The cold wet rain of spring pours down around Preston, soaking his clothes and hair. His sneakers slosh with every step he takes on the puddle spotted sidewalk. He needed to get away, to be able to think in peace without that old man breathing down his neck, the smell of beer reeking from his every hot breath...Preston shakes the thoughts away and keeps walking, the more distance between him and that foster home the better.
The Tates aren't the best of people, but no one knows that except for the kids who live with them, and that's the way the two foster parents want to keep it. Mrs. Tates loves to spend money, but only on herself as she shops for hours for the best outfit to wear to whatever thing she was going to that night. She also likes botox and plastic surgery, hoping to pass off as a twenty year old girl instead of a forty year old woman. Mr. Tates isn't any better, he spends whatever money he has on alcohol and smokes, and it doesn't help with the food problem that he also has a gambling issue. To make matters worse, Mr. Tates has also begun making passes towards the two young sisters living with them, Milly and Addison. Milly is 11 while her older sister is 15, they've been to only one other foster home before the Tates since their parents died in a drunk driving accident. They're the only two in the house that are biological siblings. Luckily, they weren't in the car when the drunk driver hit their parents SUV, because they were staying with their grandmother. Sadly, their grandmother lives in an old folks home and couldn't take them in, so they ended up in foster care. Preston sighs at the thought of the two girls, not related in anyway to him or any of the others, and he thinks back to the first day they arived, tears pouring down Milly's soft cheeks from her cystal blue eyes that swam like the ocean. Addison, or Addey as the other kids like to call her, was stone faced as she held her little sister close to her, as if she was trying to comfort and protect her from the harsh world that lay around them.
Preston tips his head back and sighs again as his thoughts turn to the only other two kids living with them, Peter and Antony -or better known as Little Petey and Tony. Little Petey is only 6 and doesn't quite understand how to stay out of trouble yet. He constantly makes mistakes, than cries and hides behind Preston or Tony as they try to protect him and the girls from their foster parents wrath. Tony is 17, same age as Preston, and tries his best to take care of their three foster siblings as well as he can while Preston is not around. He's a tough guy with a good heart, and he's like Preston's best friend. They all are. If Preston could remember what a family felt like he'd know he found his. A bit dysfunctional, but still a family.
The rain pours harder, the small droplets cold as ice, and Preston hunkers deeper into his oversized, beat up, brown leather jacket. His dark brown hair turns almost black from the wetness, and the bangs hang pin straight in front of his eyes as he peers up the street. No one is outside, but who would be in this weather? Yeah, a moody nut like him, of course. A car suddenly whizzes by, splashing water at Preston's feet. He curses, listening to the motor speed away and watching the red backlights grow tinier and tinier as it drives away. He sighs and keeps walking, the sound of rain drops showering the pavement in a symphony of rough hisses, beating it so hard the droplets bounce back off before settling into growing puddles. Another car whizzes by, but this time misses splashing him. Brakelights glow as the vehicle pulls to the curb on the opposite side of the street. The drivers window goes down, the sound of its motor proving that it is automatic, and Preston watches, expressionless, as a black haired boy peers out at him. No, not a boy, a man. The guy has to be about 21, his face showing maturity, light stuble noticable on his chin. His chocolate brown eyes gaze at the drenched boy in front of him. His lips move, and Preston strains to hear him over the thunderous rain.
"Need a lift?" The man asks, scrunching his face up like he doesn't understand why someone would walk in this storm.
Preston gives the offer a thought before glancing in the direction he had come from. There's no way he was going home yet, but maybe a drive with this unknown person will get his mind off of hishorrible life, his cruel past, and the rough road ahead that his future has in store for him.Or better yet, this man will turn out to be a killer and end Preston's life after he climbs in the car and they drive out to some woodland road where no one will see them.
Preston nods his head at the man and walks across the street. Rounding the car to the passenger side, he notes that its at least a year or so old with polished rims and a well cared for deep blue paint job. He climbs in and closes the door with a soft bang, being sure not to damage it. Cringing, he remembers his wet clothes.
"Sorry," he apologizes, looking down at his dripping clothing.
"It's fine," the guy smiles, reasurring him that it's no big deal.
"So, where to?" the guy asks once they pull away from the curb. Preston clicks his buckle into place.
"Wherever," is Preston's reply, looking out the window and watching the houses go past.
"Sounds good," the man agrees, nodding his head. He shoots Preston a smile.
*A/N: Pic to the right of Chase. *
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A Better Life
Teen Fiction>>Boyxboy, LGBT fiction<< Preston Anders doesn't like living with the Tates, but what else can he when they're his foster parents? Preston's life has never been easy, and there never seems to be anyone he can count on. But when he meets Chase Underw...
