Foster Kid

4.

I woke up the next morning to rain beating against my window. Yay.

My body shivers, and my bedroom is oddly cold. I pry my eyes open, happy to see the sun isn't rising on my face. I lay there for about two more minutes, then get out of bed.

I undress out of my pajamas and dress into some black PINK sweatpants with my Iowan Hawkeyes shirt my cousin left here when they came over for Christmas last year. 

That's another thing about the foster kid thing, I have to change every morning to go downstairs and get breakfast. 

I check myself in the mirror. I leave my french braid in, loose baby hairs falling on my forehead. Blood rushes to my head, and I fall back on the bed. "Jesus Christ..." I say, rubbing my head. 

I hear a giggle. My eyes open, direction towards the door. I see an eye glaring at me, but then it goes, and I hear footsteps. Like I said, privacy? He could've been watching me while I was getting changed. Suddenly I felt the need to lock my door.

I actually exit my bedroom, closing my door the whole way just so I know Alex doesn't go in there. Proud of myself for not falling down the first flight of stairs, I completely jinxed myself and tripped up on the second. 

My parents don't even bother asking if I'm okay. They just keep making breakfast. Alex, who is sitting in the family living room, is wide eyed and speechless. I've pretty much become numb to my falls, so I just laugh.

And then I can't stop laughing. "You.... you looked l-l-like you thought I died!" I laugh, sitting on the couch next to him. He's blushing really horribly, and I stop laughing as I see he's done with it. I let out a sigh. Once I can catch my breath, I whisper to him.

"It happes a lot. I fall down the stairs everyday." He looks at me like I'm some sort of crazy old lady who just started breakn dancing. "Everyday? Doesn't that hurt?" He's now smiling, and I laugh. "It used to. Not anymore." 

We sit in silence watching Spongebob for about five minutes, until I decide to go eat breakfast. "Would you like some eggs?" My dad asks with a mouthful. I give him an 'are you kidding me' look. "Dad, I'm allergic to eggs." He just stares into the distnace for a second. "Oh." 

I reach into the cupboard to get my favortie of all breakfasts. That's right, an oreo poptart. *Angel playing the harmonica in the distance.*

Then I grab a juice box and sit down at the counter.

My mom touches my hand. "Deenie, I was thinking that you could take Alex with you and Taysha today while you're going who knows where." Oh God no. Take Alex with me to Barnes and Noble while Taysha and I sit and talk about girl stuff and buy books? I don't think so.

As if on que, I get a text from Taysha. I grab my phone off the counter and look at the text.

Tayshie Poo: Can I take a rain check? Get it, rain? Anyway, God forbid anyone tells me it's my aunts funeral today. Sorry. xoxo

Me: That's incredibly sad. It's okay. Have fun.

I feel bad for Taysha. She had four aunts, and now she only has one left. Her mom has brain cancer, and her dad can hardly pay the bills. It's a tradgedy that she's always going to funerals.

She told me brain cancer runs in the family, and that she feels dirty everyday. She says she can feel the cancer building up in her, and I know she's joking, but under that she's honestly scared to death.

"Can't. Taysha just backed out." My parents look at eachother. "Well, okay then. We have a meeting to go to, so I guess just... hang or whatever," my mom says, kissing me on the cheek. My dad gets up, kissing me on the forehead. "Love you," they say in unison. "Love you too," I say, responding truthfully. Even though it feels like they don't love me, I can't help but feel an unavoidable love towards them.

When I'm done with breakfast, I walk upstairs to my lounge that I now share. 

I stare at the xBox 360 like it's a threat.

You got this, Deen.

I grab Just Dance Four. Here we go. I set up the song 'I Whip My Hair' and set my level for easy.

The song starts, and I wait for my que to start dancing. I know I'm going to fail horribly, but what else to do on a rainy day?

The fear of Alex walking in comes to me. I put it in the back of my mind, thinking only my strategy.

Unfortunately in dance, you're not supposed to strategize.

I start of with stepping side to side, which quickly turns into the chicken pecker. And then that turns into something I can't even describe. I'm losing, and I know it. I'm a horrible dancer, but I'm diseased with competitiveness. 

Once the song is over, I lay on the couch, trying to catch my breath. 

I hear clapping. Oh shit. 

I look up to see Alex, smirking away. "Bravo," he says, and I can tell that his laugh is going to break loose at any moment. Something thrives in me. Oh no, competitiveness.

"You wanna go?" I ask.

"Bring it," he says.

a/n sorry for the shortest chapter ever. I always want to end on some sort of cliff hanger, and that leaves me pageless