VOXISTALE: Novel Edition

Chapter 50

"Home sweet home . . ." Terrence sighed, stopping at the front porch of an apartment complex, staring up at it for a moment, before ascending the steps and making his way inside, ignoring a drunk old man in a heavy coat sitting in the corner of the room, beer in his hand. He moved up to the next floor, approaching a door labeled '202'. The instant he knocked, the door flew open, and there stood Marcus.

Marcus was a good dude, and he'd done a lot for Terrence over the past few years, even though it seemed like a lost cause to land the boy in a home that could tolerate him. He sported a basic white button-up shirt and gray slacks, a pair of square glasses sitting on his face, his jet black hair parted in a professional manner, appearing gelled.

"Hey Marcus," Terrence greeted, biting the inside of his cheek. "What's up?"

"I think you know, Terrence," Marcus replied, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. "They told me you didn't spend a single night here."

"But-"

"They said you've been ignoring calls, staying out way past your curfew, never coming home,"

"Yeah . . . I know."

"What were you thinking?"

Terrence frowned, "It's not like there's much point in me staying anyways, is there? Foster parents are stupid, Marcus, I swear. They hate it when I'm around them, and they hate it when I'm not around them."

"Terrence, you're not even making an effort anymore. Did you try to have one good conversation with these people?"

"No."

"So what's your plan? To keep bouncing around foster homes until you're eighteen?"

"If that's what I have to do," Terrence stuffed his hands into his pockets, looking down.

"That's no way to live," Marcus said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder, who let out a sigh.

"Maybe, but . . . I don't really . . . belong with anybody in the foster care system. Now I'm too old for most to even care anymore."

Marcus was silent for a moment, before he nodded out the door with his head. "Come on, I'm taking you back to the Jade House. We already cleared your stuff out of here, and . . ." he glanced back into the building. "They don't really want to say goodbye."

"That's fine. I don't either," Terrence replied. "I'm sorry. I know how hard it is to keep trying to find people for me, but there's just no point."

"Nice try," Marcus chuckled. "You aren't gonna convince me to give up on you, Terrence. And if I'm not willing to give up, you shouldn't be, either."

The two engaged in a bit of idle conversation as they made their way to Marcus's car, a gray BMW that the man took great pride in, even going so far as to wrap the backseat down in plastic.

"How's school going?"

"Fine, I guess," Terrence shrugged. "Keeping up with my grades and all that."

"I don't imagine homework is the only reason you never come home?" Marcus asked, glancing at him as they made their way down the street, and a smirk tugged at Terrence's lips.

"I . . . got a girlfriend," he admitted, and Marcus raised his brows, feigning being impressed.

"Stop lying," he teased.

"I'm not!" Terrence laughed, leaning back and staring out of the window. "Her name's Frisk."

"Frisk . . . isn't that the same name of that ambassador a few years back? The one for all those monsters? Didn't you date a while back?" Marcus inquired, and Terrence gave a nod.