The Love I Found

Chapter 2

Cal is still leaning against the fence, though his cigarette is already crushed on the sidewalk beside his black Converse shoe.

I quickly walk past him and glance back at Marissa. She gives me a wave with a big smile before crossing the street to walk back to her house. She lives on the nicer side of town.

If only what she said about her parents loving me was true. I'm not really sure what the word "love" even means, but I know that the vibes I get from Mr. and Mrs. James are not loving.

I keep my eyes cast down as I come up to the gate in the fence, and I hear Cal lower his foot to the ground as he pushes off the chain links with his shoulders to stand upright. He closes the distance between us and stands at my side as I try to get my hands to cooperate with the latch. Of course, it has to be stuck in place now, while Cal is waiting for me to open it.

He is much taller than me, but at my measly height of 5'1 that isn't saying much. Even without the height difference, his frame is much larger than my own, and I notice it in a whole new way as his shadow settles over me, blocking the rays of sunshine that are coming from the west.

His facial structure reminds me of a Michelangelo-style sculpture with all of its sharp angles and perfect lines. I used to think his eyes were brown like his tousled hair, since they always look so dark, but I've come to realize that they are actually a dark shade of blue. They remind me of the night sky, just before the last of the daylight's blue fades away from it.

"Here." The word comes out softly, but I still jump as if he had shouted the single syllable at me.

My hands drop from the latch, and I back away a few steps. Cal raises an eyebrow at my reaction, holding his hands up in mock surrender before reaching for the latch and opening it with one quick and easy movement.

I want to make a lame joke about having loosened it for him. That is something quirky that Marissa would say. But I have never heard Cal joking around before, and something tells me that he wouldn't find it very funny.

Besides, I had clearly not loosened it for him. He is all bulge and muscle, and I can barely get a little lump to rise on my bicep if I attempt to flex my arm. Believe me, I tested out this theory in the bathroom mirror, shortly after meeting Cal. There is no way he would ever need my help with anything.

He gestures for me to walk through the gate ahead of him, and I duck my head as I pass him, mumbling a soft, "Thanks, Cal."

He doesn't reply, but then, I didn't expect him to. Cal is a boy of few words. I already know this, much like I already know Marissa loves to talk. I've accepted both of them for who they are, though I sort of wished Cal would talk to me a little more.

After all, I have never had another kid around my age living in the same home as me. I don't want to think of Cal as my brother, but I still feel as though we have a sort of connection, both being foster kids and all. It’s nice to have him around for that simple fact alone. Even if he doesn't speak to me often, he must understand me on some level more than any other person in my life.

I had only been placed with the Scotts a few weeks ago. Before here, I was temporarily placed in a few homes, but none of them were meant to be long-term. They were just trying to keep a roof over my head after the couple I had been living with for a year unexpectedly couldn't care for me any longer.

I had just begun to settle in with the Pakowskis when my life had suddenly been uprooted, and I ended up a few towns over with Mr. and Mrs. Scott. And with them had been Cal Jones, their current foster kid.

I hadn't been particularly attached to Mr. and Mrs. Pakowski. Still, her cancer diagnosis had been unsettling, and moving to a new place again wasn't exciting for a timid girl like myself. At least cancer seemed like a better excuse to get rid of me than the one the Parsons had used.