It's Complicated

The Times They Are A-Changing

Las Vegas, 1996

I went back to school a week after my dad got locked up and Rossi and his team returned to their base. Rossi gave me his address and said to write if I ever needed a place to stay or help.

I write a letter to Rossi everyday, he writes back and tells me what he is going to cook for me if I ever visit him. I told him how I wanted to be like Sherlock Holmes and then he told me that private investigators these days are mostly frauds so my new obsession/dream job is the FBI behavioral analysis unit.

The police kept trying to ring my mother but she never answered. They called to her office and she wasn't there. It's like she completely left with no trace.

So then they did some digging on my family and turns out I have no relative that is suited to take care of a child. They all either have no room or just refuse to take care of me. Evan can take care of me temporarily because he is 18 but social services is going to put me in a home by the end of the year. Apparently loads of parents are just dying for a 15 year old girl (note the sarcasm)

Now, in school, everybody thinks I'm a murder because apparently it's 'in my genes' which is definitely not a scientific gene that can be carried down...I think.

The teachers have decided to just completely ignore me now, probably because they are scared I'm going to get some gang member to hurt them. And it shows that they aren't teaching me , I've only done two maths tests since I got back to school and failed both.

Evan and I cant pay for a tutor and Evan couldn't help. Even though dad left a lot of money, Evan and I agreed that 'we'd rather work every second of our lives than to use anything belonging to that bastard'.

So he is making me ask Spencer Reid, yes the one I found tied up to the post when I was 11, to be my tutor for maths because 'even though he's a senior he might as well already graduated and doesn't need to study' according to Evan.

I doubt Spencer remembers me or he probably doesn't even want to remember me. He is definitely going to say no to me though because he's gonna think I'm going to get him involved in some mafia shit or something.

But here I am, walking up to the floor where all the seniors lockers are. I spot him straight away because he doesn't really look the same age as everyone else there because he's not.

"Excuse me" I ask him from behind, he doesn't even look back.

"Excuse me, Spencer?" I ask again, more agitated. He finally turns around and looks down at me.

"..oh, hello?" He questions, definitely thinking I'm a killer.

"Sorry, this is really stupid but my brother told me you were really good at maths and I've been failing maths recently because I missed a few classes. Can you please give me a few lessons or just help me in maths?" I rambled, looking up at him with hopefully eyes.

Spencer  looked like he was trying to calculate something before coming up with a answer or
maybe trying to come up with a excuse.

"Depends what times you are free to learn maths" Spencer replied with a cute chuckle. He only said 10 proper words and I felt butterflies in my stomach, pathetic.

"Any day, after school hours of course" I gripped my school bag tighter to contain my joy.

"Okay. Thursdays after school. I'll be in the library anyways so ehm you can find me there and just bring your maths books" I nodded in reply agreeing.

The week seemed to be going along really slow, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited to meet with Spencer in the library. I've never really been friends with many boys before so this was kinda big for me even though it was maths.

He was sitting at the back of the library at a big enough table to fit 4 people. He was reading one of my favorite books, Frankenstein. It was very hard to find a classic Mary Shelly version so I was very impressed even though he was known to be a child prodigy.

I dropped down my bag next to him and sat in the chair, he immediately looked up confused but then remembered.

"You excited for maths?" I joked, I should've probably said something about Frankenstein and how much I loved the book but my brain just instantly told me not to talk about anything I am really interested in because I tend to go on rambles.

"I love Frankenstein, are you enjoying it?"  I finally asked after 2 seconds of silence.

"Yeah, I've read it before. Just re-reading it" Spencer stated making me feel sort of dumb, of course he read it, he's a child prodigy and I'm pretty sure his mum teaches those types of books, he's probably read every classic ever. I hummed in reply acting as if I knew that already, he looked at me in the eyes and smiled back. I giggled silently and at eye contact.

"Anyways, maths"  I said slamming my big mathematics book on the table.

Hours passed but it felt like minutes, Spencer was a excellent teacher and a beautiful view to look at. Before we knew it, the librarian was packing up and ushering us out.

"Em do you want me to walk you home?" He asked clutching he leather satchel.

"Yeah, sure, please" I smiled standing up and following him.

We talked about everything and anything, turns out we both want to be like Sherlock Holmes but I told him with all his brains that he is already as smart as Holmes. We also both love Bob Dylan, which is amazing.

We were about a block away from my house when we saw a group of shadowy fingers who sounded like a group of rowdy teenagers our age 'hanging out'.

As we passed them they kept murmuring to each-other about something and I swore I heard my name more than once.

"Where's my dad?" One of the once shadowy figures revealed himself and walked up to us. He was around Evans age or older and had a dyed blonde buzz cut.

"Your dad?" I don't even know this guy and he expects me to know where his dad it.

"Yes, my dad. He did some business with a Irish guy then when missing. Sound familiar? I know that you know where he is?!" He asked again, getting closer to Spencer and i and starting to wave his hands around trying to intimidate us.

"Look, Fox News released the victims who" I tried to explain but I was cut off by him.

"Yeah, 'Fox News'. Better be careful where you go Doyle, you don't have your daddy to protect you anymore" he scoffed turning around.

Spencer and I continued the walk home in complete silence.

"Sorry you have to uh go though that" Spencer said stuffing his abnormally large hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, that sucked. " i shamefully admitted mimicking him and stuffing my hands in my pockets.

"But I'm moving away soon and going to start over so it's all going to be fine" I reassured myself  trying to look on the bright side.

"Moving?" Spencer curiously asked a bit disappointed but he shouldn't care, he's going to college next year.

"I don't have anyone to take care of me so, you know...foster homes." I told him, still with my hands in my pockets and my eyes trained on the ground.

Spencer only nodded in reply. It was silence for a moment so I decided to revive the conversation.

"You know, that a variety of studies reported that 30 to 40 percent of foster children have been arrested since they exited foster care. And over one-fourth have spent at least one night in jail and over 15 percent had been convicted of a crime" I recalled from the book I slipped into my bag  from the bookstore about foster kids. It's all that I've been thinking about all day, I don't even know why I memorized it.

"Huh really? ......I don't think your gonna be like that." He replied, looking up at me for the first time in a while.

"Yeah, why's that?"

"I don't positively know right now, and around like uh 76% of statistics are made up ."  He chuckled followed by one of his tight lipped smiles.

"Fair enough" i mirrored his tight lipped smile.