Love surprises you - on hold

fifteen

Grace

   Grace curses herself as soon as the screen goes black, her own reflection showing. She rolls her eyes, sighing angrily as she looks down at what she was doing on the blank paper. She thinks it's stupid. But it keeps her hands busy, and stops her from smoking through her pack too quickly. When Grace was little she used to love drawing, she'd doodle intricate designs on all her school work, filling notebooks upon notebooks of sketches done fully in ball point pen, never anything else since no one bought her supplies. That all ended after her year in foster care.

There's not much to tell about that year, Grace tries not to think about it. She was around eight when it happened. It all happened fast, her mom was whisked away to rehab, and the police forced Grace into the foster system. She went through four houses that year, all well her mom was getting better. There were varying levels of kindness in the houses, but the one thing that was consistent; she couldn't draw. Everytime she moved to a different house her books were left behind, after the second house she lost the desire to doodle. It made her sad but she almost grew numb to it. That year was one of the worst ones of her life, dare she say the single worst one.

When her mother finally got her back she was almost a year clean, they moved back home, though into a different house. June was so excited to have her daughter back she offered to buy her tons of art supplies, but Grace said no. She told her mom she was over that phase.

And for the past week or so she's been doodling on the edges of her paper, just as a pass time in her boring English class. And then inspiration hit her. She grabbed a sheet of printer paper and a crappy pen and got to work.

But now as she looks down at the drawing she regrets it, hating what it means. Ava's eyes stare up at her from the page, she didn't capture the girl's innocent or joyful nature in her eyes, she didn't make her curls as messy as they usually are, she didn't even draw the small scar on Ava's jaw from when Grace accidently hit a pool ball at her when the two tried to play. Grace remembers how hard she cried that night worried about hurting her. And just now she hurt her again.

Grace grabs the paper angrily, scrunching it into a ball and throwing it towards the garbage can. She knows she misses but she doesn't care. She lets out a broken breath before pulling herself to her feet, deciding to go see Ava and talk to her in person, warn her about Emery.

And so less than ten minutes later, Grace is knocking on the hard wood door, her knuckles turning white from how hard she squeezes her hand. It's Ava's dad who answers the door, and Grace forces a smile at his kind expression. "Hey there Grace, how are you doing on this fine Monday evening."

"Pretty good Mr. Morrison, how about you?"

He shrugs, "As good as can be." He tells her. "Ava!" Grace's eyes widen slightly, she doesn't think she's ever heard the quiet man yell before. "She'll come down, why don't you come inside."

Grace nods, stepping onto the black mat. Within a few seconds Grace hears some noise upstairs before small footsteps can be heard and eventually Ava's small figure comes into sight. Grace swallows but smiles at Ava as best she can.

Even from this far away she can tell Ava was crying or at least upset. Her cheeks were flushed a light pink, her lips slightly chapped and her eyes red as she sniffled a bit. And Grace's heart twists with guilt. Ava's not wearing the same thing she was on the facetime, now she's wearing an oversized shirt that swallows her figure, the grey shirt has their school logo on it, and just at the hem that reaches her mid thighs, Grace can see a sliver of her black shorts peeking out. Her hair is pulled back with one of those claw clips, only a few loose curls frame her face.