KENZIE
Something seems different.
Looking around my room there are no obvious signs that any major changes have been made, but I know for sure that the room isn't the same as it had been last night. My homework which had been splayed out on the bed is stacked in a neat pile on the desk and the door which had been propped closed by the chair is now wide open allowing free passage for anyone to walk in.
I wouldn't be too worried if it wasn't for the fact that I had deliberately locked myself in the room to protect myself from the other people who live in the house. There is no way on earth I would have opened that door of my own accord.
Despite feeling completely disorientated by my surroundings, I decide to let it go for the time being knowing that I will probably need to save my energy for the confrontation that is yet to come. Most of my previous foster families may have let my behaviour slide, but I am certain that Nathan, Will and Chris are going to be a different story.
Walking in to the bathroom, I take a hot shower before adorning myself in a fresh set of clothes. This time instead of wearing Nathan's hoodie, I decide to try out one of the new jumpers hanging in my wardrobe. It's bright pink, super fluffy and almost feels as if I am being hugged by a cloud. The perfect jumper for sitting outside in the garden.
As I make my way down the stairs I almost make it to the front door before I am abruptly stopped by the sight of Mitchell walking around the corner towards the stair case.
"Where are you going, Mack?" Mitchell asks, tilting his head to the side while giving me an odd look.
"Outside...?" I answer drawing it out to sound like a question, hoping that he will explain himself.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" He asks seriously, instantaneously making me feel self-conscious.
Looking down at my attire, I make sure that I am wearing enough clothes to be deemed appropriate for outside activities before turning my confused gaze back to Mitchell when I don't see anything wrong. An amused smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he watches me scramble through my memories in search of the one he believes that I should have, but can't find.
"You're meant to be having breakfast with James this morning, remember?" He prompts.
No, I don't remember. I have been hiding in my room ever since Will grabbed my arm last night and I think that I would remember making plans to have breakfast with James, especially since I have been trying to avoid his impromptu counselling sessions for the past two weeks. If anything, I had planned on skipping breakfast altogether and spending the morning in the front garden where no one would bother me.
I'm about to tell him that I have no idea what he is talking about but before I get the chance I am interrupted by Will who comes walking down the corridor from the direction of the kitchen.
"Hey sweetheart, I was just about to come up and get you. James is already in the kitchen and I think he made you a special surprise for breakfast." His voice has a playful tone to it, the opposite of what it had been last night when he was interrogating me about my behaviour at school.
Looking at the man in front of me there are no signs of his previous anger evident in his features. His stance is relaxed and his face is graced with his usual friendly smile, nowhere close to how he had been last night which only confuses me further.
Why is he being so nice right now? Did he forget that I broke several of the rules yesterday and that he is angry at me because of it?
Stepping slightly away from him, I simply nod my head, too afraid to say anything in case I trigger his temper. Last night was scary enough for me to not want to be in that situation again.
Will's smile drops into a sad frown when he notices me step away from him but he doesn't say anything about it. Instead, he simply tells me that my breakfast is probably going cold, before excusing himself to go upstairs, leaving me alone with Mitchell who just gives me a sad smile.
Disregarding the strange feeling in my chest, I make my way to the kitchen where I find James placing a plate in the middle of the dining table. The room smells delicious, but due to my senses being on high alert I am unable to fully enjoy the sweet aroma clinging to the air.
"Good morning Kenzie! Come take a seat. I just finished making our breakfast." James practically bounces on the spot as he sees me walk in and the second I follow his instructions and sit in my usual spot at the table he quickly does the same, only this time instead of sitting next to me like he usually does, he takes the spot that Mitchell would normally sit at.
Looking at the giant stack of chocolate chip pancakes sitting at the centre of the table, I can't make myself feel excited about the rare treat. Usually when someone offers me something nice like this, it always comes at a cost and I have a feeling that this breakfast is going to be no different.
Although the churning sensation in my stomach dampens my appetite considerably, I reach over and place a single pancake on my plate before sitting back in my seat and assessing the room for any sign of the three people I am hoping to avoid the most.
