You Still Matter (Adopted by DEH)

Two:

Magnolia POV:

I sat on the soft couch in the blue room, as I heard Mr. Faist, Mike, making a hushed phone call out of the door. I stood up to go exploring, and I walked carefully to the window admiring the view from up above the street.

"So, bad news," I heard Mr. Faist say as he walked back in. "There's no foster placements in the area at the moment, and most of their social workers have taken off for the holidays, so you currently don't have a place to sleep." He winced.

"Oh that's okay." I nodded. "Thanks for your hospitality and helping me out. It was nice meeting you." I grinned.

"Well, wait." He sighed. "I live in a one-bedroom apartment, so there's nowhere there, but I'm sure a blanket on the couch would be warm."

"No, really, you've done too much already." I said smiling slightly. "This was a dream come true, I mean, minus the whole getting slapped foster care thing." I shrugged.

"Well, I mean, at least take this." He ran over to a drawer, and pulled out a playbill with a ton of signatures on it. "It's signed by the whole cast."

"I can't take this," I gushed. "It has to be worth something fierce."

"No, no, we have a ton. We usually give them out to famous people who stop by." He laughed. "Really, it's yours."

"Thank you." I smiled a feeling of sadness and overwhelming joy hitting me like a wave.

"Here," He said flipping it over and pulling a sharpie out of his pocket. He scribbled down some numbers, then handed me the playbill. "My number's on the back, if you ever need anything." He smiled.

"Thank you! It was great meeting you!" I grinned, taking the playbill carefully and leaving the theatre.

Leaving the theatre, however, is what caused my grin to instantly fade. I'm not sure if it was the freezing cold weather, and my two-sizes-too-small coat, or the feeling of panic, that I had nowhere to go. I think it was the feeling of panic. I picked a direction and started wandering, avoiding the people asking for money, who smelled strongly of marijuana, and I made my way into times square, picking up loose change I saw on the ground, trying to see if I could find something to eat from a street food vender. But in New York City, fifty-two cents won't get you far.

I wandered over to the closing shops, and sat down on a storefront, and re-counted the change in my hand, making sure I hadn't accidently picked up something useless or gross. I eyed the streets, the people slowing down as the shops closed, but to the right, times square remained extremely busy, people bustling to get home or get away. After all, it was eleven o'clock on a Saturday in New York City. Never a good combination. I felt myself begin to shiver, as I eyed the sky, seeing light powdered flurries start to sprinkle down, and land on my bare hair, and pale shaking hands. I held the coins I had gathered tight, cursing Adam for smashing my phone.

I looked down the block, seeing an old payphone, and I practically sprinted to it. Thankful to find it still working, covered in obscene graffiti, but still working, I pulled out the playbill, praying he would pick up. Enough for one call, I had one shot.

I placed in my coins, and picked up the receiver, before typing in the numbers, on the tarnished keypad.

"Come on, come on, please." I whispered as the rings  began to draw out, as I felt my heart sink with every new tone. I sighed and was about to put the receiver back, when I heard the other line click, catching my attention.

"Hello?" A very groggy sounding voice said from the other line.

"Hi Mr. Faist?" I chattered. "It's the girl from the theatre earlier, Magnolia? I never told you my name but it's me." I said.

"What?" He asked sounding tired, and I felt extremely guilty for probably waking him up. "Oh yeah, I remember you, is everything okay?"

"I mean, I'm stuck outside, and I'm a little cold, just thought I would call." I said quietly.

"Outside?" He asked. "Its twenty degrees and snowing. You can't stay outside. Where are you?"

"I'm," I paused looking at the sign on the corner next to the payphone. "On 66th street?"

"Okay, someone will be there soon, just go under a storefront or something, it's too cold." He instructed and I felt relief fly through me.

"Okay. Thank you, really thank you so much." I said quickly.

"Yeah, no problem." He said hanging up, and I ran under the nearest shop front, staying out of the snow.

* * *

"Hey!" A car rolled up next to the curb I was sitting at, and a man in the front seat called out. "Are you the person Mike made me wake up for?"

"I'm sorry?" I called out confused.

"Yeah me too." He replied. "Get in."

"How do I know I can trust you?" I replied, cautiously stepping towards the car.

"I think anything is better than freezing to death on the stoop of a weed shop." He replied.

"Fair enough." I sighed and walked up to the car. "So front seat, back seat?"

"Seeing as my back seat is currently filled with recycling bins, I'd say front." He sighed.

I climbed in the front seat and he immediately sped off.

"Thank you." I said quietly, and he replied with a grunt.

"Well, spoiled little Faist would've picked you up but 'it's New York City, I don't need a car! I can walk everywhere! I'm not going to destroy the environment' that pretentious-" he took a deep breath. "Sorry. Hi. It's late. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Cold." I replied. "You're Will Roland." I replied.

"As you live and breathe." He nodded.

"I'm sorry you had to get up." I said. "It's," I looked at the clock. "Midnight and that's rude for me to call. In hindsight I should've waited until the morning. I'm sorry."

"You would've frozen. It's fine. Everyone needs a good toss up of their sleep schedule once in a while. Fuels my caffeine addiction." He shrugged. "By the way, why the hell are you on the front porch a weed shop at midnight by yourself in New York City?"

"It's a long story." I grunted.

"Got it." He nodded. "So, you're staying with Mike for now?"

"I guess." I shrugged.

"Got it." He replied. "Not chatty?"

"Not when I'm being interrogated." I replied.

"Hey I'm just trying to get to know you." He said defensively.

"You're right." I sighed shoving my head in my hands. "God. I'm meeting a person who I hold on the highest respect and I'm sitting here like a spoiled brat."

"You have some right to be." He shrugged. "I mean I don't really know what happened to you but it's clearly pretty traumatizing."

"Yep. Pretty traumatizing..." I nodded watching the shops slowly pass by. 

I'm back bitches. 

See you in another three months.