Conflict of Interest: A Naturals Fanfiction

Rejection

"We need to talk," my mom announced, walking into the kitchen where I was working on my math homework. My legs were dangling off the stool, a pencil in my left hand while I my right held on to the worksheet.  I looked up at my mom as she took the place across the counter from me, trying to discern where the conversation was going to go.

And from the look on her face, not well.

"What is it mom?" I ask, setting my pencil down.

"We're needing to move again," my mom explains, and though I hate it, I'm not surprised.  "We're out of here in two days."

"But mom," I whine, "we just moved! I haven't even been at school for a month! And I actually have friends!"

We moved around a lot.  New schools, new homes, and new people. I never got a say, even though I don't know if they would listen to me anyway.

"Well, we have no choice, sooo, get packing!" My mom pointed towards the stairs that lead up to my room. I could see the fake enthusiasm in her face, but no clue as to why we needed to leave.

"But why mom? Why are we already moving?"

"Honey, we've been over this. It's for your dad's job."

Lie! Obviously she was lying. How come I had never noticed it before?

My mom walked over to me.....

***

"Earth to April," Jameson said, waving a hand in front of my face. "You good?"

"Sorry, I'm just tired." I gave an embarrassed smile. "I'm sure we all are, but just say what it is you need to say."

"Maybe it should wait for tomorrow," Mr. Gibson suggested, looking at his wife for support.

"April," Mrs. Gibson started, ignoring her husband's suggestion, "You've been with our family for over a year. You're like a daughter to us. You know that, don't you?" My gut clenched, but I forced my face to stay neutral as I waited for the but that always came.

"But," she continued, "we have no say over social services. We are a short-term foster family, and honestly, we never expected you to be with us this long." She looked at her husband. "Social services is moving you-"  A buzzing sound filled my ears, and I couldn't hear the words coming out of her mouth.

Keep your face neutral. Don't show that it affects you, or else it will. Neutral.  Goosebumps spread along my arms.

"-in Washington D.C.," She was saying. "They've wanted this for a while now, but we didn't know how to tell you. You're leaving in three days."

"Mom!" Jameson exploded, "Three days?! Seriously? And all the way across the country!!! April is part of our family! You can't do this!" He turned around and stormed up the stairs and into his room. I waited for him to slam his door. 3.....2.....1..... His parents cringed at the sound of his door slamming.

"We love you April," Mr. Gibson said, looking at his wife as my brain screamed at the lie.  You don't love me, I thought. You love the idea. You love the money. You love your family, but you don't really love me. 

"April," Mrs. Gibson tried again when her husband didn't continue, "don't make this harder than it has to be. We were told you would be with people your age. People you could better relate to. People you could become friends with. You're closed off here, and I don't blame you. You've haven't had the easiest life." I snorted. Understatement of the year.

"We think it will benefit you." And us, I read the words she wasn't saying. I knew I had been here longer than I should have been. I knew that being friends with Jameson wouldn't last long. But I wished that just once I could fit in somewhere. I wish that someone wanted me. And maybe I sounded childish for wishing that, because no one wants a screwed-up, mentally unnatural and emotionally unstable teenage girl.

"Ok," I said. That was it. No I understand, no I love you guys too. I didn't even get angry. Don't let it affect you, I repeated to myself. I turned on my heel and stalked up the stairs, barely closing the door behind me before I sank down to the floor. I didn't cry. I hadn't for years. Maybe I was sad. Maybe I felt angry.

But above all else, I felt a silent desperation to fit in somewhere.  To prove to myself I wouldn't become like my parents. Because if I didn't find that confirmation, I was worried I would become just like them.

Just like them and the monsters they were.