Bullet Point

Chapter 2: The Foster Family

"What time do you have to be home?" Kellan asks, placing a warm mug of coffee in Ninette's cold hands. 

"Well, it's already ten and Thursdays are when my mom likes to try and bond with the other kids." She states. "So we have a few hours."

"And by 'the other kids', you mean the foster kids?" He asks.

"That's exactly what I mean." she sighs and he wraps his arm around her. "We're getting a new kid tomorrow. Apparently his father just died and there were no other friends or relatives to take him in."

"So he's new to the system?" Kellan asks. " That's rough to adjust to."

"I know right. Especially since most kids who go into the foster system are only children who have never had to share a room." Ninette breathes.

"So who's he rooming with?" 

"Well it goes by age, so he'll be in with Darien and Tre." She surmises.

"Wow. I don't know how your mom can handle having 10 kids living under her roof." 

Ninette places the mug down on the coffee table and blinks. "Me and the adopteds get kind of annoyed with all the different kids coming and going all the time."

"But hey, you have a job that you love to keep you busy. And you also have me to keep you busy." Kellan winks and Ninette blushes.

"That's true." 

And then they dissolve into kisses for the rest of the night. 

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***

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"Hails, come on! You've been in there for 20 minutes! 9 other people have to use this bathroom!" Naya Reeves screams through the dark wood door. 

"5 more minutes!" Hailey Davis pouts, rubbing more shampoo into her long brown hair. 

"Both of you shutup! I'm next anyway." Ninette pushes past Naya and stands gaurd by the bathroom door. 

"Be careful, Ladies. She might have a gun!" Madison jokes, hugging Ninette warmly. 

Madison has been living with the James' for twelve years- they adopted her from an orphanage in Australia when she was five.

But the others like Hailey and Naya have only been here as long as 9 months.

Ninette opens her mouth to answer but a sharp ring interrupts her.

She pulls her phone out of her back pocket just as Hailey comes out of the bathroom and Naya sneaks her way in without being noticed.

"Hello?" Ninette asks.

"Hey babe." Its Kellan. "Could you come in a little early today?" 

"Uh, define early." She retorts through her teeth.

"Like...now." He tries.

"Kellan! I have to go to school!" She sighs, rubbing her temple. She looks down at her pajamas and rushes into her room to get dressed.

"Well, if you don't get down here we might have another international crisis on our hands. Someone's spewing across the internet and social media saying they have bombs set in every major government building in North America and the United Kingdom. We have him in custody but he says it's all going to blow in three hours." Kellan explains exasperatedly. "You're the only one Collins can think of that could convince him to cease his fire."

Ninette takes a deep breath. "I'll be there as soon as I can." She hangs up and throws on her work clothes- which consists of black leggings, a black v-neck shirt, black lace up boots, a holster and a CIA badge.

"Bitch, get out of the bathroom! it's my turn!" Tre bangs violently on the door and little Chad cowers back like he's afraid it might break in half.

That's the thing about foster kids.

A lot of them are troubled and violent. 

Not alot of foster homes are good environments, and kids usually have anger over losing their parents either to death, drugs, alcohol, or prison.

Tre is the oldest boy in the house. 

He was a foster kid until he was 8, when the James' adopted him after he's been put in a group home for beating up his last foster father.

Since then, he's gotten alot better but Ninette's mother still has to put him through therapy and support groups.

Once Ninette has finished her makeup and tied her shoes, she pulls her long blonde hair back into a ponytail, taking the stairs down to the kitchen. 

"Mom, where's my gun?" She shouts nonchalantly as she enters into the kitchen.

Two astranged faces stare back at her silently.

"Eamon. This is my biological daughter, Ninette." Her mother says to the tall dark featured boy beside her. "Ninette, this is Eamon. The new foster boy."

Ninette glances at Eamon and catches him checking her out.

As soon as her eyes meet his he looks in the other direction. 

"Hey." Ninette musters. "Now mom. My gun? Where is it?" She presses.

"Gun?" Eamon asks in a deep voice. 

He can't be younger than 16.

"Oh, Eamon don't worry. We keep it away from the children. Ninette works in the Central Intelligence Agency."

"Really mom? Just call it the CIA. Everyone knows what that is."

"Either way, honey." Mrs. James walks over to a high cabinet, out of Ninette's reach and hands her the gun. 

Ninette slips it into her holster and grabs her leather jacket off the coatrack by the door.

"Listen mom. I have to go by work. If I get off later I'll stop by the house, grab my stuff, and get to school. Promise." 

And then she's out the door and starting the car.