17. Can I stay with you

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The next three weeks flew by like lightning. Suddenly, my whole world felt like it had flipped around; things at school with Noah were only getting better while my relationship with the o'Neils was going downhill, fast. But I was on too big of a high to care. Noah and I hung out most days at lunch and sometimes after school too. As it turned out, we didn't have much in common but we still had lots to discuss. I was perfectly fine letting him do most of the talking too, content to listen. He had a skill of making every day life seem funny.

I still struggled with small flashbacks and the occasional nightmare, but nothing extreme had happened since the earrings incident. I felt comfortable venting to Noah about minor issues, but I hadn't confided in him at all about the darker things. I didn't need to. In fact, I felt like I was doing a great job of proving Dr. Allen wrong- showing her that it's perfectly possible to be fine without "opening up."

All in all, life was better than it had been in a long time. Which is why when I heard that Carol and Bill had been called to a parent-teacher conference with Ms. Profit, I wasn't particularly worried.

I should've been worried.

I arrived home in the early evening to complete silence, not the usual sound of Carol cooking or Bill complaining about work. Were they not home? Carol's car was in the driveway- they must've been here.

I decided the best course of action would be to go to my room, and headed upstairs. The door was open. I never left the door open. Alarm bells went off inside my head as I peered inside to find complete chaos. The room which I'd grown used to calling my own, always kept neat, was completely turned inside out.

The mattress was halfway off the bed, and my clothes had been taken out from the dresser. The desk drawers were all open. It was a total mess. I quickly checked underneath the bed, trying to fight panic. Just as I'd dreaded, all the food I'd been storing was gone. And my spare cigarettes.

"Fuck!" I stood up and kicked the bedframe, running my hands through my hair to keep them from shaking. How could I have been so stupid?

"Will." I whipped my head around. Carol and Bill were had appeared like magic in the doorway. "Let's talk, ok?"

I just stared back at them blankly, my mind still racing at a million miles per hour.

"During the conference today, your teacher told us your grades hadn't been improving. We wanted to check on your schoolwork," Carol said.

"But then," Bill spoke slowly, "We found your stash. Do you want to explain to us why you took all this food?"

"And why you've been smoking even after I clearly told you that it wasn't allowed?" Carol interjected.

I remembered all the times I'd been left without food. They wouldn't understand. Stealing was stealing. I remembered all the times my own things had been stolen, my privacy violated by foster parents and siblings alike. I remembered what happened next after a foster kid breaks the rules. I fought back tears, trying to keep their faces from distorting into those demons from my childhood.

"Will?" I heard Carol's voice. "We want to see your backpack too."

They were blocking the doorway. I turned my head to look at the window. It was closed, and removing the screen and climbing out would take too much time- Not an option. Carol stepped towards me, and I backed away as she approached before my instincts overtook me and I seized the opening she'd created, bolting out the door and down the stairs. I heard them call after me, but I didn't stop. The only thought on my mind was escape. I reached the front door and swung it open, wincing as it slammed shut behind me.

Once I was on the street, my emotions caught up to me and I felt tears prick at my eyes. I wiped them away with my sleeve and kept running, adrenaline still in my system. I wasn't sure if they'd come after me in the car, but I cut through backyards just in case.

I ran for ages, afraid to stop or look back. It felt like if I turned around, I'd see Bill with a belt in his hand. Or worse.

Eventually, I ended up at Noah's house. I wasn't sure how I got there, but what I did know was that I didn't have the energy left to keep going any further. I stood, breathing hard, staring up at his window on the second floor. It was the only room with the light on. It was now almost midnight. I loitered outside, unable to come up with a convincing explanation for why I was here. Just as I thought I wouldn't be able to work up the courage to ring the bell, the sound of a car passing by on the street sparked just enough paranoia for me to force myself to do it.

When Noah pulled open the door, a look of surprise flashed across his face as he saw me. "Will? What are you doing here?"

I found myself unable to speak for a moment, my heart pounding so fast and loud in my chest. My cheeks flushed and I hung my head in embarrassment. This was a bad idea.

"Sorry," I muttered, my voice cracking.

"Do you want to come in?" Noah said softly.

I met his gaze, and the sympathy on his face made my gut ache. But I nodded. "Thank you."

I followed him inside and to the kitchen. "Do you want some tea?" Noah asked.

I nodded again, and watched him go to work at the stove. Why wasn't he asking me what happened? Didn't he want to know why I was here? After a few minutes, the kettle boiled, and he placed a mug in front of me before sitting down next to me. We stared at each other for a moment, and I struggled to fight tears.

"Sorry," I sniffed. I took a sip of the tea, hoping it would help. It tasted like cardboard.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Noah asked finally.

"I...," I tried to find the words to describe what happened. I felt so humiliated. It was all my fault. There was no way for me to tell him without him realizing how pathetic I was, if he hadn't already from the way I'd shown up a total wreck. I stared into the tea, my throat sore from the feeling of suppressed tears. "Can I just stay with you tonight?"

A/N
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