SEVENS

TOMAS AGAINST THE SYSTEM

A|N: here he is! Bad boy Tomas! And he's ready to take names and give hell.

Mary was a petite, well dressed, mild mannered, complete fucking useless excuse of a woman. Her southern charm did nothing but add to her play pretend game of being alright. Did nothing to stop the heavy fists she watched her husband throw at me. But hey at least she was polite and you couldn't "meet anyone sweeter!" As the case worker put it.

"If I'm being honest with you," she leaned forward and put her hand to one side of her mouth like she was sharing some big secret. "I'm a little jealous of you. The Riley's are amazing and I kinda wish I was moving in with them instead. But I think I'd get in trouble if I took your place."

Then she chuckled and shared a look with Mary who was to my right, like it was some sort of joke that I was in such a shitty mood. He's just being a typical teen! They would say. I'd heard it before, or stuff like it. My attitude was not valid, I had no say in what was going on or what I was feeling.

"Oh poor baby, we're being insensitive. Of course you're upset! Your mom just up and left you and here we are joking like it's nothing but a breeze." Mary cooed. I swatted at her hand when she placed it gently in my hair.

Yeah, mom left. It really was a wonder my mood was "souring like milk in the sun" as Mary had so fucking kindly put it.

"Why can't I go with my father?" I asked for the third time.

"Tomas, darling. You're father left you." Mary said.

"He didn't, I met him."

"Tomas you know lying doesn't get us anywhere! It's not going to work so let's not cause more owies by doing it okay?" The social worker chided at me. Like I was a fucking child.

We'd had the conversation more times than I could count. Every time I complained, yelled at them to pull their asses out of their heads they told me I shouldn't lie, I should just behave and not make up stories. I'd even been told it was why my mom left me the first time. I was a dumbass for trying over and over again.

I sunk low in my chair and crossed my arms. It was close to midnight and I was close to loosing my shit. We'd been at the stupid police station for over eight hours. It took me five minutes of cowering in the back of the police cruiser to build back up the walls I'd torn down in the time I'd been with the Ravens. Five minutes and I couldn't give a single shit about life anymore.

It's a way of survival and though I was a little rusty and out of practice I was getting the hang of it again. The blank slate, bad boy air I put out wasn't something I'd worn proudly in a year and a half but it fit like a bullet proof vest.

The social worker shuffled a few last papers and stuffed them into a file before taking another stack and turning it to Mary. "Mary here are all the papers you might need for legal or medical reasons. My number and office hours are also at the top of this document here," she pointed to the paper on top, "of you have any questions or need any support financially or otherwise. And Tomas-"

I pretended like I had been watching the window intently and drew my eyes slowly to the she-demon case worker.

"If you need anything this here is my card, you can contact me any time! And this here," She slid another paper to me laying her information card on top.
"This is a list of resources for you. If you ever feel lonely or need some friends there are a list of a few foster care support groups you can go to! They do a lot of fun things like bowling and movie nights! And then there are also some numbers if you are having a hard time in mental ways,"
She sighed and pursed her lips a little bit but then tried to play it off by smiling.
"I know you've struggled with some things and it's okay to need help! So if anything happens where you feel any need to lash out or lie, or feel like you might break down just call any of these numbers and they'll help you out."