ESCAPE PLAN

.03 -- POKER NIGHT

It was weird for John B. to be out of his room past 9:30. As the time crept on, he found himself reminiscing on his old life and freedoms, how he and his friends would stay on the beach until the sun began to rise, drinking warm beers and dancing to the music blasting from the old van. He lived a careless life, unaware and unafraid. Now that he had seen how people with strict parents lived, he wondered if his life would be like this if his mother had stuck around.

He thought of Jolie and Sofya, how they had lived like this for years, and learned to adapt. He wondered what life was like for them before, if they would have had the same freedom he had, given the opportunity to grow up with their parents, and not the Truetts. He wondered how long he would have to be in the house, how long it would take him to formulate an escape plan that included the girls. He wondered if they even wanted that. How would the sudden freedom, the shift in lifestyle, affect the girls? It seemed that they had never been without parents, without someone commanding their next move, while John B. had been the only one to raise himself for years. Would it be too much for them? The girls seemed excited for the next step in their lives, getting out of the house. How different would it be if they left just a year earlier than predicted? John B. would happily take them to the Outer Banks, let them stay with him, introduce them to his friends. Would they want that?

John B. managed to find a pair of khaki pants that fit him relatively well, save for the slight gapping at the waistband. He tucked a plain black t-shirt into them, fastened a belt through the loops, and hoped that his attire would be passible for Marcus. He found himself standing in front of the man, who grinned and clapped his hands together.

"Alright, we're in business!" The older man cheered. "Julie, how's it coming?" He spoke aloud, taking John B. by surprise. It was the typical time that the doors locked, and the children were tucking themselves into bed. Why were the girls out? Was poker night a special occasion?

Jolie came out of the kitchen with a stoic look on her face. John B. took in the change in her attire from dinner, where she had worn an old pair of basketball shorts and a large t-shirt, to now, as she entered the room with a pair of jean shorts that looked like they should be worn by her younger sister, and an oversized sweater draping over her figure. "I'm almost done with the pizza, but everything else is ready." She spoke softly, her hands folded politely in front of her.

"Good girl." Marcus smiled, then stood, clapping John B. on the shoulder. "We normally play for money, but we'll ease you into it. No pressure, just fun." He told him. John B. nodded, but was too confused to speak. What was going on?

He would not have to wait much longer to figure out what poker night was. Four men entered the house one at a time, all cheering, carrying packs of beer, and shaking the teenager's hand. As they entered further into the house, John B. watched how they interacted with his foster sister. She put on a polite smile and greeted each of them, maintaining the polite façade while each man went in to hug her and kiss her cheek. Each would make a comment on her appearance, something along the lines of, you keep getting bigger, huh? The young girl would always offer a polite response or a giggle, then find a way to excuse herself. John B. was disgusted, he watched from the adjacent room with flared nostrils and a grimace. He was able to catch Jolie's line of sight once, and she quickly and subtly shook her head, subliminally telling the boy to ignore it.

The men sat at the dining room table, Marcus at the head with John B. to his right, and each other seat filled with Marcus's friends. Jolie stood in the kitchen, always keeping her hands busy with dishes or serving the appetizers she had made. The men were obviously familiar with Marcus and his family, and the comfortability they showed gave John B. chills down his spine. Their comments towards Jolie were making him sick, and the lack of involvement from Marcus only made the teenager more concerned.