August 10th, 2023

The trees and houses rolled past the car window in a colorful blur, forcing my eyes to follow them left to right. I leaned in the seat, my nose taking in the familiar, minty scent of Mr. Brian’s car.

“Did you sleep okay?” Mr. Brian suddenly asked me.

I thought it was weird for him to suddenly ask about my sleep like that, but I answered anyway. “Uh… yeah. I guess.”

“Did you eat?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“What did you eat?”

I shrugged. “I dunno. Food.”

A pause.

“What kind of food?”

“Why do you care?” I snapped.

Used to my usual attitude, he sighed. “Because I care.”

“Whatever,” was all I could say.

The car slowed to a stop at a red light. He glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “Diana, I’m trying. Okay? But if you’re going to go in with that attitude-” he started.

“Who cares about my attitude? It doesn’t make a difference.”

“Yes, it does. I have high hopes for this family.”

“Like you did for the last one? And the one before that? And the one before-”

“This one’s different, I promise.” A hint of desperation laced his voice.

I knew he meant well, but after trial and error for 12 years, I was getting pretty sick of the whole procedure. “You don’t have to worry about my ‘attitude’,” I told him. “I’ll smile, be polite. I’ll act like you want me to. But stop trying to convince me to be optimistic.”

The light turned green. He turned left towards the café.

“I’m sorry, Diana. I… I really want you to be happy is all.” He chuckled humorlessly. “If I could adopt you myself, I would.”

I looked at him again, this time with shock. He never said anything like that before. “You mean that?” I asked.

He parked and turned off the car. He turned to look at me from the driver’s seat. “Of course I mean it. I know I’ve failed you time and time again, and I’m truly sorry. Unfortunately, the decisions aren’t all left up to me. Just know I really am doing my best.”

Mr. Brian was the caseworker I trusted the most. I was closest to him out of everyone else. But he’d never been this… open? I wasn’t sure how to describe it.

I smiled a bit, genuinely. “Okay.”

He smiled back at me. “Okay.”

We got out of the car and headed up to the café. It wasn’t common for me to meet the family before moving in with them, so I wondered how this would go.

It didn’t matter how many times I’d moved, how many doors would open and reveal a new face— I was always scared. Always anticipating something bad.

22 placements in total. 11 years and 6 months since I was taken out of my aunt’s and put into the system. But it felt like twice the amount.

Step one, assess their appearance.

Step two, watch their expressions.

Step three…

We entered and walked up to a booth for four. A couple sat together, talking.

“Mr. and Mrs. Field?” Mr. Brian said. Both glanced at us and rose from their seats.

Family number 23.

Over the years, I’d learned when to stand up with my fists clenched, and when to duck my head in submission… most of the time. I also knew who was gullible enough to believe me when I lied my way out of a situation I didn’t like. But to know everything, I needed to get as much as I could out of the first meeting.

Step one: assess their appearance.

Don’t judge a book by its cover, they’d say, but in this case, covers were sometimes important. It was the first impression. And soon, I’d know whether they’d stick to that impression or do a 180 the minute I stepped through their front door.

The woman was pretty. She had wavy, light blond hair like mine. Her eyes were bright green, like the trees were in the summer. The man had dirty blond hair and deep ocean-blue eyes. They wore business-casual clothing; what one would wear to a meeting in the morning. Maybe they worked in an office or a company.

They looked nice. Didn’t mean they were nice. But in terms of appearance, they didn’t seem dangerous.

In fact… they reminded me of someone. I couldn’t place who. I was sure I’d never seen them in my life. Maybe I’d seen them around the area?

Step two: watch their expressions.

This was when they felt… off.

They had no fake smile, no lustful stare, no cruel glint in their eyes. There wasn’t hesitance or signs of inexperience. I could sense kindness and genuineness, but something was… weird. They were pale, their eyes were wide, and their mouths were half-open, as if they’d seen a ghost.

