One More Year

Chapter 11

DAY 5!!!!
I don't know if I've ever posted this consistent. 

Please enjoy this chapter! It's not even 2k words but it took me 6hrs to write. 

Enjoy!

~TH~

"This is his building." Race said, pulling out a key and practically running up a flight of steps.

Jack looked at the building. It was a large apartment building, a lot like his own, this one was nicer though. He followed race up to the third story

"Spot!" Race called, opening the door.

"Wait, Spot?!" Jack followed him inside. It was a small, one-bedroom apartment. The living room was separated from the kitchen with a counter. A small table sat to the side of the room. An old couch sat on a rug further back in the room, a small TV across from it. There was a door beside the kitchen and two against the far wall. Other than that it was pretty empty.

Spot appeared from the back room. "Oh, hey. Come on in. Medda's not here yet, but just make yourself comfortable."

Jack hung out behind Race, walking slowly while Race practically threw himself on the couch.

"Wait," Jack finally said, "You're Race's brother?"

Spot smirked, "Yeah, he's my brother."

"And you love me!" Race called from the couch.

"That's uh, cool." He said, still standing in the middle of the room.

"You can sit down y'know." Spot laughed going into the kitchen.

Jack tentatively sat on the other end of the couch. Race seemed to be looking at something on his phone. Jack stared silently at the wall, wondering if this had really been a good idea.

"He's not my biological brother."

Jack looked over caught off guard by the sudden comment.

"We were in the same foster home for almost four years. It was the not good kind." Race had peaked up at him, but then returned to his phone. "Had to put up with a lot. Spot got the worst of it 'cause he's older. Always took it like a champ though."

"Hey, are you talking about me in there?"

"Why ever would you think that." Race shouted. He had this sarcastic smile on his face. "Anyway, Spot aged out about a month before Medda took me in. Apparently our foster mom was on heroin. The story I got was the dad sold it, but I don't know how much of it is true. Momma didn't like to talk about them. That was almost a year ago."

This was a lot of information. It seemed to be coming out of nowhere. Jack hoped that Race didn't expect him to return the favour.

"Momma would have taken Spot too, but somebody," he raised his voice, clearly pointing the comment at the older boy in the connecting kitchen, "is too stubborn to accept help!"

"Hey, I accept help," He said, entering the living room and sitting on the couch arm near Race. "But I can take care of myself too. Got this place for myself, huh? And Medda cosigned, so I'd say I did accept some help."

Is this what Medda had been talking about when she said that they had a lot in common? They both came from foster homes? Was there more? It wasn't like he could just ask!

Just then the door swung open and Medda appeared holding five boxes. "I've got pizza!"

Race jumped up to grab them from her and Spot went over too. Jack awkwardly got to his feet, following a safe distance behind.