Here's something no one knows about the care home: there's always some hierarchy. Though I have never been able to understand it. All I knew was that I didn't seem to fit anywhere.
There were old schoolers who had been in the system for years and knew all the tricks. All the secrets. The ones who were either really helpful or really obnoxious.
There were the hardball kids. Mostly teenagers but some tweens as well. The ones who had thick files and no manners and bad habits.
Then there were the newbies. All the kids who came in and cried for their parents or got frightened by the older kids or drawn into their world of drugs and fights and alcohol.
Me? I was in all of them at once and none of them at all. I could out-drink some of the hardballs one day and cry for my mum with the newbies the next. No one could place me. And that was how I liked it.
Everyone knew not to mess with me though. I could be charming when I wanted to be but if you pissed me off, you'd better run. That's what Marvin said.
I was unknowable. That's what my file said. Lincoln: unknowable. Inconsistent. Doesn't show a simple pattern of behaviour.
I wondered what a simple pattern of behaviour looked like. Weren't teenagers typically unpredictable?
I pulled out my sister's letter with a smile, reading it over and over again. It was two years old but I still kept it in the box where I kept all her letters. I liked to read it and hear her voice in my head whilst I did so.
I held the paper to my nose, breathing in the faint but sweet scent of vanilla perfume. Was it still her favourite? Did Max wear it too? Did they style each others hair and do each others make-up and tell secrets like any normal pair of sisters? Did they ever think of me?
"What've you got there, Lincoln?" A voice made me turn around and clench my hands into fists.
"What do you want, Darren?" I asked.
He laughed.
"I just wanted to see how my favourite enemy is doing." He said, white teeth flashing like a shark's.
Darren was the one of the oldest kids in the home, and definitely one of the scariest. He'd been in custody for any number of things, drinking, fighting, drugs. No one is quite sure how he got out of prison but somehow he always ends up back in the care home, with warnings and trackers that got discarded at the nearest possible opportunity.
He was also super cute. At least, according to the girls anyway. There was usually a gaggle nearby drooling over him, though he never seemed interested in any of them. Celebrities rarely associated with their fans.
He reached to snatch the paper out of my hands and I danced away from him, folding the page up carefully and using sleight-of-hand to make it disappear.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." I said, softly.
"Oh yeah?" He challenged.
"Oh yes." I said. "You're not as tough as you think."
"How would you know anything about it, Mama's boy?"
He set his shoulders and I did the same, aware that children were nudging each other and watching us. He's about to do it again. The whispers spread through the room and I flexed my fingers, watching as he eyed me challengingly.
"So what are you going to do about it?" He asked, gently.
I smiled, studying his body language as he raised a hand to strike. I blocked his fist and kicked his ankles. A hand shooting out to strike his stomach so he collapsed onto the floor in pain as Charlie and Fred pulled me away from him.
"What the hell did you do that for?" Fred yelled.
"Calm down, Fred. I'm going to talk to him." Charlie said, calmly.
I laughed and he gave me a stern look.
"I don't know what you think you're laughing at." Charlie said. "This is your second strike this week."
I rolled my eyes and fury flashed in his eyes. A rare occurrence. Fred walked away, shooting me a look before he turned the corner. I gave him the finger.
Charlie's hand shot out to pull my hand down.
"Don't." He said. "This is your second strike this week, Lincoln. Not month, week. Do you have any idea how serious this could get?"
I grumbled but a stern look from Charlie made me shut up.
"You need to see your sisters." He muttered. "They might be able to curb your...wilfulness."
I did. I did need to see them. But everytime I got close to being able to do so, loneliness struck and I was put in isolation or on the risk assessment chart and the visit was cancelled.
Seeing them was supposed to be a privilege. A reward for good behaviour. My incentive. But each time I was deemed too irresponsible, too immature to see them.
It had eventually dawned on me that this was it. They were never going to allow me to see them. I just wasn't responsible enough. Not controlled enough. It's been two years. Who knows where they were. What they were doing. The loss cut deep. Deeper than when I had lost my mum and more painful. Because this time, they were out there somewhere, just out of reach. Waiting patiently for me to show up and help them. To get them out of this.
"Tell me what's wrong." Charlie asked, no, demanded.
