actions speak louder than words {karlnap}

~brothers~

This is not canon to the storyline.

(Nick POV)

"What?" I ask. "Repeat what you just said, I zoned out."

Mom rolls her eyes. "I said, Cherry has a kid in need of a foster home and I said we could take him in."

I blink. A foster kid? I mean, considering I'm graduating in a few months and therefore almost a legal adult, I guess it's plausible. But I'm gone all day, and even when I am home, I'm doing homework or hanging out with the guys. Or talking to Karl. Mom is rarely here too.

"How long?" I ask. "And when?"

She glances at the piece of paper on the table. "Uh, Cherry told us he'll be staying for between one to three months," she says. "And he'll be arriving in two days."

"Two days?" I exclaim. 

"I know, I'm sorry," she says. "I wish we could have more time, but Cherry just couldn't find a family in time."

I huff. "Don't we need to be approved or whatever?"

Mom gives me a look. "I've been approved to foster children for years," she says. "I've just chosen not to since I had my hands tied with you, and then Karl moved in."

Oh.

"Where will he stay?" I ask.

"Downstairs," she says. "We can set up a mattress in the living room there. We barely go down there anyways, so he'll have the whole basement to himself."

"Not Karl's room?"

Another look. "You just answered that yourself," she says. "It's 'Karl's room', is it not?"

That's fair. Plus, if he's going to be here for up to three months, Karl will be back before then.

"I'm going to start working from home, too," she says, opening her phone, probably to talk to Cherry. "I want him to be settled in here and feel comfortable. I don't want him to be alone all day."

"I was thinking about that," I mutter. 

But still, if I have to be a foster brother now, shouldn't I be here too? I wish this could've happened over summer. Though if it did, it wouldn't be much better, since I'd be preparing for college and spending as much time with my friends as I could. Maybe this is better.

"How old is he?" I ask. 

If he's a little kid, there's no way I'll be able to connect with him or anything.

"15," Mom answers, frowning at her phone. "He goes to a school across town right now, but Cherry says he's transferring to your school since he's always excelled in Science. He's the grade below you."

I frown. "But if he's 15, shouldn't he be in tenth?"

"He skipped third grade."

"Oh."

The sound of her keyboard fills the room for a minute. Then my phone buzzes. 

"I sent you the info I have on him now, in case you want it," she says. "Might be good to know a bit about him before hand."

I open the file she attatched. It has all of his info; name, birthday, even some of his interests, probably for conversation topics or something. 

"Hey, he likes video games," I mutter. 

Mom nods. "Hey, maybe you can introduce him to your friends," she says. "It would be good for him to have them."

"I figured that was non-optional," I say. I turn back to the file and scroll back up to his name, considering I looked right past that.