"Eat the damn toast, Demetry."
"But it's burnt. I don't like burnt toast, Janet." I argued with my new foster mom.
"It's perfectly fine, Demetry. Eat it and be grateful or you won't eat dinner tonight." She threatened as she fixed Ashley's bib. The little monster had smeared peanut butter and jelly all over it, and the perfect, obsessed, Janet Samone would not tolerate a messy child.
Mike, the nicer half of my foster parents, glided into the room whistling happily.
"Morning."
"Take Demetry to school," Janet demanded. "And make sure she eats her damn toast." She momentarily transformed, giving baby Ashley a sappy smile, cooing over her daughter's ability to eat strawberries in a non-messy fashion. What a talent?
"Oh. And make sure she takes all of her medicine."
I took my meds and looked at Mike. He gestured at me, a sort of let's-get-out-of-here-while-we-still-can motion, and we both exited the kitchen hastily.
It took us several minutes to get out the door. Back in California, I could throw on a jacket and bam you were ready to go. Here there's this strange sort of ritual involved with going outside. Layers upon layers must be applied to brave the outdoors. Mike and I wrapped up until we both looked like giant marshmallows and I wonder if we would first through the doors.
Even with multiple layers, it was still bitterly cold. Luckily the snow had ceased flaking so we only had to worry about wading through ankle-deep snow to get to the truck.
I blinked against the white glare the snow created, listening to the crunching of our footsteps. Pausing at the passenger side of the huge black truck. I struggled to lever myself up so I could climb into the leather interior. The Samone's just bought the truck before they began fostering me, and it was so jacked up, you needed a pole vault just to get in the damn thing.
"Excited about your first day?" Mike grinned at me as the truck roared to life.
"Kinda. I'm nervous though." That was an understatement. Mike and Janet Samone had taken me into their custody and once again no one cared or even asked if I wanted to go. I didn't. It was a hick town, and now I had to be the new kid in the hick town and the new student at the hick school. What if they throw cow patties at me or something?
"It's just two more grades," Mike said. "Even if you don't like it, you'll be graduated before you know it."
I'm not sure if that was meant to be comfortable or not...
At last the truck was defrosted and Mike backed slowly out of the driveway. I was hoping he wouldn't notice how closely I sat to the door. It wasn't that I didn't trust him, I just need to know a person before I can trust them to protect me or touch me. My last foster dad raped me and no one believed me. So you can't really blame me for being so untrusting.
"Excited to be out of the house?" Mike smiled thinly. His eyes were tired, and the frown lines around his mouth seemed to have deepened in the last few years. I couldn't imagine being married to Janet for as long as he has, and I honestly don't understand why he still is. Probably something to do with baby Ashley. I wonder if he ever regretted having her. I know Janet regretted fostering me, after they told her she couldn't get pregnant anymore, and now she has a rebellious, punk adolescent and a baby.
Her words, not mine. I'd heard her talking to her friend long distance last night. The words had stirred something in me. Not sadness, something else. Something fiery. Hatred, I think.
The truck rumbled to a stop in front of a large beige colored building that crouched long and low in drifts of dirty ice, like a shoe box with windows.
"Want me to walk you to the front doors?"
I turned and frowned at Mike. "Lemme guess, you were told I was a flight risk. Well I am. But news flash... where would I go? I don't know anyone. I don't know where I am," I began. "Also this is high school. I'm sixteen, a sophomore. I don't need a babysitter. Just leave me alone."
He hesitated, and said, "okay".
"Bye, Mike." I said and started to open the door.
"Wait, Demi. I have something for you," he said, grabbing a phone out of the dashboard.
"You got me a phone?" I asked excited. But my mood quickly depleted. "What's in it for you?"
"Oh, nothing. Just a well behaved teenager." He said, putting his hand between my thighs.
"Fine. I gotta go."
"Bye, Demitry." He said, removing his hand from my thigh and using it to rub my back, making me feel even more uncomfortable.
"See you at three." I said and watched him drive off.
I turned to the beige shoebox, feeling my stomach sink a little as the truck roared away. The parking lot was half full, seniors that had their own vehicles, I guessed. I couldn't get my license until next year, but now I wasn't so sure if I even wanted it. I had always pictured myself in a convertible, the top down, tunes blasting, the warm wind blowing my black hair back. Now it appeared I would be rolling around in ten feet of snow and getting stuck in dirty banks of ice. Wonderful.
I trudged up to the front door. At my old school you would have found groups of kids lingering at the entrance hanging out smoking or playing poker (my kind of crowd), the nerdy kids playing magic cards or whatever.
There was no one lingering anywhere, it was just too cold. I stopped at the double doors of the school. There was a little bronze plate on the side of one that said...
'Blue Mountain High'
I sighed and gripped the handle, which was cold even through my bulky gloves.
"Alright, here goes nothing," I said to myself.
I pushed the doors open, the warm air rushing to meet me as I stepped inside. The office was to my immediate right, where a tiny, blond-haired woman with wide black-framed glasses sat behind a huge desk. She spotted me and waved enthusiastically.
"You must be Demetry. Come on in and we'll get you all sorted out."
This was both encouraging and a bit dismaying. It was nice to be welcomed so warmly, but honestly, if the woman recognized every one of her students and knew I wasn't one of them, how big could this school actually be.
"Hi," I straddled over and leaned both elbows on the top of the desk, peeling my heavy gloves off as I looked around. The walls were decorated with plaques and awards that students have won, and the cheerful little woman had apparently tried to spruce the head office up with potted plants and a fake palm tree.
"I'm Mrs. Zenaqui," she said. "I'm so pleased to meet you." She reached over the desk and grabbed hold of my hand. "Oh! Your hands are freezing, you poor thing. You must find this weather dreadful after living in California."
"It's... different," I said. It was hard to summon any type of enthusiasm for this place.
"You'll be attending Enhlish first," Mrs. Zenaqui handed me a slip of paper. "That'll be your time table. English will be your home class every day for this semester. Just take the stairs at the and of the hall, then walk all the way down the hallway upstairs and it's the last classroom on the left. Mr. Martins will be teaching this year, he's wonderful."
"Thanks." I clutched the time table and turned to walk out of the office.
"You're welcome, dear," Mrs. Zenaqui called after me.
I wandered down the hallway, peering curiously into each classroom as I went. All the doors were open, and I found myself maneuvering through crowds of little kids. Evidently the lower grades were down here. I pushed my way through a set of double doors and entered a staircase, where I startled a pair of kids my age who appeared to be sucking one another's faces.
"Oh." The blood rushed to my cheeks. "Sorry."
The girl, a tall, leggy blonde in a purple tree ankle top, stared at me curiously as I moved to walk past her and her date. I noted with pleasure that she was nearly as tall as I was. I had hit six foot on my fifteenth birthday, and felt like a freak since then. It was nice to see another giant.
"You're new," the girl said, and her tone was confident to the point of being demanding. "I'm Maddie. What's your name?"
Demi." I nodded to her and her companion, a dark, quiet boy who looked at his feet, He was several inches shorter than me, about the same height as I was two years ago.
"Nice to meet you," Maddie said. "You in Mr. Marlins class to start?"
"Yeah." I kept it short, badly wanting to and the conversation.
"Cool." Maddie turned back to the boy and grabbed his collar. "I'll see you in there, Demi."
I