I self-consciously patted my hair down. Or was it my makeup? My bruises were probably still visible— I’d only left the Masons’ a week ago… after two years with them.

My nervous habit seemed to wake them up. They blinked and gave us embarrassed smiles.

“Is everything all right?” Mr. Brian asked.

“Oh, um, yes. We’re sorry.” The woman, Mrs. Field, motioned for us to sit.

“I’d like to present Diana Watson,” Mr. Brian said, patting my shoulder. “Diana, these are Susan and Davis Field. They’ve agreed to take you in for at least six months… if not more.” He smiled. “How about you tell Diana who you are and what she should expect?” he prodded them.

Mrs. Field nodded and turned to me with a genuine smile. This completed step two; she didn’t ignore me, pretending I wasn’t there. She didn’t immediately double-check if they could give me back when they wanted to. She was talking directly to me. That was a good sign.

But there was still that little glint in their eyes…

It was indescribable. That was rare for me. I was used to knowing little glances, twitches, and whatnot. What was this?

Step three: listen to them carefully.

“Diana, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I plastered on a smile. “Likewise, Mrs. Field.”

“Oh, you can call us Davis and Susan, if you want,” said Mr. Field. “A first-name basis is alright with us. Unless you’re not comfortable?”

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I blinked, a bit surprised, and glanced at Mr. Brian. He subtly nodded and smiled. He had that look— the ‘I told you so’. He hardly ever got to say that, so I let him whenever he got the chance, despite how annoying his smugness was.

“Uh… yeah, sure.” I cleared my throat. “I’m comfortable, Mist- I mean, Davis.”

He chuckled lightly with a warm smile, which spread to me. The mood and tension lightened just a bit.

“Well, anyway, we wanted to assure you that you’ll be happy with us,” Mrs. Field— Susan— continued for him. “You’ll also be around people your age. We have four sons.”

I raised my brows. “Four… sons?”

“Our oldest is Kyle,” said Davis, “who’s 20; then there’s Jack, who’s 19; Tommy is our 18-year old; and Harry is our youngest at 17.”

“All one year apart?” I quirked a brow.

“Yeah… we’ve got a story.” Susan laughed. My ears perked up at the slight falter in her laughter. It was just a lilt in her voice, barely audible.

Below the table, I gave Mr. Brian a light kick on his shin. He inhaled, shifting in his seat. Four sons? Four sons?! Was he serious?

“Now, how about you tell us about you?” Davis asked. “We’d like to know everything about you, all the way down to your favorite ice cream flavor.”

They really seemed… nice. Actually nice. I hadn’t met a family like this in so long…

I smiled again, this time sincerely. I didn’t let my guard down, though. It could be a false sense of security.

It was a nice chat. They peppered me with all sorts of questions: what my favorite color was, favorite food, what kind of room I would like.

Step four and step five would have to wait until I moved in with them on Tuesday. In the meanwhile, I’d moved in with a temp; an old, handicapped woman named Mrs. Mervin. She was nice to me, like a sweet old grandma. I’d been taking care of her the past few days.

After the meeting, we returned to the car, the sun already setting. I didn’t even realize how much time had passed. It was such a pleasant conversation.

“You feel good?” Mr. Brian asked me.

Slowly, I nodded. “Yeah. I feel good.”

“I’m sorry for not telling you about their sons. I knew you wouldn’t want to even meet them if I told you, so…”

“It’s fine. I guess… there just aren’t many options.”

“We’ve evaluated them as carefully as we could. Those boys won’t hurt you. I promise.”

