My foster mom, Tammy, wasn’t as bad as Rick. She could even be nice at times, but her fear of Rick’s temper would keep her from defending any of the kids. Rick wasn’t physically abusive, but when his temper got the best of him, he’d go on a rampage that rivaled a three-year-old’s. Tammy had learned long ago to lock up anything breakable.
I’d been in twelve different foster homes since I was three. Tammy and Rick’s house wasn’t the best, but it definitely wasn’t the worst. I shuddered as I thought about my last two houses. Yeah, I could deal with Rick’s asshole ways. I didn’t give a gigglefuck about Rick’s temper as long as he wouldn’t try to touch me.
I climbed out of my piece-of-shit car and headed for the house. My car was the only thing I truly owned. I’d saved every penny I could and purchased it two months ago. I’d paid six hundred dollars for a 1989 Chevy Impala, and I definitely got what I’d paid for. The body was rusted out in several places. The right rear fender was an ugly green color while the rest of the car was a faded red. It was the ugliest Christmas-themed car I’d ever seen. Actually, it was the ugliest car I’d ever seen—period. But it would get me from point A to point B most of the time. Sadly, it wasn’t even street legal, but I didn’t have the extra cash to get everything I needed to make it so.
Once I reached the house, I stuck my key into the lock and turned it. I frowned when the door didn’t unlock. I pulled the key out, thinking that maybe I’d shoved it in the wrong way, and I tried again. Realization hit me when the lock still didn’t turn over. Rick had changed it while I was at work.
I sighed in defeat before knocking loudly on the door. Lights turned on in the living room, and then I heard the door unlocking.
Rick opened the door and frowned at me. “Yes?”
“Um…the door wouldn’t open for me,” I said.
“Probably not since I changed the lock.”
“Why would you do that?” I asked even though I knew the answer.
“You’re eighteen now, Claire. You’re no longer my problem.”
I laughed humorlessly. “Seriously? You’re kicking me out on my birthday?”
“Yeah, I guess I am,” he said without remorse.
“Can I at least get my clothes and stuff?”
He shrugged. “Make it quick.”
He moved out of the way, and I hurried past him toward the room that I shared with Shelly.
Shelly was a foster kid, too. She’d been here when I arrived. She was only ten, but I’d found myself gravitating toward her from the beginning. We would look out for each other. I hated to think about her being here alone. I was pretty sure I was the only person in this house who cared about her.
I passed by the boys’ bedroom on the way to my room. Besides Shelly and me, two other foster kids lived here. Kevin was thirteen, and Jerimiah was eight. I wasn’t as close to them as I was to Shelly, but I’d still miss them as well.
I opened the door to my room and flipped on the light switch. Shelly was sound asleep in the bottom bunk. I moved quietly around the room, shoving my clothes and personal items into the suitcase I’d carried around since I was first put into foster care. It didn’t take me long to pack. I had very few clothes and even less personal items.
My eyes misted as I picked up the only thing I had left of my mom—a locket. I opened it up to see the tiny photo of her and me. I was only a few months old in the picture. My mom had been killed in a car accident right before I turned three. Her parents were also dead, and no one knew who my father was. With no family to take me in, I had been thrown into the foster system.
I closed my eyes and tried to remember my mother. As always, nothing came to me, except for the way she’d smelled. All I knew about her was that she’d smelled like strawberries. I closed the locket and slipped it into my jeans pocket. Once it was safely tucked away, I closed my suitcase and glanced down at Shelly. I hated to wake her up, but I couldn’t leave without saying good-bye.
I crouched down next to her and gently poked her a few times.
Her eyes slowly opened, and she stared up at me. “Claire? What’s wrong?” she asked as she sat up.
“I have to leave, kiddo. My time’s up,” I said as I tried to smile at her.
“What? Why?” she asked, panic filling her voice.
“Rick’s giving me the boot. I gotta go.”
“He can’t do that!” she cried angrily.
“I’m eighteen, so technically, he can.”
Shelly’s eyes filled with tears as she sprang off the bed and wrapped her tiny arms around me. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
I hugged her back tightly. “I’ll miss you, too. Take care of yourself, and keep out of trouble, okay?”
“You know I will. Will I see you again?”
I pulled away and cupped her cheek. “I don’t know. Maybe someday.”
She nodded as her shoulders sagged in defeat. “Please be careful.”
“Always. I love you.”
“Love you, too,” she whispered.
I pushed her back into bed and tucked her in. I kissed her forehead before pulling away. I stood and grabbed my suitcase off the floor. I gave her one last smile before I opened the door and slipped silently into the hallway.
Rick was still standing by the front door when I walked into the living room.
“Did you get everything?” he asked.