If Only Being Switched at Birth Was Easy

/4/ Of All The Times I Saved His Ass, He Couldn't Say a Simple Goodbye

"Hey," Nikko said to me in the halls. I looked to King, but then walked away with Nikko.

"What?" I sighed.

"Have you decided?" he asked.

"It's been a day," I reminded. Less than a day.

"So?" he asked. I rolled my eyes. But then I stopped walking.

"If I get out of the foster home—"

"Everything else will stay the same," he finished in assurance.

"What about King?" I asked.

"What about him?" he asked with his nose turned up.

"I have to take him with me," I reasoned, biting my lip. He turned to me.

"Why?" he asked.

"He's my brother," I said. His look expressed "I'm your only brother," but then he shrugged.

"Whatever," he said and continued to walk.

He dropped me off in my first period—the class he had early on to get credit, but then got a schedule change—and then turned to me and grabbed my wrists before I entered the room. I glared up at him.

"Is it a yes?" he whispered.

"It's an 'I'll think about it,'" I answered before breaking his hold and walking into class.

***

"Wait," I heard Nikko's voice say at the end of the day when I was headed towards the guys. I turned.

"What now?" I groaned.

"Never mind. I'll just text you," he muttered before putting his head down and walking away.

"I thought you weren't ever interested in anybody?" a new voice said as I felt an arm around my shoulder.

"Trust me, I'm not," I said as I slid Connor's arm off my shoulder.

"Then why in the world would you talk to someone like him?" Connor asked.

"Meaning?" I asked.

"Meaning he's a rich prick," Jack answered. I rolled my eyes as I started to walk away. I left to think to myself but I could see King following me from my peripherals.

"What would you do if I moved out?" I asked him now that we were away from the others.

"Of where?" he asked.

"Where do you think?" I answered. I looked over to him and his hair hid his expression on his face.

"I don't know," he answered. "I mean we always talk about it but..."

"I think I might," I whispered.

"Well good luck in the real world," he wished. That's all he had to say? Sixteen years and that's all he had to say? Maybe he didn't even want to leave with me anymore. But when we got home and it was an immediate screaming match, I wondered how he wasn't more happy for the thought of me leaving the hell hole.

"Seriously, King?! I get a freaking call from the police department saying you assaulted some boy Monday night!" our foster mother accused when we barely stepped through the door. King rolled his eyes.

"You really want to get into trouble again?! After what happened last time? You're too damn old and unfortunately too damn smart to be acting this way," 'Dad' yelled, despite the number of small children around the house hearing his language.

"You don't even—"

"It doesn't matter! If this boy presses charges, you're gonna be the state's problem. Not ours," she said. She sighed stressfully. "We can't keep—"