Chosen Family (Adopted By Scarlett Johansson)

Chapter 1

The weather in Los Angeles is beautiful today. The sun is shining and there's a warm breeze so it isn't too hot. There isn't a cloud in the sky. Most people love this weather, and normally you would too, but right now the sun is giving you a blinding headache. Although, you're pretty sure you have a concussion, so that might have something that to do with the pounding in your head. Last night you came home thirty minutes late because of an annoying customer, and when you entered the house, your footsteps were too loud. Well, according to Mr. Blake, your foster father. You could smell the whiskey on his breath when he got in your face and held your upper arm in a bruising grip. Let's just say that he didn't appreciate it when you asked him to let go of you.

You live in a foster home, run by Mr. Blake. You didn't even know his first name; if you ever called him anything other than 'sir' or 'Mr. Blake' he would be sure to 'adjust your attitude'. There are three other kids who live in your foster home. Nick is older than you; he's 17 and he's rarely around, but you don't blame him. He's always at work or with friends, but he always tries to protect the rest of you when he is at the house. Danny, who is 9, is younger than you. Mr. Blake hasn't laid a hand on him yet, but he's getting tougher on him. He tends to stay away from the younger kids as long as they're quiet and behaved, so you and Nick always try to keep them out of Mr. Blake's way. The youngest of you, Adley, is 6. You try not to pick favorites, but let's be honest, she's definitely your favorite. She's the most like a real sibling to you, and you'd give up anything to keep her safe.

The house itself isn't too horrible. It's definitely not great, but it's livable. You don't know how he's avoided a house check-up from the foster agency, but it definitely wouldn't pass one. The house is old and needs a lot of repairs. You had to slide your bed over so the leak in the roof wasn't directly above your pillow. There are three bedrooms: Mr. Blake has his own; Nick and Danny share a room; and you and Adley share a room. Adley doesn't have her own bed, so she's been sleeping in yours since she arrived a year ago.

At the moment, you're walking down the street to a small, family-owned market. It's 11 a.m. on a Saturday, so a lot of people are out and about, but that's exactly what you need to blend in. You hate doing it, but sometimes you have to steal to get the things you need, whether it be food or medical supplies when Mr. Blake gets really angry. Today you just need some food for Danny and Adley— Mr. Blake hasn't gotten groceries in weeks, and you didn't make enough money on the last paycheck to buy any. You tried not to steal too much, so you rarely stole food for yourself. You hate that you have to take from small businesses but you can't risk getting caught on cameras, and the smaller places never have them.

You enter the small corner store and make your way into one of the back aisles. There's no one around, so you slip a few granola bars into the pocket of your denim jacket. It's your grandfather's old jean jacket, so the pockets and the jacket itself are pretty large. You grab a couple more things; all of them are nutritious because it's all the kids are going to be eating until your next paycheck or Mr. Blake gets groceries (which would be a miracle). You grab two bottles of water for 50 cents each. You always make sure to buy something so it doesn't look suspicious. As you're walking out of the aisle, you run directly into a pretty blonde woman and she drops the basket she was holding.

"Oh, god, I'm so sorry, honey. Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine. I should be the one apologizing, I ran into you," you say as you bend down to pick up the stuff she dropped.

"No, you don't need to apologize. Here, this fell out of your pocket..." she says as she hands you a granola bar, but she trails off as she realizes why it was hidden in your pocket.

"Oh! Um, thanks. I wonder how long that's been in there," you say to play it off. You laugh nervously, hoping that she lets it go.

"Were you stealing?"

"What? No! Do you always accuse innocent little girls whom you just met of crimes?" Okay, that was a bit much, but what choice do you have?

"Right, sorry," she says, but she still doesn't seem convinced.

"Yeah, it's fine. Have a good day, ma'am." You walk around her and hurry to the counter to pay, hoping to get out of there as fast as possible. You don't think she'll say anything, but you'll never steal from here again; you just can't take the risk.

You hate what you've become. A 15-year-old girl who steals, works thirty hours per week, and fights in an illegal underground fighting ring to make a little cash on the side. You used to be a great kid before the accident. You were kind, you did well in school, and you never broke the rules. You're pretty smart, but your grades look pretty bad because you never have time to do the work. You still try to be kind to everyone, but it's hard to remember that good people exist when the universe continuously throws shit at you. Ever since a car accident took the lives of your parents and your older sister, things have been going downhill. After the accident, you went to live with your aunt, but then she got into heavy drugs to cope. Her boyfriend moved in, and they were high all of the time. He would beat both of you constantly. It got worse, but eventually you...took care of the situation. You don't like to talk about that day.

You'll be 16 soon, so you're saving for a car. The money from the fighting league goes into your savings account for a car and college. The money from your job at a local bookstore goes toward the other kids, personal needs, and food, but Mr. Blake knows about this job and he often takes your paycheck from you. That's the good thing about the fights— he can't take the earnings because he doesn't know about them.

You snap out of your thoughts as you approach the house. You go through the side yard and climb the willow tree. You slide open the window and pull yourself into your bedroom. Adley is curled up in your bed taking a nap, and a watery smile takes over your face. You hate that these innocent kids have to grow up in such a horrible place. You set the food and water in the box under the bed, and pull the blanket over Adley. You tiptoe into the boys' room to get Danny. Nick isn't home. You try to keep all the kids in the same place so you can make sure they're safe. Danny is sitting on the floor coloring.

"Hey, buddy. You wanna come color in my room with me and Adley?"

"Sure," he replies in a sweet tone. Even though he's older than Adley, he's still too young to understand exactly what goes on around the house, but he's stopped asking why you leave the house all the time and sometimes come back bloody and bruised.

You pick up his coloring supplies and take his hand, leading him to your room. You sit next to him on the floor and do your homework, but you can't focus. That woman in the market— what if she said something to the owner? You couldn't afford to get in trouble with the law. And why did she look so familiar? Surely you've never met her before, this city is huge. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, and focus on the pre-calc in front of you.