Silent. Part 20

I was surprised at how little emotion I experienced, saying all that out loud for the very first time. If anything, I felt relief...like I was releasing the a.s.shole that was Hector from my life. I didn't owe him anything anymore. He might've put a roof over my head for six years, but where the f.u.c.k was that roof now?

Suzie's eyes were red. She stroked my hand with her thumb. "Thank you, Alex," she whispered. "Thank you for sharing that with me. It was incredibly brave of you."

I shook my head. "But you already knew, didn't you."

"That's not the point. It was your story to tell. And now that it's out, I hope you'll come to know...you didn't deserve any of that. None of it was your fault. You were-are-a child, and it's the adults in your life who've let you down."

The adults adults, plural. I had lots of excuses for my mom, and I knew I loved her, but deep down, beneath that...

"Can you answer my other question now?" Suzie interrupted in the nick of time.

"What?" I blinked at her, confused.

"About Seb. About how you feel toward him."

f.u.c.k. After all that, she was still on about Seb? She had to have more than a hunch, then. What if she'd seen that stupid kiss?

And why hadn't that little twerp warned me she was nearby? Maybe he was off his game. I f.u.c.king was, obviously.

Suzie stood. She walked over to a filing cabinet and shuffled through the folders, then pulled out something and returned to her spot in front of me.

"I thought you could look over some of this reading material...see if it answers any questions you might be having."

She handed me a pamphlet, and the percussive beat of my heart came to an abrupt stop.

Lesbian, Gay, Bi, Transs.e.xual and Questioning Youth I read the t.i.tle several times, and each terrifying pa.s.s of my eyes added more nails clawing at my painfully-still chest, willing me to scream or cry or run for my life.

This was it. I was exposed. Revealed. Naked.

As if to mock me, smiling faces of all racial groups stared up from the glossy paper, complete with a kid in a freaking wheelchair. How the f.u.c.k could they be so happy? Didn't they know what this meant? My deepest secret-deeper than the drugs or the dealing or the f.u.c.ked-up family-uncovered for the whole world to see.

"If you are having a...different kind of feeling for Seb, I want you to know, there's nothing wrong with you."

I couldn't breathe. My field of vision narrowed on the pamphlet, the bright colors swimming out from the sea of murky brown and gray around them.

"But remember that Seb is...is special. And the kinds of feelings you might be having, well, you know it's important to make certain they can be reciprocated-"

A thump in my heart so loud I was sure it could be heard several cubicles away brought me back to life. I leapt up and crushed the pamphlet with all the force I wanted to use on myself for my stupidity.

"Shut the f.u.c.k up! I don't need your d.a.m.n advice! I already know what I am, but I'm not a f.u.c.king pervert! Seb is my friend, nothing more!"

I raised my fist in front of me and Suzie cowered back, her plump rear knocking a bottle of whiteout off the desk.

"A-alex," she stuttered.

"f.u.c.k you, b.i.t.c.h. If Eleanor calls, tell her I'll be waiting outside."

By the time I burst out the front doors, my chest was rising and falling in strange, uneven jerks, like my body had forgotten how to breathe. It wasn't until a gust of wind came by that I realized it was because I was crying. A few tears had slipped down my face, their trails now cooled by the evening air. I rubbed them away with the fist that still held the pamphlet, my hand shaking wildly against my skin.

Who the f.u.c.k did she think she was? Guessing s.h.i.+t about my life and giving me f.u.c.king reading material reading material, like a couple of paragraphs would fix all my problems. I uncurled the paper, still trembling, and glanced one last time at the posed multicolored happiness.

Then I tore the d.a.m.n thing in half, straight through the face of some Latina lesbian. I doubled the remains over and ripped them again. And then again. Gripped by the need to destroy each and every smile, I kept working until only shreds were left, watching with satisfaction as the little rainbow pieces fluttered down to the dirty street below.

When it was all over, I was sure of one thing.

It was time to pack my bags and run.

Chapter 14: High School Dropout.

Back at Eleanor and Greg's, I hurried into my room to take stock of my belongings. I didn't know if Suzie would tell them what she'd discovered, or if that would change things at all, but I still had a crus.h.i.+ng sensation in my chest that told me I had to act fast.

The only things I owned were my backpack, the few notebooks and pencils inside, and the clothes I'd arrived in-not much to start a life on. I didn't really want to rip the Richards off, but a few pairs of underwear and some of Dylan's old t-s.h.i.+rts wouldn't be missed, so I rolled those up and stuffed them in my bag as well. And the shoes...those were mine, right? After all, a gift was a gift.

Eleanor's gentle knock interrupted me. "Alex? Would you like to come down for dinner? Magda made us some shepherd's pie before she left work yesterday."

I didn't know what that was, but the bigger issue was whether I wanted to break my grouchy streak by joining them. Would that tip them off that something was up, or set them more at ease?

"Alex?"

