(Norman x Emma) I think I know you (TPN)

1

Through all his years in the system, never once did Norman believe he'd get this lucky.

He stood in the doorway of the largest room he's ever been able to call his. Well, no, thats a lie, he has seen bigger rooms down at the rehabilitation center for boys, but those were shared of course. This room is the biggest room he's ever been able to call his, and his alone.

And before you get curious, let me elaborate. Norman has been to a rehabilitation center about twice in his life. Once, when there were no other foster homes open, so there was no choice but to send him there. He eventually got out when there was additional space open in other, more fitting homes. The second time was when one of his foster parents' conceived after years of trying, and decided to quit being foster parents to prepare for a pending child. He held no resentment of course, he was glad for them, but it ultimately led to him being placed back.

The room before him was simple, there was a bed in the corner, a nightstand beside it, a desk on the opposing wall, and a mounted television beside the door. In the closet was just a drawer, and empty hangers. Its a simple setup, but somehow the simplicity screams the success of his foster parent, especially the mounted television. He's never even slept in the same room as a television. The walls were painted a very light blue, a very calm color indeed. There was a window slightly to the top left of the bed as well, with a tiny curtain drawn up on it.

Norman stepped in, and put his bags down. He liked it. It was simple, straight to the point in a way. He's nearing 17 now, yet he's never had this much space to himself, never even close to this. He could certainly get used to this. He sat on the neatly done bed, and grabbed one of his two suitcases. He opened it, and pulled out a tightly knitted pillow, with blue and green patterns on it. He's carried it with him for as long as he can remember, although he's never been too sure why. He doesn't even remember how he got it, but its been one of the only consistent things in his life, so he holds it dearly. He placed it leaning against the wall. He reached into his bag and pulled out a smaller antique; a small, kind of worn out necklace. It was a torn in half heart, with words that can't really be made out. It looked as though it had three letters on it, a P, an R, and a scratched letter that appeared to be a C. It made no sense, really, what kind of word begins with "Prc"? Regardless of how little sense it makes, Norman also valued its consistency in his life, and he knew it had to mean something. He treasured it. He just never wore it. He used to wear it, but it got damaged over time from the use, and plus, he got called some pretty mean names for wearing it back in the rehabilitation center. He was told that boys shouldn't wear things like that, and he didn't want to be ostracized, so he conformed for the time being. After getting out, he decided not to ever wear it around, and instead keeps it hidden. Its safer that way, anyways.

Norman grabbed the second suitcase after putting everything in the first one away. This one was just basic clothing he had. He put those in the closet, and decided to take it all in. He really felt like this time was different, he just knew it. This was it. He wouldn't have to switch again, nor would he ever have to deal with the horrible inner workings of the lower levels of foster care. This would suit him, and he'd finally be able to flourish and live his potential.

"Hey bud."

The door opened slowly, and Norman's new foster mother stood at the doorway. She was an older woman, and although he didn't know much of her, he liked her already. She was a newly retired professor, and she was pretty wealthy as a result of owning a few houses she rents out. She played her cards right, and now gets to live comfortably for the rest of her life. She smiled, and asked, "How are you liking it?"

Norman smiled back. "I love it. I've never had my own room before."

"I'm glad you love it." She walked in and sat at the desk, "I wasn't too sure how to set it up. I've never had children, much less a teenager."

Even if it wasn't the way it was, Norman still would have appreciated the effort put in. It meant a lot to him. "Its perfect."

"Thank you." She said, "I wanted to give you a chance to settle in and get familiar with the place, but first, I have some stuff for you." She had brought with her a small box, and in it, she pulled out a bag. "You'll be starting school soon, so heres some supplies."

It was surely a surprise to be handed brand new supplies, and a clean bag to carry them in. All Norman has ever owned were damaged hand-me-downs, this was a pleasant surprise certainly. The biggest surprise, however, was the next thing being pulled from the bag.

"I know you are used to being homeschooled in your old foster homes, but I think the high school experience is best experienced on physical campus. Thats why, I'm also giving you this." She hands him a cell phone.

A brand new, still shining, still has the plastic protecting wrapper over the screen, newest model, cell phone. This is quite literally the first time Norman has ever even held something of such a high value. He was shocked really, most foster parents were stingy with their money, they never wanted to spend money on anything more than the basics for the foster children. This, however? This is probably more money in one tiny object than any past foster parent had ever spent on him in total. This might sound like an exaggeration, but its completely accurate when your foster child diet consists of instant noodles and water. The occasional apple juice thrown in there, too.

He didn't know what to say, so his foster mother spoke instead, "I know what you're thinking, this must have been a lot, right? Who spends this much on a foster kid?" She seemed to read his mind, "I know, trust me. My time spent in the system was certainly not a time of luxury. Its partially the reason why I became a foster parent. I wanted to offer a foster kid the home I never got. This here?" She pointed to the phone, "Its not just a luxury. Its a form of communication. You're going to be going to school daily, a line of communication in case anything happens, or in case I need to get a hold of you. Of course, a simple plain flip phone would have done the job, but I'm willing to bet you've never gotten a comfortable living in foster care. So here you are."

This gesture was really kind. It was highly appreciated by Norman, who would have just been happy with a bed and lamp.

"I-I don't know what to say, thank you." Norman stuttered a little, mainly second guessing himself.

"No need to thank me. I just want to help." She smiled, "That was all. You can get acquainted with your stuff, and I'll call you down in about an hour for dinner. I hope you like lasagna."

Norman smiled and nodded. She left, and he was left to his own devices. He was excited for once. He was excited for his new cool items, his new cool home, and also the idea of starting school. He's never had good educators, he's really only ever had himself to be a teacher. Maybe he no longer needs to be.

Things are already looking up for him.