"Why aren't the others having breakfast with us?" I ask the question that has been bugging me since Mitchell mentioned that I would be having breakfast with James this morning. Most of the time, if they are all up at the same time they will have breakfast together. Sometimes one or two of them will sleep in, but in the time that I have been here I have noticed that they are usually early risers. The fact that James and I are the only ones in the dining room this morning is beyond strange.
"Because, you and I are going to have a private conversation and I was hoping I could make it a little less intimidating by turning it into a breakfast." James answers truthfully, grabbing two pancakes and stacking them on top of each other before placing a dollop of cream on the side of his plate.
Oh, I see now. This is his way of trapping me into one of his spontaneous counselling sessions. I shouldn't be surprised, especially after the events of last night, but the idea of having to talk about yesterday so soon after it happened makes my skin crawl. I just want to forget that yesterday ever happened and move on with with life.
"Look Kenzie, I know that Friday was a difficult day and you probably want to just shove it away into the deepest recess of your mind, but I have some serious concerns that I need to address with you." James says earnestly, the smile he had been wearing earlier now replaced with a solemn look.
"Like what?" I ask, wanting for this to be over as quickly as possible.
"Well, to start off with, your panic attacks. How often do you have them and how severe do they get?" Straight to the point as usual.
"I only have them when someone triggers me or I have been exposed to an extremely stressful situation or environment." I shrug, stabbing my fork into the pancake and using the butter knife to tear a bite sized chunk off before shoving the gooey mess into my mouth.
"Do you know what triggers you?" James asks, waiting patiently for me to finish my mouthful of food so that I can answer.
"Yes, mostly." Another piece of pancake is deposited into my mouth as I toss the ball back into his court.
The frustrated look on his face when I don't elaborate further makes me feel guilty, but I quickly quash that feeling when James nods in understanding. I'm sure he is already aware of my main triggers so there is no point wasting any more time on the subject.
"That's alright, as long as you know what triggers your anxiety you don't have to share with me unless you feel like that is something you want to do. However, I would like it if you could give me some type of warning when you feel one of the attacks come on."
Thinking over his words, I copy his actions and offer him a nod in response. If he thinks that he can help me stop my panic attacks before they spiral into something similar to what it did last night then I have no objections asking him for help.
"Alright then, since we seem to have an amicable agreement on that point, I'm going to have to warn you that the next topic might be a bit more sensitive to discuss." He says, using the time to cut his own pancakes into sections so that they don't go completely cold, but also somehow managing to maintain eye contact with me.
"A few of us have noticed that you have a particularly harmful habit of pinching your arm when you are in a distressed state. I'm not saying that you do it on purpose and I'm not entirely sure that you are even aware of the habit until after the damage has already been done, but it is a form of self harm and we all take this issue very seriously." James talks in an even voice, not once using an accusatory tone towards me.
"With that said, I need to know if you have ever intentionally harmed yourself in any other way."
"No. I don't feel it when I grab my arm. Actually, I do feel it, but it isn't painful. It's more like a way for me to draw myself away from the spiral when the emotional tension becomes too much." I try my best to explain my logic, but stop myself when I realise how stupid I sound.
"I understand your motive, however there are several other useful techniques that I believe you could benefit from as an alternative to harming yourself." I can feel a "but" coming...
"But, the only way you can learn these techniques is if you agree to participate in regular counselling sessions with a qualified psychologist."
"I don't know..." I grimace at the idea of being trapped in a room with another "vulture".
"I'm not going to force you into this, however I have a lot of contacts in the industry and there are several psychologists in our area who would very much like to help you tackle your problems. I will be there supporting you every step of the way, but this is something you need to do for yourself." The determined look on James's face is almost pleading as he does his very best to convince me that this is the right thing to do.
"You are strong and you are capable of incredible things. You just need to allow yourself the opportunity to heal." These are all the words I needed to hear and my stubborn resolve starts to slip away with each second that James continues to hold my gaze.
"...Alright, I'll try it. But if the psychologist makes me feel uncomfortable or I don't find it helpful I won't participate again." I finally cave in and agree.
"Absolutely. We can even choose the doctor together if it makes you feel any better."
Staring down at the half hacked pancake still siting on my plate, I am unable to continue eating even though I am aware that I haven't eaten nearly enough to constitute a healthy breakfast.
"Are we done?" I ask, hoping that he will let me leave the table so that I can gather my thoughts in private.