I finally let my stomach decide. Whatever shepherd's pie was, it was probably a decent meal, and I had no way of knowing when my next one of those would be.

"Yeah. Just a minute." I shoved my backpack under the bed.

Eleanor beamed at me when I opened the door. "Oh, and Suzie wanted you to have this." She handed me a DCFS business card with an extension number scribbled across the back. "In case you ever wanted to talk with her about anything."

I crushed it into my pocket, my skin flas.h.i.+ng hot and then cold. "Sure. Whatever."

Still smiling, Eleanor gestured for me to follow her down the stairs. "Table's all set. Let's go eat!"

Greg was less enthusiastic about my appearance at dinner. He'd barely said two words to me since I'd arrived, and I had a feeling he'd been dragged into this whole fostering thing by his do-gooder wife.

"Did you hear the Bentley's are planning some sort of charity event? I forgot what it was for," he remarked to Eleanor over the dish of meat, veggies, and potatoes. I didn't see how that was pie, but it tasted good enough.

Eleanor was fixated on me, and she waved him off with a quick nod. "Alex and I are going to stop by the school on Monday to pick up his home study packet...unless you've decided to go back to Mid City? Suzie said you hadn't quite resolved that."

"Um..." I swallowed a lump of mashed potatoes. "We can go pick it up."

"All right. And did you finish the last week's packet? We're supposed to turn it in to that teacher...what was her name? Ms. Cranfield?"

She was pretty much talking to herself, so I just shrugged.

Greg made a harrumph sound. "You should finish it."

"Sure. I'll do it tonight." No sense in upsetting them now.

Practically swooning at my obedience, Eleanor stumbled to her feet. "I think we should have a special dessert. I'm going to go get that ice cream cake that's in the freezer."

She returned with a blue-frosted cake and a fancy silver serving knife. "I was saving this for tomorrow-oh, that's right! I haven't told you!"

I raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Dylan is coming by! I'm sure he'll be excited to meet you. Maybe you boys could hang out...go to the movies or something. Won't that be nice?"

A large slice of cake was placed in front of me, and I stuck my fork in to take a bite before answering. I didn't feel bad for what I was about to do. They were nice people, but they already had their picture-perfect family to go with their picture-perfect house.

They didn't need me. And I didn't need them.

"Sure. Sounds great."

I stared at the green-glowing clock numbers that night, so anxious I had to keep reminding myself to blink. At around eleven, the sounds of an active household stopped and I was left with the crickets. I'd never appreciated their shrill song as much as I did then, and I listened to it for about an hour before the agony of waiting got to be too much.

Still fully dressed, I rose from my bed and quietly slung my backpack over my shoulder. I kept my shoes off so my footsteps would be softer as I tiptoed across the room. My door slid open with a tiny squeak, and I froze for a moment, counting ten seconds of complete silence before continuing down the hallway. Creeping along the wall, I hid in shadows until I reached the stairs.

Those I took like a tightrope, placing one foot directly in front of the other, straight down the middle. Even though the carpeted steps creaked a lot less than Ms. Loretta's wooden ones, I didn't want to take any chances. Avoiding the more trafficked spots meant only the whisper of my swis.h.i.+ng jeans could be heard as I pressed forward.

At the landing, I sat down under the chandelier and pulled on my shoes. I secured the laces several times, determined not to let my footwear f.u.c.k up my escape this time. Once I was satisfied I'd be able to make a run for it if I had to, I stood and cautiously made my way toward the front door.

My fingers poised on the handle, I took a deep breath, waiting for any last minute doubts.

None came. This was almost too easy. I could've done this at any moment, here or at Ms. Loretta's, if I'd wanted to.

But I hadn't.

I hadn't because I'd had Seb. He'd given me a reason to stick around in that strange place. Somehow talking and sharing my secrets with him had made me feel like I wasn't so lost. But without him, I was just a pathetic little foster child, letting a system boss me around. No friends, no family. Alone, I was a victim. victim.

I pushed back the deadbolt in a sudden rush and flung open the door. A gust of floral-scented wind hit my face, and the unfamiliar smell filled my nostrils, reminding me of how far I was from home. Not that we didn't have flowers in Watts, but there weren't as many, and there were other, less appealing smells that could sometimes overpower them.

But it didn't matter, because home was home home. And the breeze along my skin meant I'd left my fancy prison behind, hoping for the chance things could return to normal-my normal-once again. normal-once again.

A twelve-foot high hedge woven around a fence and the mighty iron gate loomed in front of me, blocking my escape. That meant I was stuck with the hedge. Sure, I'd f.u.c.k it up a bit as I went, but it'd be nothing their gardener couldn't fix.

I shoved my foot in to get to the fence, grabbed some of the leafy clumps, and pulled myself up. The green bristles attacked my face as I jostled them, so I closed my eyes and shut my mouth, heading up through the foliage by feel alone. One branch snapped back and caught me in the cheek, but I didn't stop to check the wound. Grasping the top of the fence, I threw myself over and then dropped down the rest of the way. I hit the street with a thud and toppled back onto my a.s.s, but I barely felt the impact. I was much too high off my accomplishment.

