𝐟𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 | adam banks

ninety two | bathroom graffiti

↳ foster gray

   THE HUB WAS A PLACE teenagers went to get away. Not only did they have the best food, it had walls full of memories. I remember coming here all the time as a kid, and it's been months since I was last here. During summer it was closed for renovation, but the walls remained untouched.

   I sat in my usual spot in the back of the restaurant by the restrooms. Grace wanted to bring me here. I practically lived here. The workers knew my home life, and knowing there was never food at my house, they gave me free food. This place had a special meaning to me and I had hoped I'd gain some recognition of who I was, but today, I didn't have faith. I always did, but that was now gone.

"I have to go to the bathroom," holly spoke up as she stood up from her seat. She gazed at Grace and I like she was hinting towards something. I looked over at the red head annoyed.

"We're coming," Grace retorted with exhaustion. She scooted out of the booth, letting me out after her. Like usual, I waved to the boys soon being pulled into the bathroom by Holly herself.

Walking in, I let the door slam shut behind me. My eyes wandered around the room. Holly disappeared into a stahl while Grace leaned against the sink. However, I kept glancing around.

The walls were completely covered with names, movie quotes, phone numbers, little drawings, whatever you could think of. A smile tugged on my lips. So many memories filled my mind.

   "Hey, Foster, I want you to come here," Grace said from the other side of the room. I nodded my head and headed her way, stopping by the window and the broken light fixture on the wall. She pointed to a small sketch with purple mark on the wall, and the initials FCG on it. "Do you recognize this?" She asked me.

  I bit my lip nervously and gazed at the picture. I slowly nodded my head. It was my sketch, clearly. Half of the drawings on the wall were mine. Drawing helped me clear my mind. I haven't done that in awhile.

   But the sketch in front of me meant so much to me.

   Before my father had passed away, I drew him a picture of the two of us. I had to have been around two years old in the picture, him, seventeen. My parents were young when they had me. Aside from that, it was winter. The two of us had matching Pittsburgh Penguins beanies and scarfs on. I sat on his shoulders, his hands starched to my small ones while he looked up at me with his signature grin on his face. The picture on the wall, it was that. I had spent my time sketching on the walls here just to get the picture right. This one, it was perfect.

   I looked back over at Grace, "I miss him," I softly spoke. She pulled me into a sudden tight hug while tears started to swell up in my eyes. I hugged her back tightly, feeling immediate comfort.

   I'd do anything to get my father back today.

 
   "So go ahead and break my heart again, leaving me wondering why they heck I've ever let you in. Are you the definition of insanity? Or am I? Oh it must be nice. To love someone, who lets you break them twi-"

    "Why dear, you have such a beautiful voice! How come you don't sing more often?"

   I stopped in my tracks when Mrs. Cameron entered the kitchen. After the hub, we all had come back here. The others were downstairs, Grace had to run home, and I'm sure Holly had went with her.

   Mrs. Cameron and I used to bake together all the time, so that's what we were doing. I played some music from Isaacs phone he had left up here while I poured cake batter into the pan. In all honestly, I had no idea where my phone was. I didn't care for it, and quite honestly hated it. So I never used it. Maybe only for music when I go on a run and sometimes to text everyone.

   I looked at Mrs. Cameron flustered, my cheeks red. I nervously turned back to the pan while she did the same with the cupcakes she was making.

   "Oh, uh, thanks Cameron," I nervously laughed. "Adam says that all the time, but I don't know, I don't think so." I glanced over, only to see her gazing up at me already with a look of disbelief on her face.

   "Well, honey, I personally think you have such and angelic voice," she responded. I smiled wide, beginning to get gushy. I shy laugh escaped my lips. The woman turned back to what she was doing, as did I. "How are you and Adam doing anyways?"

A smile tugged onto my lips and a small laugh escaped my mouth.

"Mrs. Cameron, I'm going to be honest. I'm completely in love with the boy and it might sound crazy, but I think he's my soulmate. I know it sounds crazy, but I'm so happy with him and couldn't imagine life without him," I gushed.

The first day I met the boy, I honestly didn't think I'd ever have a friendship with him. He was the cool guy, the guy who everyone respected, he was bold, cute, yet he cared for everyone, even when he had just met me.

We developed a strong friendship, and again, I didn't think we'd even develop a relationship. But somehow, we did, and I was beyond grateful.

"I'm so glad you found someone who respects you and takes such good care of you," she told me. I nodded my head. I felt the same. "Say, how'd he feel when you told him you were leaving?"

I slightly sighed, "he was mad, but supportive, but mad, and I'm not sure why."

I saw Mrs. Cameron nod her head. She pursed her lips together, stopping what she was doing. She leaned against the counter with her arms crossed. I stopped as well.

"I think I know why he was mad," she said. I furrowed my eyebrows together. What'd she mean by that? "Last time you came back to Point Place, he almost lost you. You didn't know when you were going to see each other again. Maybe he thought he was going to lose you again."

"But he knows I'm only here for a few days, right?" I questioned with confusion. The woman nodded her head, a content smile on her face.

"Yes he did, but he loves you so much, the thought of you leaving for a few days, scared him. I know that being here with you right now would make him feel very much better," I nodded my head.

"Me too."