The picture above is Chloe
"In this house we do mixed beginnings
and love unending."Chloe
I'm sitting on the end of Cason's bed, while he sits at his desk looking at something on the computer.
"Case?" I ask nervously.
He turns around and looks at me, concerned, noticing my tone of voice. "Yeah?"
"Do you remember our parents? Not Mom and Dad, but our birth parents?"
His eyes widen and his face clouds. "I remember a few things." He jumps up and begins pacing.
Now I feel bad. I know this is hard for him to think about, "Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."
"No, don't." He sighs, "I know you must get curious sometimes. You were so little the last time we saw them. It's just ... It's different for me."
"I know. We really don't have to talk about this."
He stops pacing and comes to sit next to me. "They weren't very nice. They..." he trails off.
"Stop! You don't have to ... I'm fine."
"I'm sorry. I promise I'll tell you about them someday."
I lean my head on his shoulder. Once upon a time, this was the only place I felt safe. We're quiet for a moment.
"C?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think they loved us? Even a little bit?"
He lets out a heavy sigh, "Mom and Dad love us."
A single tear trickles down my check, "Yeah."
At dinner the next night, I notice that Zoe is missing, "Hey, Mom? Where's Zoe?" I ask.
Mom meets my eyes, "She said she wasn't feeling very good. I tried to get her to eat something but she said she's not hungry."
"Oh." I exchange a glance with Cason, he looks worried. Should I be worried? I don't know Zoe very well, but she seems so sad sometimes and she spends all her time alone. It seems so ... lonely. Besides Zoe's always hungry. I rush through dinner, and ask to be excused as soon as I'm done. Mom seems confused for a second, before she follows my gaze to stairs and nods in understanding, "Go ahead." I'm halfway to the stairs when she calls me back. "Chloe! Take this plate up to Zoe for me." I grab the plate and make my way upstairs.
I knock on the open door and Zoe looks up from where she's sitting up against her headboard with an open book.
She looks a little surprised to see me, and I feel guilty for not making more of an effort.
"Hey," I say awkwardly.
"Hi," she replies.
"We, um, missed you at dinner."
"Yeah, sorry about that, I wasn't feeling well."
"That's what Mom told me," I pause, still feeling awkward, "Can I come in?"
Zoe gives me a strange look, part confused, part happy, and maybe also a little scared, but nods anyway.
I walk over and perch on the windowsill next to her bed. I hold out the plate in my hand, "Mom put together a plate for you. If you decide you're hungry."
Zoe nods, "Um ... Did you ... need something?"
"No. I just thought ... I don't know, you might want some company. I hate being alone when I'm sick."
"I'm not actually sick, Chloe." Zoe's hands fly to her mouth like she can't believe she said that out loud.
I stare at her for a minute and then start to laugh, "I knew that, Zoe!" I gasp. After a couple of seconds, I realize Zoe is laughing too. In that moment I realize that the Zoe I know is completely different from the relaxed and carefree girl sitting next to me.
Suddenly Zoe stops laughing, "I'm used to being alone actually."
The mood in the room changes, and I can feel the door slamming shut even as I speak, "I know, but you're not anymore."
Zoe looks at me but doesn't meet my eyes, "Yeah, I know."
I can tell she wants me to leave, but I'm not sure that it will be helpful. "I'll see you later," I whisper. I stand up and walk to the door leaving the plate of food on the window sill.
I need a way to help Zoe see that she can trust us, we're her family now.
YOU ARE READING
A Home For Zoe
Fiction généraleCompleted!!!!!!! She starting over, again... Fourteen-year-old, Zoe Whitman has been bouncing around the foster care system for half her life. When she is kicked out of yet another group home, she almost gives up hope. Yet, just as things seem to be...