No more answering to strangers. No more letting Suzie dictate where I went and what I could do and who I could see. No more feeling small and insignificant.

I was my own man now.

After about thirty minutes, I found my way out of the maze of hills that was Bel Air. Lights and noise greeted me on Westwood Boulevard, and another swell of confidence hit me. I'd reached city city-maybe not my city, but it meant I was that much closer.

I was right near a college-UCLA from the looks of b.u.mper stickers on pa.s.sing SUVs-and even though it was one in the morning, the place was alive. Girls in short shorts and tight tank tops traveled together in little packs, their high-pitched laughter filling the air. There were plenty of guys, too, looking casual in jeans and t-s.h.i.+rts, hands in pockets as they overlooked their domain.

Some of my teachers-the smarter ones-had tried to convince us that college was the place to be because it was fun. fun. It sort of looked like they'd been telling the truth. I pa.s.sed a line of people waiting for ice cream cookie sandwiches, the scent of alcohol floating all around them. A blonde with a bobbing ponytail was blasting a song on her cellphone, swaying drunkenly on the sidewalk to the delight of her friends. A few feet in front of her, a tiny Asian girl was busy sticking her tongue down the throat of a white guy about a foot taller than her. He hunched over awkwardly to meet her mouth, but didn't seem too disturbed. It sort of looked like they'd been telling the truth. I pa.s.sed a line of people waiting for ice cream cookie sandwiches, the scent of alcohol floating all around them. A blonde with a bobbing ponytail was blasting a song on her cellphone, swaying drunkenly on the sidewalk to the delight of her friends. A few feet in front of her, a tiny Asian girl was busy sticking her tongue down the throat of a white guy about a foot taller than her. He hunched over awkwardly to meet her mouth, but didn't seem too disturbed.

Partying late into the night while still doing the the right thing right thing and going to college? Seemed like a pretty good deal, actually. and going to college? Seemed like a pretty good deal, actually.

Not that I'd ever get the chance. Even if I'd wanted it. I'd already realized that consequence of running away, but I honestly hadn't given it much thought.

No more school. Not unless I got a fake ID and enrolled myself somewhere, and that was about as likely as me ever getting into college in the first place.

So I was a high school dropout. Kind of cliche...but I'd always had a sneaking suspicion that was where I was headed anyway.

The college activity died down as I headed south, the sounds of happy partygoers fading to just the murmur of excitement. Less people were on the streets, and I started to feel out of place walking around by myself. I quickly retreated to the shadows, ducking from one storefront to another, until I arrived at the next major crossroad.

And there, on Wils.h.i.+re Boulevard, I found my people.

They were at the bus stop, many of them still dressed in their cleaning uniforms. Must've been the night s.h.i.+ft for some of the huge office buildings I could make out down the street. They crowded around the metro sign, occasionally checking the time, occasionally yawning with spent, weary faces.

Maybe they weren't laughing and dancing in the street and having the time of their lives, but their presence put me more at ease than any college kid ever could. In the sea of brown, I could easily blend in, and chances were whatever buses they were waiting for could take me where I needed to go.

I approached an older woman who was clutching a worn gray purse to her chest.

"Excuse me, how much is the bus here?"

"One feefty," she replied in a thick accent.

"Can I borrow that? I'm trying to get home."

She immediately turned away from me and dug her way deeper into the crowd, holding onto her purse for dear life.

d.a.m.n. Now why hadn't I thought to steal the measly bus fare in advance? It certainly wasn't grand theft, and it would've been easier than hitchhiking.

I weighed my options, glancing at the map on the little gla.s.s enclosure by the bench. A highlighted route headed straight to South LA caught my eye, and I made my decision. I couldn't let this good an opportunity go by.

After backtracking a few blocks to the ice cream shop, I set my sights on the little Asian girl. She was holding hands with the guy now, resting her head against his arm. I pulled my nervously clenched fists out of my pockets and put on my most innocent expression, walking straight for them.

"Excuse me, but do you maybe have a dollar fifty? I'm trying to get bus fare to go home."

The girl automatically backed up against her towering boyfriend, like I might try to s.n.a.t.c.h the money by force. But then she took a second look at me, probably to guess my age, and her expression softened.

"Why're you out so late?" she asked.

"My friends brought me here for a party, but I didn't like it and I want to go home."

I was glad to see my lying abilities were still intact after my f.u.c.k ups with Suzie. Maybe I just needed to keep my mind focused-by keeping thoughts of mysterious blond boys out of it.

She looked up at her boyfriend, craning her neck to catch his eye. "You have any cash, Brent?"

Brent gave her a smile, but me a suspicious glare. Still, the wallet appeared and he fished out a couple dollars so he could look honorable in front of his girl.

I'd been counting on that.