Best Friends (BxB)

New Friends are Always a Good Thing, Right?

Chapter 16: Age 17 New Friends Are Always a Good Thing, Right?

Riley gave Noah the directions to their foster home. It was actually not horribly far from he and Jamie's houses, five blocks or so away. Almost right across from their old elementary school.

He pulled up to the curb and turned off the engine.

"Which one is it?" he asked curiously.

"The green one," Sara said morosely. "The one with the chipped paint, the broken shutters, the overgrown lawn. Nice, right?" She and Riley exchanged sour looks.

"Hmmm," Noah wasn't about to tell them that everyone around called it the haunted house, and the old woman who lived there a witch. Just a neighborhood story. Kids would run past the house on the way to school, or make charms out of construction paper to put in their pockets if they thought they'd see the old woman. He couldn't believe Sara and Riley had to live there.

"You want to come in?" Sara asked, smirking, in a nasty voice, wondering if this goodie two shoes would be so willing to befriend them if he saw the state of the inside. It wasn't pretty.

"Sure," Noah said without a pause. Riley flashed him a genuine smile. Together the three kids approached the house. Noah with some trepidation but also childhood curiosity. Riley resigned. Sara with her so far typical angry face.

"We're home," Riley called as they unlocked the door and opened it.

Noah instantly wished he had a gas mask. The house reeked of ammonia. Cat pee. It seemed to hang heavy in the air like a fog, overwhelming him to the point of needing to cover his face for a second.

Sarah chuckled. "You get used to it. Give it like five minutes and you won't smell a thing."

The old woman who stumbled into the living room was the witch of Noah's childhood. Obviously even older now, she was short with grizzled fly away gray hair streaked with silver, huge thick black frames magnifying her muddy colored eyes, slightly hunched over, wearing a thick plastic orange bead necklace and huge rings on her gnarled fingers. At her feet swarmed a group of three cats, rubbing their heads against her legs as she tottered towards them.

Noah took a step back.

Riley patted his shoulder and whispered. "She's actually really nice." Then to the woman. "Hi, Dorothy! We're home from school!! This is our new friend Noah!!!" To the boy, "She's pretty hard of hearing."

The younger, blonde boy stiffly allowed the woman to embrace him, her face coming up to his chest, patting his back affectionately. "Poor boy. Poor boy. Lost his father. No mother. No home. New school." She muttered, barely understandable. "He's probably hungry," she said looking down at her cats. "Must feed a growing boy." And shuffled back into the other room.

Noah ran a hand threw his brown hair, a little shaken. This was the person taking care of them? This lady probably needed to be in a care home. He glanced around the room and everywhere he looked, he was more and more distressed.

There were boxes of newspapers and baskets of yarn. Two huge bookshelves with shelves falling diagonally, books piled this way and that. Tons of cardboard boxes, some empty, some full of old clothes. An old fireplace, dusty and cracked. The walls themselves grimy. The blinds, broken and coated in a dark dust. An old sofa and a loveseat, torn and ripped, covered in blankets and each with two snoozing cats.

"The social workers let you guys live here?" Noah was in shock.

Sara laughed, and it almost gave Noah goosebumps. "I think maybe they thought they were killing two birds with one stone. We could take care of her, and she would give us a roof over our head. Welcome to hell on Earth." And still grimly chuckling, went down a hallway, opened a door, and went inside.