"For now, yes. however, we will be discussing your counselling sessions in the near future. Since you have school tomorrow I will give you some time to regroup after Friday's train wreck." James nods his head to indicate that the discussion is over, but his words bring back the same sense of confusion I had been feeling all morning.
Tomorrow is Sunday. I don't have school tomorrow.
"You mean I have school on Monday, right?" I ask, seeking clarification that today is in fact Saturday and I am not losing my mind.
"Tomorrow is Monday, silly. Did you forget?" James gives me an odd smile as he tries to make sense of my confusion.
Maybe I slept through yesterday. It wouldn't be the first time that I have done it, especially after I had blacked out after my panic attack. It would also explain why Will's temperament has done a complete backflip since the office incident.
"Oh. I think I just confused myself because it feels like a Saturday."
James just laughs it off, telling me that I have an odd sense of time before averting his attention directly to his now cold pancakes. Why he didn't wait until after we had eaten to have our conversation beats me, but the moment I know for sure that the conversation is over I thank James for making us breakfast and excuse myself from the table.
Although I ache to be outside in the fresh air, I decide that there is a smaller chance that I will be bothered by the other men in he house if I keep myself hidden in my room. My theory proves wrong when all three of my legal guardians approach me later in the morning to discuss what happened on Friday night.
To my utter surprise, instead of grilling me about my behaviour like I thought they would, they instead took the time to apologise for their own behaviour towards me that night. The built up tension between us all had been dissolved and by the time we worked through our issues, Chris had managed to convince me to join them for lunch.
Every time I tried to either slink back to my room or slip outside for some fresh air, one of the guys would somehow find a way to lure me into joining their plans which meant that most of my afternoon was spent watching movies and then later, watching Mitchell crush everyone at Uno.
Thankfully, Nathan and Will allowed me to spend the rest of the afternoon in the front yard undisturbed. Despite the temperature having dropped away with the fast-approaching sunset, the last rays of afternoon sun still contain enough warmth that I don't need an extra layer underneath my fuzzy jumper.
To my surprise, the herb garden my house mates have lining the front of the property is filled to the brim with an assortment of herbs and vegetables, some native Australian and others I have never seen before. Each plant is clearly identified with a plastic yellow tag, and although I am unable to read some of them, I am impressed by how much time and attention has been put into maintaining the garden's quality.
I spend most of my time wandering up and down the garden bed, stopping when I find something particularly interesting and occasionally breaking off small pieces to taste. Most of the herbs have been pleasant in both scent and flavour, but there have been a few times where I have found myself spitting out my sample in disgust.
Apparently, Coriander is edible. The flavour says otherwise.
Mitchell, who has been sitting in the living room playing video games must have seen my less than impressed reaction to the herbs because occasionally I could hear his laughter from the other side of the window when I tried something I found particularly unpalatable. The sound of his amusement combined with the smell of the herbs stirs something inside my brain allowing me access to a small flicker of memory from my childhood.
"Yucky!"
"You don't like sage, Angel?" The young man standing next to me asks while crouching down to my height and draws my clenched fists closer towards him to inspect their contents.
Shaking my head rapidly, I scrunch my face up to show him just how disgusted I am by the small green leaf I had just taken a bite out of. I had selected it randomly from the collection of greens I had stuffed into my fists, but the moment the taste registered on my tongue I was quick to spit the chewed up mess not the ground. I thought he said they tasted nice.
"Well why don't you show me what you have got in those cute little hands of yours and I will see if I can find you something that doesn't taste so gross, yeah?" The man holds my hands gently in his own as he flips them over to reveal the wad of slightly squashed mixed herbs sticking to my palms.
"Let me see... How about this one?"
Peeking over at the sprig of thin shaped leaves that are now nestled between the man's fingers, I lean forward so that I can sniff the plant and hum in delight at the scent that fills my nose.
"What is it?" I ask curiously, taking a leaf of the stalk and popping it into my mouth.
"It's called rosemary. It tastes pretty nice, huh?"
"Smells nicer." I say, trying to understand the balance between the savoury and bitter notes of the herb.
"I agree, that's why it is my favourite." He says with a small laugh before affectionately tapping my nose with the tip of his finger.
