Princess -Janae Watson-OITNB

Prologue

Brielle (Age 14)-
"And this is our other daughter, Poussey." I look at the girl in front of me. She's not what I imagined when the Washingtons were telling me about their daughter. I thought she would be some polished military brat, maybe one of those girls who planned to join herself in a few years but, not the girl in front of me.
"Yeah, hi," she pauses, looking down at her converse before meeting my eyes, "I'm sorry I didn't come with them to pick you up. I was being a prick about this whole thing." "I get that, a lot of my foster siblings were upset about me too. It's that feeling toddlers get when they find out mom is pregnant. I'll try not to be too much on you ," I started to ramble while looking away from her to a tan sofa against the wall.
"Not like that!" Her sudden change in volume causes me to look back. "I didn't mean I was sour about you. I'm sour about moving back to America, I was sitting here pouting. I think it's actually really cool to finally have a sibling," Poussey looks away from me to look at her parents, "Do you mind if I show you around?" The question seemed to be directed at both her parents and me. Well, I guess, my parents.
"That would be sweet of you baby," Mrs. Washington's voice was soothing, speaking to her sixteen year old daughter as if she was soothing a small child. Poussey's eyes flickered to mine, making eye contact with me for the first time since. This moment coming across as more comforting than eye contact with Major Washington was before. "Yeah, that would actually be great." She smiles, "Great, so this is the entrance, also the living room, as you can see."
The short girl seems as nervous as I do about this new arrangement, as if it's the first day of school and we were just assigned as partners in biology. I let my eyes flicker around the room for a moment before turning to her, " Lead the way." "Next down this hall, first room on the right is the kitchen, dining room included," Poussey began to walk, talking with her hands, "And here to our left, a half bathroom."
I smile softly at her as she walks me down the hall. "I'm going to be honest with you, I feel like I might be dreaming still." She stops walking, Turing herself to look at me, "what do you mean?" "I gave up all hope of being adopted when I turned ten. Couples normally want babies and toddlers, not preteens and angsty teenagers." "You don't look very angsty to me," Poussey chuckles, leaning herself against the bare length of wall behind her.
"Yeah and your look doesn't really scream 'sweet military brat' but we are what we are, Poussey." "For starters, you can just call me P," she smiles softly at me, "and I guess you have a point there. Although personally, I think my beanie and red denim jacket scream, 'I'm sweet and gay, someone love me'." I let out a soft laugh at her remark, "I felt that." "Wait you too?"
My eyes widen, "Did I say that, like, out loud?" "Yeah but, don't sweat it kid, I won't tell on you. Mom and Dad are chill about it though, don't stress, you'll be loved regardless." I nod, letting my eyes skim over to the wall across from her. Family pictures lined it. "Wow I really do stick out like a sore thumb in this family, don't I?" The words were mumbled to myself as I stepped closer to look at the one closest to me. Poussey had to be about six or seven in the picture, hoisted up on her father's shoulders in the snow with her mom reaching up to fix his hat.
"I mean, I'll be honest with you B, wait is it cool if I call you that." I turn back to Poussey, who had moved closer to me while I looked away, "Yeah that's uh," I stutter while thinking about what she said, "I'm cool with being called B." "Well, B, you're definitely not gonna shock anyone when you say you're adopted, but if anyone gives you shit, I'll have you're back." I smirk, looking her over, "Well, I'm thankful for all five feet of you." "Hey!" She softly pushes my shoulder, "I'm five foot three, for your information." "Oh my sincerest apologies for forgetting to add your mohawk into your height." "Hey man, the height doesn't include my hair. It's not even that tall anyway," she pauses, her eyes flickering as she thinks a, "at least I don't think it's three whole inches."