"Miss Taylor!" Mrs. Noble called shrilly, voice ringing up the staircase and into my bedroom. I breathed in deeply and exhaled a growl.
"Yes?" I yelled back, giving my roommate a look. She rolled her eyes, not knowing what Mrs. Noble needed either.
There was no response to my yell, which made me huff and stand up. I knew if I didn't go downstairs I would deal with her wrath later, in the form of extra chores or getting privileges taken away. The latter was more challenging for her to invent as there were so few privileges to begin with.
I left my bedroom, showing Anna the sketch I had been working on and chuckling when she gasped. It wasn't a perfect rendering of my old bedroom but it did capture the lighting well, in my humble opinion. I shoved my sketchbook under my mattress when she looked away and then stomped down the stairs, past snot-nosed boys and rebellious little girls until I reached the darkened kitchen. Mrs. Noble stood beside the counter with perfect posture, subconsciously making me do the same.
"Yes, Mrs. Noble?" I asked in my sweetest voice. Only she would know that it was sarcastic.
We had become something of enemies in my short time here. I had been tossed from foster parent to foster parent until I ended up at this home for more challenging foster kids. The last time I had been kicked from my house, there was an accident and Mrs. Noble was convinced it was my fault. Despite my many reassurances that I wasn't involved, she had yet to believe me.
She turned around and faced me, giving me a dark look. I smiled angelically back, brushing my blonde hair softly behind my ear like the love interest in a teen movie. That's when I noticed him. An absurdly attractive boy who didn't appear to be much older than me sat at our ramshackle table and fiddled with a leather watch on his wrist. His hair was messy and dirty blonde but he wore a buttoned-up dark shirt that made him look professional while matching his eyes perfectly.
She forced a polite smile to conceal her hatred and faced the guest at our table with artificial cheeriness.
"This is Sloane," she announced, waving her claws in my direction. His eyes turned to me, almost cracking the defenses I wore. They were dark brown in color and seemed to pierce through me, recognizing who I really was. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing about my eyes. I doubted it, as they had started to appear grey and bored after my first month here.
"Yep. What do you want?" I asked, giving the stranger a steely look. He looked young, possibly college age. I had never seen him at my school before, but that made sense. He had the polished look of someone who had been dealt a good hand at life.
His lips stretched into a wide, gleaming grin as he stood and walked closer. He held out a hand to me, and I bent my neck to look up at his distant face which was covered with the beginning of a beard. He must've been over six feet tall and towered over me at 5'3.
I shook his hand reluctantly, noticing the death glare on Mrs. Noble's face over his shoulder.
"Who are you?" I said, trying to maintain my bravado despite the fact that he could crush me like a grape. Besides his physical appearance, he didn't seem like a threat to me. His eyes were bright and his smile was playful. Something about him reminded me of a golden retriever, which sharply contrasted my general cynicism. I crossed my arms over my chest while his posture relaxed.
"You don't recognize your own brother, Slo?" he teased.
He stuck his hands in his pocket and smiled as my jaw hit the floor.
YOU ARE READING
I Don't Believe You
Mystery / Thriller"The truth will set you free. But not until it is finished with you." -David Foster Wallace It's hard to believe that one night has the potential to change your entire life. For Sloane, that was the night that her father was murdered and her mother...
