Kiss ME! {BoyxBoy} on hold

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I opened my eyes slowly. It had been atleast a year from the accident. Able (the foster home for boy’s director) had told me that I had come in after a terrible accident and that I was homeless with no record of ever having a family. They decided to cut a lot of my hair and dyed it black, they even got me contacts, but occasionally I still needed my glasses. I don’t remember what my name use to be but people tell me it was Oliver, so I guess that’s my name. 

 I don’t even remember the crash I was in or how I got in it, all I know is there is a faint scar across my torso and a scar in the shape of an X going across my heart.  I don’t even know how I got here, I just remember one day a strange man, telling me he was friends with the doctor who saved my life, was driving me here. His name was Ben, Ben Sawyer. He seemed to be vaguely familiar, but I knew that I have never met him. But he dropped me off here, signed some papers and left me here with only the clothes on my back.

 I only had one friend, his name was Simon. He was a tall blonde guy, about a year older than me (I’m 16) and he had light blonde hair. He was silly and also the only person who would talk to me. So life wasn’t all that hard. Able was really nice to me two. He’s about 23, and I really don’t know why he runs a boys home, but I honestly don’t care.  

 I guess life isn’t all bad here… I mean it’s not like it is in the movies, were the kids are abused and they keep running away. I actually kinda like it here, better than any of the homes I’ve been to atleast. I like it here a lot because it rains all the time (I live in Seattle, Washington), I have a room with a huge window, and there’s a piano. I don’t know if I knew piano when I was younger (before the crash) but I know that I’m really good at it now. Able was the one who taught me how to play, and I excelled at it.

 When I’m not playing the piano or watching the rain, I usually like to talk to Simon. He was an interesting person. He said both of his parents were drunk, and they abused him. Eventually Social security came and took him away.

 “Do you ever miss them?” I asked. It was a spring morning. I was sitting on the bench next to Simon, and we were talking about our families. It was the first time in 3 months we have talked, due to me being adopted and then being taken back. 

 “Nah, not really. I know that they are probably doing better without.” He shrugged.

 “But don’t you ever wonder what It would be like to go and visit them? Like let them see how much you have grown.”

 “Well, I could go next year…. Since the home doesn’t keep boys 18 and older. Maybe I’ll take you with me.” He teased.

 I chuckled a little, and then got lost in thought thinking about the family I use to have… “I miss my family.”

 “Don’t be silly Oliver, you don’t even remember them!”

 “But I like to imagine what they would have been like….”

 “Well… why don’t you just go find them yourself?”

 “B-but, they are probably far far away, and there’s a reason I’m here, they don’t want me…”

 “Isn’t that what I told you?” he teased. “You didn’t seem to be bothered about it, why don’t you do that?”

 “But it seems like it would be so hard…”

 “That’s never stopped you Oli.” He stuck his tongue out and rubbed my hair. “This black dye is fading out of your hair, I can already see the red coming back in.”

 “Good let it grow back; I want my red hair any ways.” I smiled.

 “So what do you think your family is like Oli?”