As quick as the memory flashes through my mind, it disappears leaving me feeling momentarily unsettled. This happens sometimes, not very often and when it does the memories are rarely pleasant, however on this occasion I was lucky.
Just when I have about had enough of the front garden, I lift myself into a standing position and brush the stray blades of grass from my jeans, taking extra care to ensure that I don't drag any unwanted dirt into the clean house. The sun has almost set and the burnt orange rays that still illuminate the sky no longer hold any warmth, making the chill of the evening more noticeable.
Walking across the front yard I am almost near the front door when my attention is caught by something I thought I would never have to hear on my street.
"Hey! New girl!"
You have got to be kidding me...
Turning my head towards the familiar voice, I inwardly groan as my eyes catch sight of Ben who is rapidly pedaling his pushbike up the street. At first I want to turn away and pretend that I didn't see anything, but then I think about James and the others inside the house who can probably see and hear the entire scene from the living room. If I walk away now without acknowledging Ben I am certain that James will be on my case within two seconds of me walking back into the house.
"Hey, don't go! Wait up!" Ben calls again, this time using one hand to wave frantically at me while using the other to steer himself across the road.
I don't make an effort to wave back, because honestly, he looks like a crazy person barreling towards me the way he is, but I also don't take the opportunity to walk away like I so desperately want to. The only option I have left is to just stand here awkwardly and hope that he keeps riding.
"I thought it was you-" Ben's sentence is suddenly cut off as the bike pitches dangerously to the right. In an attempt to correct the swerve he pulls back hard to the left, but by the time he is able to successfully correct the wobble the front tire slams into the raised gutter, sending Ben flying over the handlebars onto his back, the bike landing unceremoniously on top of him as he falls.
The sound of a low groan can be heard across the yard before it is quickly muted once I make the decision to venture closer to the scene of the accident. As quick as the incident happened, Ben is back on his feet, brushing his black hoodie clean from any grass that has been caked into the fabric from his harsh landing on the lawn.
"I'm ok!" He grins, giving me the thumbs up to indicate that he isn't physically injured in any way.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, genuinely curious as to why he has suddenly appeared on my street.
"I'm working." He responds in a "duh" tone as if I should have known this from the start.
"You get paid to stack your bike on other people's lawns?"
"Well, today I am. But consider yourself special because I only reserve that trick for people I am really trying to impress. Everyone else just gets a knock on their door and a bag of Chinese food handed to them." He retorts with an amused smile, pulling his helmet from his head and placing in n top go his fallen bike.
"So, you're a food delivery guy?" I ask seriously this time, his presence suddenly making sense.
"Yep. My parents own the Wonky Chopstick in town. I work for them in my spare time which is most days. You could say that I am their star employee" He says, casually shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
"Anyway, where were you on Friday? I waited at the tree but you didn't show." The mock pout on his face tells me that he isn't hurt by my nonappearance.
"I was in detention."
"On your first week?" He asks skeptically, raising one eyebrow while trying to gauge whether I'm being honest with him.
"School and I have a complicated relationship." I shrug indifferently, hoping that he will drop the conversation and be on his merry way. I don't need anybody else knowing that I am stupid.
"So you're a bit of a badass?"
"Not really. I'm just not like everyone else."
"Well you got that right." He laughs lightly, his chocolate coloured eyes sparkling with amusement. "But that's alright. I like that you are different."
Feeling slightly awkward from his compliment I try to move the conversation away from me so that I don't have to feel bad when I try to shut him out again.
"Don't you have some deliveries to do?"
"I just finished this lot, but I'm sure by the time I get back to the restaurant there will be more waiting for me. I just wanted to stop and say hi." He admits with a nod of his head before straightening his bike out next to him and wobbling the handlebars from side to side to ensure that his stack didn't cause any real damage.
"Well you should probably head off then, I don't want to be the reason why you lose you star employee status."
"That's never going to happen, but I guess you are right. My mum can get a bit testy sometimes when I take too long on a delivery." he laughs at his own words before running a hand through his messy black hair.
"Kenzie, honey! It's time to come inside!" Nathan's voice echoes across the front yard making me flinch slightly from the unexpected noise, but at the same time his words fill me with relief. I finally have an excuse to get out of this conversation.
