking on us fostergirls, I end up in juvie court and then dumped in this pathetic excuse for a town in an even more pathetic excuse for a “home.”

If I try to leave, my social witch and probation officer will form their own street gang and try to find me. If they find me, the next stop will be a locked facility. At least, that’s the threat if I mess up again. That’s what they told me in court. Break probation, and they’ll throw away the key.

Is refusing to read and kicking a book messing up in their world? Is a suspension considered breaking probation? Would my PO be PO’d enough to decide I’m too much trouble for the precious little group home?

My head is starting to hurt with all the thinking. I hate thinking. All of the thoughts get messed around and twist each other up until I have no idea what’s in my head. I just want to close my eyes and shut off my brain at the same time. It’s the same thing that happens when they try to get me to read all of that garbage in school. It all twists itself around until I can’t figure out what I’m even looking at. Stupid Sadie.

I close my eyes and try to shut off my brain. I guess it works, because I kind of drift off to sleep.

“Ohmygod! There you are. I can’t believe I found you. I looked everywhere in town, except here of course, but then I looked here and there you were. Or here you are. Whatever, I’m so glad I looked here. I heard what happened. I feel so badly for you. Wilson is so totally mean. I had him last year in grade nine and he is such a pighead that when my mother saw that I was supposed to have him again this year for grade ten she told the school that I have to be switched to another section, which is why I don’t have English this term. Can I have a chip?”

My eyes fly open and my ears start ringing. Rhiannon flops down beside me and looks hopefully at my almost empty chip bag. I haven’t even started to wake up yet or figure out what she’s babbling about, but I catch the last word and figure she’s asking for food. I hand her the bag.

“Finish it.”

“Thanks! I’m starving. School always has that effect on me. I eat like a pig. I don’t know how the skinny girls who are always on diets do it. I would just pass out from hunger, I think. I mean, I’m not skinny but I’m not fat either so I guess I’m lucky. Mom says I have a fortunate metabolism but that I might have a problem after menopause but since I’m like fifty years away from that, I guess I can eat chips in the meantime. Are you OK?”

“What? Oh, yeah, I guess.” I kind of drifted off again while she was talking and almost missed the question.

“Everyone says he was being mean to you and that you were so tough and cool. I talked to Ms. Jackson about it, you know, the smart one, and she said she couldn’t really discuss another student with me but that you should come and see her tomorrow when you get to school. You should do it, too, because she’s really supportive and helpful compared to most of them. She’ll help you deal with Wilson.”

“I doubt I’m going to school tomorrow.”

“Why, are you sick? Too much candy? I got totally sick one time at Halloween when I ate my whole bag of candy in one night. I don’t even know why I did it. I knew better but I did it anyway. Man, I threw up chocolate and candy kisses for hours. It was so gross. Mom told me it served me right but she still gave me ginger ale and orange Popsicles, which are the things that I always have when I don’t feel well. You might be OK by tomorrow though, even if you feel like crap right now.” She puts her hand on my forehead for some bizarre reason and I move back. I don’t think she’s trying to hurt me or anything. I just don’t like being touched. Ever. By anyone.

“It’s OK. I’m just checking to see if you have a temperature. My mom does it by kissing our foreheads, even at my age, but I figured that was inappropriate! Anyway, I thought maybe it isn’t the junk food but that maybe you have the flu or something because I heard that like twelve kids in our year missed the second day of school because they were all sick.”

“I’m not sick. I’m suspended,” I tell her, standing up and hoping she’ll get the hint that I want her to go away.

“Oh, I didn’t know that. Well, I don’t know if that means you won’t be at school because our school usually does in-school suspensions unless the suspension is from violent behavior and I don’t think kicking a book counts. If you had kicked Wilson you might have to stay home. Would it be a bad thing if I told you I wish you had kicked Wilson?”

A laugh flies out of my mouth before I can control it.

“I kind of wish I’d kicked him too.”

“Actually, I’m glad you didn’t because then you would be staying home tomorrow and that would suck. Our school’s not so bad when you get used to it. Anyway, are you going home? I’ll walk with you. We live like three streets over from MacAvoy House so it’s not even out of my way. That’s why I run into you sometimes in the morning. Actually, we could walk to school together most days if I could get myself out of the house on time!”

