Beneath the Surface

Chapter Two

Bilba sat on the windowsill and stared dully through the dirty panes. It was a brilliant spring day, with a crystal-clear blue sky and a bright sun.

Down below she could see the younger kids running about, playing tag or building forts out of old cardboard boxes. One of the older girls was seated on the tree swing, reading a book, while others from the older set were playing on bikes or skateboards.

Bilba knew dimly that she should be out there with them. Some of the kids had even invited her to go play, and her foster mother had been up three times to encourage her to go outside.

As if any of them actually cared. They hadn't worried when she'd been gone for weeks, hadn't batted an eye when she'd returned. Now, suddenly, she was expected to believe they cared whether or not she left her room?

Hardly.

Her legs were beginning to cramp where they were curled under her, but she couldn't find the energy to shift her position. Her entire body rested against the window, forehead against one of the panes.

It had been a month.

Two weeks since he'd stopped calling or trying to visit.

"If it bothers you so much maybe you should have answered the damn phone."

That was what Essie had said. She was a few months younger than Bilba and had carried a torch for Fili since the day she'd seen him. The fact he only ever wanted to hang out with Bilba made her angry, and she usually took that anger out on Bilba in the form of snide comments and asides.

It had never mattered before, because Bilba had Fili in the end so who cared what anyone else thought?

Except now she didn't have him.

She'd probably never had him, just the same as Essie had never had him but she'd at least had the good sense to realize it.

The worn wooden floorboards creaked behind her and Bilba shut her eyes and pretended to be sleeping. Hopefully, whoever had come in would get what they wanted and leave her alone.

"Bilba?"

Damn.

Bilba opened her eyes and lifted her head to see her foster mother's new boyfriend, whose name she couldn't quite remember, standing there. He was middle aged and short with an already receding hairline and wide framed glasses. He was nice enough, but had no experience with children and struggled to relate to them.

Bilba had always felt sorry for him. He was so out of his element and yet tried so hard.

But, then again, he hadn't looked for her while she'd been gone either, had he?

"What?" she asked tiredly.

He nodded over his shoulder. "Diane wants to see you."

Bilba grimaced. The last thing she wanted was a lecture or, worse than that, sympathy. She was not at a point where she could handle sympathy, probably never would be. "Can it wait?"

"No," the man said in a tone he probably hoped was firm. He frowned and then nodded at the old sweatpants and ragged t-shirt she was wearing. "You'll need to get dressed first."

Bilba had no idea why she needed to be properly dressed to go speak to her foster mother but couldn't find the energy to care enough to ask.

"You'll need to get out then," she said instead.

He flushed with embarrassment, and turned toward the door. "Be quick about it, they don't want to be kept waiting."

Bilba froze in the act of unwinding her legs. "They? Who are they?"