"He's upset because he's not getting laid." I replied, causing Charlie to shoot me a look.
"Lincoln." He warned.
"He tried to take a personal letter." I shrugged. "I hate people touching my things."
He sighed. He knew about my boundary issues. I don't think there was a single adult here who didn't. It was probably written over and over in my file. Bad temper, problems at home, boundary issues, boundary issues, boundary issues. Especially after last time.
"We'll issue a warning, Lincoln. But you need to control that temper, alright?"
I shrugged.
"That's not an answer." He said.
I sighed. "Fine. I won't go around punching morons anymore."
He knocked on the door and Emily opened it.
"What are you doing here?" She demanded, fury radiated off her and I wondered if Fred had radioed my arrival already.
"There was another incident with Darren." Charlie replied. "We're going to speak to him about it. He got Lincoln all riled up."
I scowled at him.
Emily sighed.
"Sit down." She said, gesturing towards the chair.
She thanked Charlie and turned to frown at me. Her gaze pinned me to my chair. I tried a smile.
"This is no laughing matter, Lincoln. I've told you plenty of times to keep your temper under control. Darren taunts you because he knows you're an easy target. You know this." She got my file out and started scribbling. "You are on your last strike. Otherwise I will place you in social isolation until I find a foster home."
I scoffed and her eyes met mine.
"Lincoln, I need you to cooperate." She said. "I want you to be happy but I need you to follow the rules just like everyone else."
She sighed. "I know you don't like listening to others, but this is one of those times when you have to."
"What will you do if I don't?" I asked, scornfully.
"I will find a home for you." She said. "I'm looking for one. You need a home that can curb your...enthusiasm."
I laughed at her word choice and she shook her head. She called Charlie into the room and he escorted me out.
"Come on." He said. "Let's get you back to your room."
I nodded reluctantly.
"Look after yourself." He said, "and for the love of all that is good, stop allowing people to get to you."
"Easy for you to say." I muttered.
He gave me a long look before escorting me back to my room.
"Get some rest." He muttered. "You need to go to school tomorrow."
"Great." I said, sarcastically.
He looked at me again. "I'm taking you this time." He said. "Since I can't trust you to get the bus like everybody else."
I sighed.
"If I or anyone else finds out you're skipping, I'll inform Head and she'll revoke all your privileges for the next month. Understand?"
I simply shrugged.
He gave me an assessing look, watching me closely for something, a reaction, anything.
"Go to bed." He said eventually, not telling me what he saw; if he saw anything at all. "And whatever you do, do not leave your room until morning. I'll post a guard. Hell, I'll watch the door myself if I have to."
I rolled my eyes but, after a minute, did as he said.
"Just start following the rules, Lincoln. If you're good to us, we'll be good to you." He said, before shutting the door and locking it with a light click.
I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about his last words. If you're good to us, we'll be good to you. I thought about the last time I had believed that promise. The last time I had let someone's words get under my skin.
How I had promised myself I wouldn't let it happen again. No matter what.
~*~
I didn't go to sleep. I watched the darkness creep across the ceiling and fade again with the morning sunlight, lost in memories I thought I'd pushed down out of reach. Too painful to think of anymore. Reminders of all I had lost.
I thought about my sisters. I needed to stop messing around and find a way to see them. They needed me. I needed them. More than anything. But I wasn't even sure where they were anymore. I had to get out of here. I needed to go and find them.
Good behaviour just didn't come naturally to me. I don't think it ever would. So I needed a plan. It would land me in hot water if I was caught, probably with the police, and definitely with the staff at the Home. But hell, I couldn't just sit here and wait for someone to tell me where and when I could see them. I had to get out of here. I just had to.
But I couldn't do it alone. I wanted to. Probably should do. But I couldn't. I needed someone with me. Someone to stop me from doing something stupid. From hurting myself again.
Someone who would be able to stop me without touch.
And I think I knew just the person. But how to get them on board?
But why her?
I don't even know her and she doesn't know me.
Who's to say she would even understand?
Then again, maybe that's just what I needed. Someone who didn't understand. Someone who set rules that didn't bend because of the situation.
The idea was stupid. Reckless. What was I thinking? It was dangerous. Ridiculous.
Which was why it just might work. It had to work. I would make it work.