I look at her standing there all smiley, acting like it’s normal that I live in a place called MacAvoy House that doesn’t have anything remotely resembling a family in it. She probably lives in a big green-and-white house with a picket fence and daisies in the garden, with a mother in the kitchen baking pies.

And now she wants to walk to school with me every day. My plan was to walk to school by myself. That’s always my plan. Alisha and Buffy go to my school, but we would never be caught dead walking together. We avoid each other as much as possible outside the group home. It’s bad enough we have to live together. We don’t need to hang out together. Don’t need to draw attention to the whole grouphomegirl deal. Doesn’t do much for the rep. Then again, I’m pretty sure walking around with Rhiannon isn’t going to help my reputation much either.

“So, are we going?” she asks, starting to walk up the bank toward the road. I hadn’t really decided what I was going to do yet, but it looks like she kind of decided for me. I can’t really think of anything else to do inside the convoluted mess in my head, so I just follow her like the good little Heinz-57 mutt that I am.

She babbles away at me the whole way home. I’m not really listening, because I’m trying to imagine what level of trouble I’m going to be in. The answer hits me as soon as we get to the top of “my” street. Cecilia’s car is parked in the driveway. The group home staff must be pretty excited to have called my social witch. I wonder if my PO is there too. Haven’t seen him for a while. It’ll be like a family reunion. My first one.

Rhiannon kind of waves to me and drifts off down the sidewalk, still talking to herself, which is probably an improvement over talking to me, and I go inside to face the music. Which is kind of a dumb expression when you think of it, because I like music, so facing it should be a good thing. I shake my head to clear it. That Rhiannon must be warping what’s left of my brain with all those words.

Cecilia’s sitting on the couch in the so-called living room, talking to Sandi. Buffy walks by and smirks at me. I ignore her so that I won’t have to hurt her in front of the two women who could seriously mess up my already messed-up life. Alisha walks by the doorway and actually gives me a kind of sympathetic look. I think.

“Hello, Sadie. Come on in and sit down.” Cecilia pats the couch beside her. I sit in the chair. Sandi and Cecilia looked at each other in that way that adults do when they think we don’t know they’re mocking us.

“I’ll leave you ladies to it,” Sandi says. “Sadie, we’ll talk after supper.” Supper? I try not to moan at the thought. I told Rhiannon that I’m not sick, but ten bucks buys enough junk food that I don’t want to eat again anytime soon.

“So.” Cecilia looks at me with that “tell me all about it” look that never works on me. She isn’t too swift.

“So what?” I answer like a bratty six-year-old. Cecilia brings that out in me.

“So,” she kind of sighs. Poor baby. “Tell me about what happened today in school.”

“Teacher pissed me off. He’s a jerk. I lost my temper.”

“We’ve talked about this, Sadie. You can do better. You have to do better this time. I’m running out of placements.”

“Yeah, I know. Next stop, lock up.”

“It’s not quite that simple. If you violate the terms of your probation, a judge would have to decide the consequences, not me. According to your principal, you’re getting an in-school suspension this time, which doesn’t need to be reported to the probation officer because technically you are still at school. But an out-of-school suspension would have been a different story, and, from what I hear, you were pretty close to the line. I don’t want you stepping over it. You don’t want to end up in the juvenile justice system, Sadie. The group home is a good placement for you, and I don’t want the staff to decide that you aren’t trying to make it work. Placements are few and far between for girls your age. There aren’t many group homes in this region. I don’t want you to have to move so far away that you have to start over with a new agency and new worker.”

“I’m almost sixteen. I just need to hang in until I can get out.”

“We’ve been over this, too. You should stay in care until at least eighteen. You can have extended care past that also. Sixteen is too young.”

“Says you.”

“Well, after today’s performance, I won’t be the only one saying it.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. It won’t happen again. I’ll handle it.”

“Like you did today?”

“I said, I’ll handle it.”

“We need to problem solve this so you know what you’re going to do next time there’s an issue.”

