Page 29 of A Foster Fling
“I didn’t even get to ask you before you rudely interrupted me. And I brought it up because you asked, because it’s something I really want to do again. It’s only for a few weeks. He will age out soon and then will be placed elsewhere.”
“I’ll walk to Derek’s.” I open the car door and get out.
“Cole!” Mom calls out, “Cole, get back in the car!” The light turns green and the car behind her honks, forcing her to pull away unwillingly.
Stuffing my hands into my hoodie, I tread towards Derek’s with a newfound anger planted in my soul.
I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.
——
“Why does it matter?” Derek asks, rolling a joint before placing it in his mouth and gliding it across his tongue. “I mean, you leave in less than two months. You won’t even be around.”
“Because she wants to do it while I’m still here. She can do whatever the fuck she wants when I’m gone, but while I’m here, I’d rather it just be us in the house. It’s been that way since Gabe died and the last foster kid was replaced after the fact.”
“She’s a grown ass woman, dude, she can do whatever the fuck she wants now—with or without you here.” Derek points out.
“Whatever,” I reply bitterly. Derek lights the joint. The smoke fills the room shortly after. “I’m gonna head home, I’ve gotta start packing.”
“Alright, man. Come by tomorrow. Mags has a match she needs to practice for, and I figured we could help her since the parents are out of town for the weekend.”
I nod. “Yeah. I’ll swing by.”
I thought by the time I left here, I’d feel better, but I don’t.
My heart still aches, my anger is still raging, and I’m starting to believe more strongly what I’ve thought for a long time. That I don’t matter.
Not like they do they
Chapter Three
Cole
Skaters pass by me and Derek as we sit on the outer edge of the park, leaned against the fence that surrounds the cemented haven for skaters. The sun beats down on the sea of bodies that flow throw the wind, four wheels below them as they do flip kicks and ollies, and ride down the half-pipes and bowls.
After I left his place last night, I went home with every intention of talking to my mom about her wanting to foster again. If she would just wait until I leave, I’ll be okay with it. I won’t have to feel like I’m not a good enough child for her. She was asleep by the time I got there, and I was exhausted, so I opened a new bottle of Calvert, trying like hell to subdue my emotions.
It’s getting old.
I want to feel something new for a change. I want for my mind to stop basking in darkness. I try. Fuck, I try, but every damn day seems to be the same.
I go to bed shit-faced, drunkenly convinced tomorrow will be different, that I will be better, and life will be enjoyable again.
Then the sun comes up and the hurt returns.
It’s a never-ending cycle of despair and loneliness.
“What time does Mags need us to practice?” I ask. I hate that their parents are never around to help them out with shit like this. Maggie is still young, and she deserves to make it out of this life with some sense of happiness and an idea of what it means to actually be a family.
“She’s at her friend’s house right now, so we got a few before we have to dip. Once we leave here, we’ll swing by and pick her up,” Derek says, getting to his feet and grabbing his board.
He places his foot onto his board and takes off. He passes by the other skaters, grinding the bars as he goes. As I watch him skate effortlessly around the park, my phone chimes, taking my attention off him for a brief second.
Mom: I’m sorry about yesterday, just know I love you, my sweet boy. I’ll talk to you when you get home.
Rolling my eyes, I put my phone into my bag and get to my feet. She hasn’t called me that since Gabe’s funeral.
Grabbing my board, I place it beneath my left foot and take off. When I’m out here, it feels like I’m the only one in the world. Everything else fades away and nothing matters except me and the pavement. Skating was something Gabe and I did together. When he wasn’t making me feel like a nuisance, he was teaching me how to skate. He taught me how to fall, how to get back up, and how to not take shit from anyone out here. It was the one thing we had in common that kept us connected. Skating now keeps me close to him, even though he couldn’t be further away.