I slept on the couch last night. I just couldn't get used to being in a bed that big. I look around and take in my surroundings again. It still hasn't sunk in that this is actually my room. It is too fancy compared to what I am used to.

I get up and walk over to the large bay window. The sun still isn't up yet. I can tell this is going to be a long day.

After staring out the window for a while I decide to take a shower and get ready for the day. It probably won't be long before the Michaelsons come calling for me anyway.

I grab my backpack and pull out my essentials. You know, the usual, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, tooth brush, tooth paste, hair brush. Then I open my duffel bag and dig around for some clothes. I don't have much, just a couple pairs of jeggings and a few tops. I decide to go with my army green jeggings and a black v-neck tank. I don't like baggy clothes, they restrict my movements.

I take a quick shower and get dressed. I look at myself in the mirror. I have emerald green eyes with just a little grey around the edges, it almost looks silver when reflected in the moon light. Auburn hair that falls in waves just past my shoulders. I have strong cheek and jaw bones but not in a masculine way. I think it really suits my strong and assertive personality. My nose is straight as an arrow and flares slightly at the nostrils. But my favorite feature is my lips. They are rosy and plump, even without any make up.

This is the face that everyone hates. Though I must say that I actually like it. I am a very self-confident person, it is everyone else that I have no confidence in.

I hear a knock on the door that interrupts my thoughts. I walk back into the bedroom and notice the sun light filtering through the curtains. This must be the morning wake up call.

I open the door and am greeted by a girl around my age. She resembles Mrs. Michaelson but has Mr. Michaelson's eyes.

"Oh my gosh! You must be Paisley!!!" she squeals in delight as she rushes in and pounces on me.

I take a couple steps back to steady myself, I was completely unprepared for that. I don't know what to do with someone this excitable.

After she gets done hugging me she grabs my hand and pulls me out of the bedroom and down the corridor toward the kitchen. Everyone is there waiting for us. There are a lot more people than I had imagined. I only met Mr. and Mrs. Michaelson yesterday so I have no idea who all these other people are.

Mr. and Mrs. Michaelson laugh when they see me being pulled around by this bubbly girl. I still don't know her name. Maybe I should just call her Bubbles?

" Alright, you can let her go now," says Mrs. Michaelson as her laughter subsides.

"Aww but Mom! Do I have to? I want to keep her. I know we'll be the best of friends!" Bubbles complains.

"You heard your mother, young lady," replies Mr. Michaelson. "Have a seat and join us for breakfast."

"Yes, Dad," Bubbles replied dejectedly as she released my hand and took a seat.

Mr, Michaelson nods toward the only empty chair left, right in the middle of the table between two older boys that look like twins. They both have wavy, shaggy sandy blonde hair, sky blue eyes, tanned skin and athletic figures.

I can feel everyone watching me while I walk to my seat. It is a little unnerving but I try my best to ignore it as I take my seat.

"Alright! Everyone dig in!" says Mr. Michaelsons.

I have to admit, these guys really know how to do breakfast. It is basically a feast of just about any kind of breakfast food you can imagine. On one side there is porridge, oatmeal, grits, fruits and berries of all shapes and sizes, biscuits, crepes, pankcakes and waffles. In the middle were condiments; syrup, whipped cream in a can, sugar, gravy, milk, and honey. Then at the other end are the meats; bacon, sausage patties, sausage links, ham, and I think I even saw some steak in there.

As I watched everyone else dig in and fill their plates I figured I might as well too. No point in being shy, especially with this kind of delicious spread in front of you.

I stuffed myself until my stomach started screaming at me to stop. I can't remember the last time I ate so much at one sitting. And the flavor! I have never had food that tasted quite this good. Someone is one hell of a cook!

After breakfast is finished, I offer to help with the clean up but am rushed outside instead.

"Are you ready?" asked Bubbles.

"Ready for what?" I respond.

"Shopping of course, silly!" she squeals in delight.

"Uh, ok. I guess," I reply. "But, um, one problem. I don't have any money." I look at the ground while saying this. It is a bit embarrassing. Being a foster kid really sucks.

"Oh, don't worry about that," another voice comes from behind us. I turn to see Mrs. Michaelson and another one of the girls from breakfast, along with the twins.

"We will get you whatever you need," Mrs. Michaelson says with a smile.

I wasn't expecting that. Most foster parents just do the bare minimum for the foster kids. At least that has been my experience so far anyway.

After a few pleasantries, the six of us load into the truck. Its actually pretty nice. Shiny black Dodge Ram 1500 with chrome wheels and grill. Somehow I end up getting stuck between the twins. Mrs. Michaelson is driving and Bubbles and the other girl are up front with her. Surprisingly it isn't as cramped as I thought it would be considering we are all basically grown.

Mrs. Michaelson keeps looking back at me in the back seat as she drives. It is a bit uncomfortable, almost like she is waiting for me to do something, I'm just not sure what.

Bubbles just keeps talking, not leaving anyone else a chance to get a word in. The other girl just stares out her window. At least someone has learned the art of tuning out the constant chatter.

The twins try to keep their distance, given the confines of the truck. I think they are trying to prevent making me uncomfortable, which I greatly appreciate.

And this is how we make our way to the mall over in the next town.