Problem solve. Every friggin’ adult in our lives wants us to problem solve. They create all of the problems, and then they want us to solve them. What exactly does that leave the social workers and the teachers and the group home workers doing? Sitting around watching us do their work for them? Maybe I should grow up and be a social worker so I don’t have to do any work. I can sit around and tell other people to solve their own problems.

“Sadie?” Cecilia leans forward and puts her hand toward me as if to touch me. I push back against the chair, and she seems to get the message.

“There’s this guidance lady at the school. A friend of mine told me I could talk to her.” It’s a flash of genius. Thanks to Rhiannon, who isn’t exactly my friend.

“All right!” She sounds excited. I should feel guilty, but I don’t. “A friend. Great! A guidance counselor. Even better! That sounds like a positive first step. You can speak with her tomorrow during your suspension. You’ll be spending the day in guidance anyway, so you can fit in some talking as well.” She stood up to go, seeming pleased that we have the problem solved. I stay sitting until she leaves and then go up to my room, hoping that Charming Charlene isn’t there.

I catch a break for the first time today, and the room is empty. I sit down on “my” bed and close my eyes. I hate this place.

“Crappy day?” I open my eyes. Big Alisha’s leaning against the doorframe, arms folded. I bet teachers don’t mess much with her. She looks like she could drop kick Wilson from here to wherever the next pathetic little town is.

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Word gets around. Wilson’s a prime number-one jerk. I have better names for him, but I can’t say them because Buffy is sniffing around trying to get people in trouble. You have to watch out for her.”

“Yeah, well, my day started out with her trying to throw me down the stairs at school.”

“Hah, bet you knocked her on her butt instead.” She laughs. I don’t.

“What’s her problem, anyway?”

“She’s one of those depressed maniacs. I have other names for her too, but I’ll tell you later.”

“Depressed maniacs?”

“Yeah, you know, nuts. One minute she’s all lovey-dovey and trying to look after everyone, and the next she’s running around trying to kill you.”

“I’ve never seen her acting lovey or dovey.” Why am I still talking?

“She mostly does it with the Ks. Thinks she’s their momma or something. She likes kids who are younger or weaker than her or whatever. Probably makes her feel big and special. She hates me ’cause I’m just so much better than her. Probably hates you now, too.” She smiles like she’s complimenting me.

“She says I don’t know the rules. You know the rules?”

“Only rule I know is you look out for yourself and don’t listen to anyone else.”

“Sounds like a good rule.”

“Yeah. Not sure what Buffy’s rules are. I don’t listen to her much. Too much of a headcase.”

“I don’t have time for headcases. My life is messed up enough.”

“Mine too. I’m here, aren’t I? Not exactly a place where they put you as a reward for good behavior.” She laughs at herself again. This time I kind of laugh, too.

“You been here long?”

“Forever. Six months.”

“Sounds like forever. I don’t want to stay that long.”

“You got family to go back to?”

“No, you?”

“Mother. She’s drying out. For about the millionth time. They keep taking me away even though I’m old enough to handle her. I’m old enough to deal.”

“Know what you mean. I’m trying to get early-out.”

“You sixteen?”

“Almost.”

“What’ll you do?”

“Get a job. Apartment. You know.”

“What about school?”

“They say I have to stay until I’m eighteen, but I can make them ask me to leave before then. Except I need to keep it clean until I’m out of care. Which means sucking it up in Wilson’s class.” I close my eyes at the thought. I’m not going to read out loud to him or anyone. I have to find a way around it that won’t get me in any more trouble…at least for a few months. Once I’m out, I’ll come back and kick some butt. Then they’ll kick my butt out the door and I can get on with my life.

“Well, good luck with that. Gotta go. See ya around.”

“Yeah.” I kind of wave and flop down on my bed. This is not going to be fun.

I make it through the rest of the day without having to talk about Wilson too much more. I guess Cecilia showing up on the scene made Sandi figure she’s redundant so she left me alone. Anyway, I stay in my room all night, so I don’t run into anyone else who might have an opinion about my life. Charlene comes back but doesn’t bother to talk to me. Guess she can’t find anything to complain about. She also doesn’t seem to care about my day, which is fine because I don’t care about hers, either. Makes the room nice and quiet.

I have a bad feeling that life around here isn’t going to be quiet very often.