Lexi
The friends we have as children shape us. Some of them we keep forever, some of them we lose along the way... but all of them leave something behind... or in his case, take something as they leave.
Mason Jennings held my heart in his hands at...
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*Age 17*
1317 days
I take a mental note of the number as I draw the tally line in my notebook.
1317 days in foster care
1317 days since I last saw either of my parents
1317 days since I last saw Lexi
1317 days since everything I thought I knew exploded
1317 days in the dark about everything that happened...
I've had a lot of time to play it back and it feels as though I add another question to the list anytime I'm alone with my thoughts.
Which is always.
So I have a lot of questions.
And today, on my 17th Birthday, I get the gift of answers.
I throw on my only hoodie that's been too small for me for months now and make my way downstairs, carefully choosing my steps so I make the least amount of sound on this staircase that is creakier than a pensioner's joints. Peter and I are pretty sure they keep it this way so they know if we ever sneak out.
Speak of the devil, my dirty blonde haired foster brother creeps towards me from the kitchen as I reach the bottom of the stairs. Surprise, surprise he's looking guilty as sin.
"You do know the plan is not to get caught before we leave right?" I jibe.
"And you do know if I don't steal food from the Vamps then I have to do it from a store. They're more likely to slap the handcuffs on me Jennings."
"Or just don't steal food at all?"
"And listen to your needy stomach share its disapproval with me all day? Yeah no thanks." he jests and I quietly chuckle while grabbing the bread roll he nabbed for me out his hand.
Peter was already here when I was shipped off to the VanCamp's. It's my third foster home since the 1st one decided I wasn't worth the stress after 6 months and the 2nd had their licence revoked by the state at the start of the year.
It's been nice to have another society reject around this time, both for at home for the summer and in school before that.
Peter's been calling the VanCamps 'Vamps' since he got here, his reason being they're dead to the world all day in bed or locked away in the basement doing god knows what and then they're on our asses at night, guarding us like chickens on a fox farm. God forbid we go out and lose them their state check.
"By the way, Happy Birthday man." Peter says fluffing up my hair.
I snigger and shove him into the doorframe as he walks out in front of me.
