Adopted by Albert | ✔

10 | uncomfortable silence

Albert and Kirsten didn't talk to me the entire rest of the day.

At night, when they thought I was asleep, I heard them arguing about me. Not loudly, since I couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, but I had the general idea of what they were talking about.

In the morning, we were packing, and we were driving back to the airport like we did two days ago. Neither of them said a thing to me, and I didn't bother trying to get back on speaking terms, anyways.

For the whole ride home, it was all in silence. Albert and Kirsten barely spoke to each other, too.

I couldn't tell if they were mad or not. I mean, of course they felt some sort of disappointment, and I hated that. I hated that I ruined the entire trip. We could've been back at the convention, hanging out with Jake, Kaden, Raven, and meeting fans on the last day of our vacation.

But no. I ruined it. I ruined it because a girl messed with my head and I let her get to me.

I gave her the reaction she was looking for.

And because of one simple decision I made in the heat of the moment, Albert and Kirsten had to deal with a million more problems that could have all been avoided.

I wanted to say how sorry I was. I wanted them that I wished it never happened, how I'd just dried my hands and left, ignoring them. I never wanted to reverse time in my life more than now.

I wanted to tell them what really happened. Not what security told them, how me, a deranged psycho with anger issues, attacked an innocent girl, but what really happened. What she'd told me. How I'd lost my head.

But how could I explain something to someone who didn't even want to listen to me?

I stared out the window for the entire trip. I didn't eat anything, because I didn't trust myself not to puke up any food that would go down.

We were in Orlando sooner than I wanted to be. We got an Uber and drove home, back to the house. Kirsten unlocked the door, I took my stuff and went to my room, closed the door, and flopped on the bed. 

Maybe if I just never left my room again, I'd be forgotten. Albert and Kirsten would forget about what a horrible daughter they had. I could just live in peace for the rest of my life.

My master plan failed. About an hour later, Albert came into my room. It was after dark by now, but I was refusing to eat. I was not going to eat their food after what I'd done to them.

"Hey," Albert said, shutting the door. His voice was way calmer than usual. It was the one he used when we were up on the roof a few days ago, watching the sunset.

Was that a few days ago? It felt like an eternity since it happened.

Albert sat on my bed and handed me a glass of water, and I sat up and drank it in less than two seconds. I'd forgotten how thirsty I was. For a couple moments, we didn't talk.

"So Kirsten's still mad at me, huh?" I asked, not looking at him.

"Kind of. But mostly worried."

Great. Now they think I've got issues.

"What, you think I'm a psychopath?" I snapped, angrily. Because of one thing, everyone was going to say I'm not mentally okay.

"No," he responded, "You obviously didn't attack the girl on purpose. I know you, Blair, you don't hurt people unless you have a good reason." He stared at me. I refused to return the gaze.

"She was talking bad about you," I blurted out, "She said you were a racist and you adopted me for fame, and you abused your ex-girlfriend..."

"She said that, huh?" When I didn't answer, Albert continued, "So she made you angry and in the moment you decided to do something you didn't think through?"

I paused. He wasn't really helping. "Yeah. And now because of me you've got about a dozen more problems to deal with."

"Listen," He said, "I don't care about those problems. I know how you feel, alright? I know why she called me those names. I've done things that I regret. People still find ways to call me out for them."

"Albert, I swear, if you're about to tell me to just ignore them I'm gonna attack you."

He laughed a little, then went quiet, as if he remembered something.

"What?" I asked. Now it was me trying to catch his eye. "What's wrong?"

He didn't answer automatically. After a few seconds of hesitation, he said, quietly, "Mr. Grant called. He heard about what happened. He's... coming tomorrow to pick you back up."

I stared at him in horror. I felt myself shaking. So that was it. Mr. Grant was taking me away. Away from Albert, Kirsten, Bedrock, Noah, away from here. Away from this place. All because I couldn't keep it together.

"I'm sorry, Albert." My vision blurred. "I'm so, so, sorry."

For the first time in more than a year, I was crying. Tears were rolling down my face, and I couldn't stop them. I put my head in my hands, quietly gasping for air, wishing I could disappear.

"I wish it never happened," I whispered, "I wish we never went. I'm sorry."

I felt Albert get up and walk out the door. He shut it the quiet way, the way he did my first night here. When I didn't know how amazing my new parents were. When I didn't have a care in the world, other than surviving for a month at another stranger's house.

I didn't go out of the room for the rest of the night. At some point, I heard Kirsten knock on the door, when I opened it there was a small table with a plate of food. Along with all the sadness, I felt a bit of gratitude. She'd saved me from going downstairs for dinner. I hoped that was a sign she kind-of forgave me.

After eating, I set the plate back outside and laid on my bed, out of tears, staring up at the ceiling, listening to Albert in the next room, recording a video, a bit quieter than usual. I wondered what it'd be like after I left. If they'd miss me. How long it'd take to make an apology video about their foster-daughter and why she had to leave so soon.

I fell asleep there, my lights still on, still in my VidCon clothes. The last night I'd ever spend in this room with this family I had.

In the morning, I packed my stuff. I took a quick shower, shoved everything I owned in my suitcase, and brought it downstairs. Both Albert and Kirsten were awake, also downstairs, waiting for Mr. Grant to arrive.

And he did. In his usual wrinkle-free suit, he stepped into the home. Never have I ever not wanted to see him so much in my life.

"All packed up, then, Blair?" He asked. I nodded, afraid that if I talked I'd start crying again.

"Well," he shook hands with my ex-foster parents, "We'll be on our way, now. Thank you so much for fostering, it truly was a good deed. Say goodbye." That last sentence was directed at me.

I nodded again and said, "Bye," the word choking up in my throat. Albert wasn't looking at me. Kirsten was. She said goodbye, too, and Bedrock ran up to me, too, his claws scratching the hard floor as he did, making a familiar skittering noise.

"Bye, Rocky," I said, kneeling down to pet him one last time, "I'll miss you." Kirsten picked him up, and I followed Mr. Grant out the door.