Moonrise

Moonrise Chapter Two

A/N:  I've made some changes to chapter one, so if you've already read chapter one you might want to read it again.  They're not major changes, but I've just reworked the chapter a bit.  Enjoy!

I thought I was being rather stealthy as I entered the house through my second storey bedroom window.  So much so that I yelped in surprise when I landed on the plush carpet with nary a sound and a voice spoke to me from my single bed.

“I take it you’re grounded again?”

I stumbled and caught myself against the dresser beside the window, knocking a photo frame off as I did.

“Mason, what the hell are you doing in here?” I hissed, careful to keep my voice low. 

The door was closed, but if the foster parents were home and in the next room they could easily overhear our conversation.  I picked the photograph back up and placed it face down.

My foster brother shrugged, most of his attention focused on the tablet in his hand.  His rich brown eyes ricocheted from side to side, tracking something that was pinging across the screen, his lips pursed in concentration, glasses shoved so far up his nose I was certain his eyelashes were scraping the lenses with every blink.

I came up behind him to get a better look and an explosion happened causing his head to jerk back and his blond hair to fall limp over his forehead.

“Damn,” he said absently, then dropped it into the bed in front of his crossed legs. Yawning, he flopped backwards and laid down, and I perched on the edge of the bed beside him.

“Where’d you get that?” I asked, nodding at his new toy.

“What’d you get grounded for this time?” he fired back.

“I know Joe didn’t give you the money for it.  So how’d you score it?” I continued, ignoring his question like he did mine.

“I know you don’t like sneaking into the house for fun.  Did you break curfew again?”

I sighed in irritation, holding my hand out.  “5PM is not a curfew.  Especially when you’re seventeen.  And stop changing the topic.  Spill.  Where’d you get your gadget?”

He picked it up and handed it over for my inspection.  I nearly choked on air.  It wasn’t just a tablet, it was the newest iPad.  

“I won it,” he said simply.  “Your turn.  What did Joe get you for this time?”

“I walked in the front door at 5:03 yesterday,” I murmured, too busy marvelling over the sleek piece of technology in my hands to evade his nosy questions.

“And what do you mean, you won it?”  I spared him a suspicious glance.  “Have you been gambling again?”

His smile was equal parts sheepish and arrogant, a perplexing combination.  He sat up, a hint of eagerness in his eyes as he settled himself against my headboard.

“Gambling is such an ugly word,” was all he said.

I arched an eyebrow, picking nervously at a loose thread in the knee of my jeans.  “Yeah?  Well so is ‘redistribution’.  Which is what Linda and Joe are going to do to your ass if they find out you’ve been ripping people off again.  They will send you back to where you came from, and Social Services will redistribute you to someone else like you’re last season’s unwanted stock.”

I shouldn’t have cared so much about the kid’s wellbeing.  It wasn’t like we were related or anything.  Most of the time we were barely even friendly.  I put it down to him being a cranky thirteen year old going through puberty.  He put it down to me being a bitch.  Needless to say I liked my theory better.  But, at the end of the day I’d been stuck with him for more than a year and he was the closest thing to family I had.