I held up my hand as I got in the car. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

~~~

August 15th, 2023

I hauled my two bags out of Mrs. Mervin’s home. Susan and Davis were in the car out front. Susan got out and walked up to me. “You need a hand?”

“Uh… yeah, just with these, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t.” She glanced down at the trash bags I gave her, her smile wavering. “Do you have anything else?”

“Nope, this is it.” I hoisted my old backpack a bit higher. The straps were pretty worn out.

She glanced at the bags again before nodding and taking them to the car. I knew what she was thinking. As one of my other caseworkers said, the trash bags were good enough.

I got in the backseat after putting my things in the trunk. As we drove away, I glanced back at Mrs. Mervin’s little house.

No turning back now.

“Diana, we weren’t sure if you had dinner yet,” Susan said. “We usually have dinner a bit earlier, but if you’re hungry, we can cook you a good meal. It’s pretty late, so-”

“Oh, it’s good, Susan. I ate just before you came, so I’m not hungry. Thank you.”

“Um, also, we still have a few last-minute things to add to your room, so you won’t be able to go in right away… you could spend time getting to know our sons in the meantime. That is, if you want. If you’re comfortable.”

I hesitated, but nodded. “Uh, sure. Yeah, I’d like to meet them, talk with them.”

“Susan.” I could see Davis glance at his wife through the rearview mirror.

“And we could give you a little tour of the house. It’s not that big, but it has a lot of rooms. We’re a big family, so…”

“Sure.”

“Susan,” Davis repeated.

“Oh, and our kids have their own chores. Um… they usually take turns washing dishes and cooking. We read in your file that you like cooking, so are you okay taking a turn with that?”

That seemed fair. They all did chores. A good change of pace. “I’m okay with any chores,” I said with a smile.

Davis cleared his throat urgently. “Susan.”

They communicated through glances. I could only see Davis’s blue eyes, which looked at her intently while briefly raising his brows.

“Um… there’s just a little… issue we need to warn you about,” she said.

I knew it. Here it was. The bad side. There was always some kind of catch, some little condition that overpowered the ‘happy little family’ act.

“Our sons might be a bit… um… cold,” she started tentatively. “They were… not that happy with us about taking in a foster kid. I guess they’re going off of the… stereotypes. So we’re sorry in advance if they’re rude.”

Davis cleared his throat again.

Susan started speaking a bit rapidly. “But I’m sure they’ll loosen up once they get to know you. They should get used to you being around.”

He sighed, seeming tense. She cleared her throat, tucking her hair behind her ear.

I stared at them. “It’s… no problem.”

There was silence.

Well, apparently this was the end of step three. There was something going on here. These guys were hiding something about themselves.

“Sorry we didn’t mention it yesterday,” Susan said, breaking the silence. “We didn’t want to ward you off from staying with us.”

“It’s alright. Not like I have a choice, anyway,” I chuckled awkwardly.

Silence again. Maybe that wasn’t the best choice of words.

We soon arrived at our destination. The earlier tension dissipated and I relaxed just a bit when I saw their house. It was one of the nicest I’d seen. It was painted robin’s egg blue and had a flower garden in the front yard. A white fence surrounded a small porch, and large windows brimmed with golden light.

I followed Susan up the porch stairs. She took out her keys and opened the door. Pausing, she looked at me. “I’m sorry. Could you… wait here a sec?”

“Sure.” I stepped back.

She went inside. Murmurs echoed. I took a deep breath and shifted on my feet.

Step four: meet the family. This step was basically a repeat of the previous three steps, but with the rest of the family members.

Mrs. Field opened the door for me. “Okay. Come in, Diana.”

I took a deep breath and stepped inside, my hands clutching the backpack straps over my shoulders. It was the one the Thomas’s bought me when I went to school for a few months in 5th Grade.

I missed them.

“Everyone, this is Diana Watson. Diana, these are our sons.” Mrs. Field smiled nervously.

When I looked at them, I got the same feeling of familiarity. I knew I’d seen them before… but where? Maybe they reminded me of someone?

