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This isn’t the first time I’ve tried to escape from my house. I do it every time the yelling becomes too much. I don’t know why my parents can’t just get along, or better yet, why they don’t get divorced.
I trudge through the grass, enjoying the feel of the blades of grass between my toes and pace, trying to release all this energy and resentment building up inside me. The air is warm and fresh. It feels good to inhale, and the quiet releases the tension in my body. I’m obviously not getting too far without shoes. I finally lift my head and glance at my neighbor’s house. A girl standing on the front porch watches me with her head tilted to the side. It dawns on me she watched me escape through my window. I smile.
She smiles back, and it hits me in the center of my chest.
She’s pretty.
I walk over to her. I’ve known my neighbors since I was a small boy. Tom and Mary Patterson don’t have kids. They like to keep to themselves and aren’t the friendliest. They inherited the house from Tom’s mother when she passed. My parents like to say they don’t belong in this neighborhood. My mom always complains they are unemployed, good-for-nothing people.
“What’s up?” I ask the girl, looking back over my shoulder. The last thing I need is for my mom to walk out of the house and embarrass me.
“Not much,” she answers.
“Are you visiting the Pattersons?” I ask because I’ve never seen a guest enter their home in all these years.
The girl looks about my age.
“I wouldn’t call it visiting. They’re my new foster parents,” she explains.
It takes me a moment to understand what she means.
“I’m Liam, by the way,” I say, placing my hands in the pocket of my basketball shorts. I’m kind of grateful for the pockets because this girl is very pretty, and it makes me feel fidgety.
“Skylar,” she replies with a smile that kind of takes my breath. Her auburn hair is pin-straight and falls down her shoulders covering her chest. Her green eyes are warm, and her lips have a natural reddish tinge. “I saw you escaping. What are you escaping from?”
I look back at my house. My parents don’t like for me and David to air our family’s dirty laundry. I look back at her.What the hell. “My parents are fighting.”
“How bad does it get?” she asks, and her question makes my stomach sink. If she is a foster child, it means she doesn’t have parents, or she’s been taken away from them or something like that. It happened on a show I used to watch where the kid was abused and put in foster care.
“They just like to scream is all. I needed quiet,” I clarify.
“Quiet is good. My mom is an addict, if you’re wondering. That’s why I’ve been placed here. The Pattersons seem all right. What can you tell me about them?” she asks.
“Not much, honestly. We don’t really interact with them much, but they seem like okay people.”
Her brow furrows, and her face scrunches. “How long have you lived beside them?”
“I’d say about nine years,” I reply, rocking back on my heels.
“And you don’t know your neighbors?” she asks with surprise lacing her tone.
“They aren’t the type of people you get to know. They’re different.”
“Mary told me her husband lost his job. That’s why they took me in. They get money every month for me,” she explains.
“Crap, that sounds bad,” I reply, and then I realize I just voiced my thoughts out loud.
Skylar laughs. “That isn’t bad. My mom used to get real nasty and hit me. That’s bad. The Pattersons seem like they won’t hurt a fly.”
“Sorry. I’m feeling a little out of my element,” I admit.
“Why?” Skylar asks. She isn’t like most girls at school. They usually just flirt with the boys, and we just hang out and talk about stuff that doesn’t matter. Skylar gets to the point. There doesn’t seem to be any bullshit with her.
I run my hands through my hair. “You’re different from girls at school.”
“Oh no, seriously? I probably have to go to the same school as you. Will it be hard for me to make friends there?” Her green eyes are round and startled.
“Sorry.” I lift my hand. “Not what I meant. Just the girls at school are fake. You’ll see what I mean. I’m sure you’ll be fine in the friend department. I can see the boys liking you.”
