“Zeke John Hutchence,” I mumble. “I turn sixteen on the twenty-second.”
They all look at each other. Their worry sucks all the air out of my lungs. So much for finally getting a break. In a few minutes, I’ll be driving away in the car of some seedy social worker.
“That’s only ten days,” Sadie says. “It’s not the end of the world.”
I don’t understand what my birthday has to do with their concerned looks. It doesn’t help that Kade pulls out his phone and steps into the office, closing it. My heart is beating as fast as the speed of light.
“Yes, but what are we going to do with him for the next ten days?” Tristan looks at Sadie. “I don’t want to apply for foster care, then turn around and apply for emancipation. That’s a waste of money.”
I wipe my sweaty palms and stare at the floor.
“I’ll call my contacts first thing in the morning. We still have our license. They can do the emergency foster care. Then, you can apply for the emancipation after his birthday,” Sadie answers.
I tune her out when she begins to talk about technical terms, my emancipation, and becoming her foster child until they can move me to The Coop.
“So, can he stay with you?” Tristan asks.
“Tonight, he can use Tess’s room. Tomorrow we’ll get a guest room ready. If not, he can stay in the pool house with my father-in-law. The man could use a challenge,” Kade responds as he steps outside the office. “He’ll work here.”
“We have plenty for him to do,” Sadie assures them. “Kade can teach him how to drive. He’s teaching Hannah. They can be our delivery crew after school.”
I like the sound of learning how to drive, but who is Hannah?
By the time they’re done discussing my life, I am sitting in a black SUV with Kade and Sadie. I’m going to stay with them for the next couple of weeks. Tomorrow, Tristan is taking me to some school for testing. I’m going to fail. I don’t know shit. Then, what’s going to happen to me? My GPA is microscopic. I’ll never get a 3.6.
The uneasy feeling increases. What will happen if I open the door and roll out of the car?
Chapter Four
Zeke
The following day I wake up confused. For once, I’m in a big, soft bed and not leaning against a brick wall freezing my ass off. The bedding is teal, gray, and pink. I will never admit that I want to sleep in this cloud for the rest of my life.
The walls of the room are gray with seashell decorations. I stare at the narwhal pillow next to me. Fuck, did the ocean throw up in this room?
There are not only narwhals but turtles, sea lions, and all kinds of sea creatures in the room.
Maybe I am high, and last night never happened. I’m just in some sort of distorted dream.
“Good morning,” Sadie greets me as the door opens. “Did you have a good night’s sleep?”
Okay then, it wasn’t a dream, and maybe a mermaid owns this room.
“Tristan is picking you up in about an hour,” she checks her watch. “It’s seven-fifteen. Here are some clothes that I think will fit you. Tristan is bringing you more clothes. After you take a shower, come downstairs for some breakfast.”
“Thank you for everything you’ve done,” I say.
She smiles and closes the door behind her.
Tristan arrives with a duffle bag. “Here, my assistant got them for you. I hope they fit. We’ll get you more this weekend.”
“Thank you,” I say, staring at the baggy clothes I’m wearing. “Can I change before we leave?”
“Sure, just hurry up. Your first test starts in thirty minutes.”
Once we’re on the road, I ask, “What kind of evaluation is this?”
“Academic,” he answers. “One of my goals is to make sure that every teen that crosses the threshold of the center leaves with a high school diploma and a plan for their future.”
“Like a job?”
“Or heading to college,” he adds. “We have guidance counselors to help every step of the way.”
“How am I supposed to pay for college if I can’t even buy a dollar meal?”
“Patience, kid,” he says. “There’s more to this program than shoving you in a classroom and hoping that you’ll find a nine to five job by the time you’re twenty-two. Everyone is different. During the past few years, I’ve been able to help many kids like you. The captain of the Vancouver Orcas is one of the first kids who arrived on my doorstep asking for help.”
This guy is trying to cheer me up. He can’t possibly understand that everything he says tightens my chest more and more. I’m having trouble breathing. It’s the uncertainty of what might happen to me. I feel like I’m going to choke. I don’t know how to skate.
Who cares if some hockey guy made it because of him?
Nothing guarantees my future.
Things don’t get any better as the evaluation begins. When I finish, the woman who has been giving me papers with numerous questions that I barely understand says, “We’ll see you tomorrow. The team has to evaluate you—together.”
My entire body paralyzes. “Why?”
“You might have a learning disability,” she answers, opening the door. Tristan is outside. “Can he be here tomorrow at the same time?”
“Is he okay?”
Yes, lady, am I okay? Who made you the queen of the place?
Since I want them to stop the nonsense, I’m honest. “If that’s a fancy way to call me stupid, let me tell you, your stuff is hard to read.”
She frowns and asks, “When was the last time you had an eye exam?”
I shrug. “Fifth grade? Those were easy tests. I memorized the board. They never caught that I couldn’t read that well.”
She looks at Tristan. “He’s going to need some extra help. We just want to test him and make sure we have the right therapists and tutors for him. It’d be helpful if you can take him to Dr. Bennett.” She points at her eyes.
“Thank you, Ainse,” he kisses her cheek, and we leave.
I want to ask him who this doctor is and how he can help. I can’t because he’s on his phone mumbling words.
“Where are we going?” I ask as we step on the elevator and he presses the B1 button. Is that the basement? “I thought this was it. You said, ‘just a few tests.’ Now we have to be back tomorrow, and you’re taking me to the basement.”
He looks at me and shakes his head. “I’m humoring my husband and Kade.”
“Your who?”
“Husband,” he repeats. “Matt is my husband. You met him yesterday. We are married to Thea.”
“Both?” I ask again.
He nods. “We’re in a polyamorous relationship. I told you that my parents mentally and physically abused me. It was because of my sexual orientation.”
“Oh, your parents are those people.”
“I’m not sure what you’re trying to say, but maybe?”
“When I was thirteen, I was in a house where the parents kicked out their real daughter because she liked girls,” I answer. “They were horrible. I asked, ‘Well, what if I like dudes?’ I was out the next morning. It was a rhetorical question, but they just wouldn’t have anyone who didn’t fit in their cookie-cutter life living with them.”