They were lined up from oldest to youngest. Kyle was just as tall as his dad— maybe almost 6 feet— also sharing his dirty blond hair. He had a dimpled chin and thick eyebrows. His eyes were sort of sea-greenish— a perfect blend of his parents’.

Kind of like my eyes, actually. I had my mother’s eyes; sea green with a hint more blue.

Jack was next. He had dark brown hair and his eyes were pure blue. He was almost as tall as Kyle. His skin was slightly tanned and his nose was just a little crooked… unless it was just the angle.

Tommy was a lot shorter than the others, but he was still a bit taller than me. His hair was a lighter blond, and spiky from an abundance of hair gel. He had his mother’s grass-green eyes. He was a little lankier than his brothers, though I could see some muscle underneath his tight T-shirt.

Harry had dirty blond hair and rosy, roundish cheeks, with a dimpled chin like Kyle’s. He had brown eyes, unlike the rest of his family. He was a few inches taller than Tommy.

Step one complete; they were tall, strong boys. A possible threat, if they were violent. As for step two, their expressions mirrored their parents’ when I met them. Eyes wide and blank, faces pale, mouths agape.

Evidently, I wasn’t as good at putting on makeup as I thought. I patted down my hair nervously.

“Boys, aren’t you going to say anything?” Susan asked them.

They glanced at her, then at each other. “Um… it’s nice to meet you, Diana.” Kyle stepped forward and shook my hand, followed by the others. “I’m Kyle, and these are my brothers­— Jack, Tommy, and Harry.”

“It’s, um… it’s nice to meet you, too,” I said with a tiny smile.

Davis came in with my two trash bags and put them down. “How about we leave you guys to get to know her? You can go down to the den and talk.”

“Uh… sure. No problem.” Kyle smiled thinly and motioned for me to follow them.

I smiled at their parents as we left. We went through a small hallway next to the stairs and entered a large, spacious room. A large sofa and chairs surrounded a coffee table. In front of them, a TV was set up with a PS5. Two speakers flanked the TV table and some bookcases lined the walls. In front of the door was a pool table.

“Your house is really nice,” I commented.

“Thanks.”

I stopped, shivering inwardly.

Step four; part three. Kyle’s demeanor and tone had changed. His muscles were now slightly tense and his voice was steely cold.

They all plopped onto the sofa. The TV was on, showing a first-person shooter game, and it had four wireless controllers connected. An almost-empty bowl of nachos sat on the coffee table along with a few crushed soda cans.

Kyle took a nacho and tossed it into his mouth. “Equip the bomb gun. That way we don’t die this time,” he said.

I timidly walked up to them, feeling the entire atmosphere change from warm and comforting to chilly and alienating. A familiar feeling.

Okay… step four, complete. This was what their parents were talking about. And I highly doubted they’d ‘get used to me’ as Susan hoped— the tone and attitude they were exhibiting already told me they were going to make my life miserable.

Although, I didn’t feel like I was in any danger of being physically harmed. So at least I felt safe in that regard.

We’d just met, so it was best to take a neutral approach. Despite their attitude, the house was beautiful, and their parents were willing to give me a proper room and meals. I didn’t want to screw that up.

Tentatively, I moved to sit on the sofa chair. Maybe I could just… watch them play?

“Oh, um…” Kyle snapped his fingers in succession, trying to recall my name.

“Diana,” I said.

“Diana. Could you do us a favor?” He paused the game and grabbed the empty bowl, holding it out to me. “Refill that with some nachos, will you?”

Bingo. Reluctantly, I stood, taking the bowl.

“Mix it in with some pretzels,” followed Tommy.

“And throw these away. Get us some cold ones.” Harry gathered the soda cans and put them in the bowl.

Okay. I was the chore girl again. Considering the fact that I spent the last two years on a farm picking up pig poop, this wasn’t so bad.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“Yeah, could you make some grilled ham and cheese sandwiches?” said Jack, resuming their game. “Mom and Dad said you knew how to cook.”

“I sure can. So… nachos with pretzels, four sodas, and four grilled ham and cheeses?”

“You got it. Thanks a bunch,” Kyle said without looking at me.

‘Thanks’, huh? That was good enough.