"I'll just be a minute!" I call back, not even bothering to turn my head towards the house when I speak.
"Was that your dad?" Ben asks, glancing behind me where I presume Nathan is still standing.
"No, more like an annoying older brother." I answer blankly, trying to avoid sharing anything too personal with him. The last thing I need is for someone I barely know to be digging into my personal life. It's bad enough that James wants me to share my history with a psychologist, but having Ben become aware of my personal circumstances would just be too much.
"He's glaring at me as if i'm about to snatch you up and ride away with you into the sunset." He laughs again, making me wonder if he has ever had to be serious in his life.
"I wouldn't be surprised if that is what he is actually thinking." I sigh apathetically, casting a glance toward the house where Nathan is indeed standing in the entrance way, arms crossed over his chest while glaring intently at Ben.
"Anyway, I guess I will see you at lunch tomorrow?" He asks quietly, the same hopeful glint in his eyes as every other time he has asked me the same question.
"No, actually. I have detention for the next two days." I shrug, knowing that I have momentarily dodged a bullet, or at least until Wednesday. "Besides, I thought I told you that I want to be alone."
Ben rolls his eyes at me as if he doesn't believe a word I have said, and his continued stubbornness when it comes to this argument is world class. I have never seen someone persevere this long when it comes to trying to win me over.
"Ok then, how about this; on Wednesday when you are no longer under any obligation to attend sucky detention, you and I will have lunch together, provided by yours truly, and if you try my food and don't think that it is the best Chinese cuisine you have ever tried in your life, then I will never ask for you to be my friend again." Ben states seriously, no sign of a joke present in his words.
"You won't try to talk to me anymore? Or try to convince me to sit with you at lunch time?" I ask doubtfully, giving him the once over to gauge his seriousness.
"You have my word."
All of this sounds too good to be true, but the fact that he is willing to hang the fate of our "friendship" on the presumption that I will love his food is super ballsy. Yes, he does seem extremely confident that he is going to win this bargain, but what he doesn't realise is that he has just offered me the ultimate free pass.
Before this offer was put on the table Ben had never given me the chance to decline his efforts. Every time that I would ignore his attempts at gaining my attention or simply refuse to engage in any of his frivolous conversations, he would just brush off my rejection and come back again the next day with even more determination to achieve his goal.
Now that he has put this offer on the table, my annoyance towards him begins to ease. He is giving me the choice to say no, even if he has put safeguards in place to protect his chances of being successful. Even if the food is the best Chinese in the world, I can still say no, so is there really any harm in me agreeing to his terms?
"Ok then. I will have lunch with you on Wednesday, but it doesn't mean that I like you." I agree reluctantly, hoping that this whole thing doesn't come back to bite me in the ass later on.
Ben's face lights up at my words and although I told him that I don't like him it is as if he ignored that part of my sentence altogether. I can tell that he is restraining himself from celebrating the small victory but the tiny bounce to his body gives away the true extent of his excitement.
"I am ok with that." Ben nods eagerly, the massive smile on his face not fading for even a second as he mounts his bike and prepares to head back to his job. "I promise, you won't regret it."
I hope I don't regret it either.
"You should really go now. It's almost dark." I say, taking a couple of steps back toward the front door while watching to make sure that Ben actually leaves.
"Alright, have a nice night." He says while mounting his bike in one swift movement before placing his helmet back on his head and buckling it in place. I watch as he pushes away from the gutter, wobbling slightly from the slow pace before quickly gaining his full balance.
"See ya later Kenzie!" He calls over his shoulder, giving me an enthusiastic wave before turning his attention back to the road in front of him. I watch as Ben's figure retreats and once he has turned the corner out of view I finally let out the laugh I had miraculously been able to hold down since watching him eat grass.
I don't care that the others are probably watching me from the living room windows thinking that I have lost my mind, but the overwhelming feeling of joy that washes through my body at the sound of my own laughter makes me feel warm and fuzzy in a way that I haven't experienced in a long time.
Even after the last of my giggles have died down, I do my best to hold onto that light tingly feeling that accompanies heavy laughter for as long as I can, because I don't know if or when I will ever experience it again and deep down in my heart, I know that this type of happy is what I want to feel everyday for the rest of my life.