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MYSTIC FALLS, VIRGINIA
"Lena, I swear to God."Laughter fills the air as Landon scoffs at my random actions. My hair between my nose and my upper lip creates a faux mustache; he gives a small smile, telling me he's not that annoyed.
My smile causes my hair to fall off my face, letting the black strands fall onto my shoulder. "Don't be such a downer." I giggle, nudging his side.
Landon rolls his eyes, the smile still on his face. "Come on, Lena, we gotta get going." He says, draining the humor out of the conversation. "Phil's going to be pissed if we're late." Landon puts a red headphones in his ear, walking away from me. I huff, annoyed by his statement. He was right, our foster dad, Phil, would be mad. I mean, he's mad at almost anything. Take a cookie from the jar; GROUNDED! Don't finish eating dinner; GROUNDED! Got a 79.8% instead of an 80% on a test; GROUNDED! Got home at 8:03 when curfew is 8:00; GROUNDED!
I get grounded a lot.
Also; who names their kid Phil?
I'm cut off by my thoughts at Landon shouting my name. "Let's go!" I shake my head, as if that will help clear whatever going on inside it, before running after him.
By the time we get home, it's 5:37 in the afternoon. "Crap." I mutter. We were supposed to be home by 5:30. Landon sends me a nervous look, while I adjust my silver necklace.
We were screwed, and we knew it. My hand reaches for the gold handle; half expecting it to open and whack me in the face. The wooden door creaks loudly through the entrance of the small home. The cracked walls seem like their closing in on us, the panic rising in our chests. Landon steps in behind me, looking around for any sign of Phil, or his wife.
"Maybe they're gone." My brother whispers in my ear. The neck on the back of my hair stands straight up as the sound of footsteps pounding through the first floor. I wince slightly, prepared to hear Phil's booming voice.
"Lena! Landon! Thank goodness you're home!" The polite voice causes us both to open our eyes. It's Phil's wife, Nina. Ninas short, curly blond hair bounces as she walks over. She's a curvier woman, but younger than Phil by a lot of years. She's probably the one who came up with the idea of fostering children. She typically wears a nice flowy dress, or a skirt, but today she's wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. Nina's eyes are glossy, as if she's refraining from saying something, or doing something. "Your father is sleeping right now. He won't know you were late." She sends us both a warm smile, turning on her heal and walking back in the direction she came from.
