“You think you’re so tough. We’ll see how tough you are once Mr. Beretti gets home,” the girl teased maliciously.
I turned around and faced the girl again. She was really pretty with long, dark hair and blue eyes. She was thin without being a waif. She dressed in a way I had never been able to pull off. Stylish and attractive. Most of my wardrobe was bought with the idea of covering up my overly large boobs and womanly hips.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded. The girl walked into my new bedroom and yanked on the collar of my shirt, pulling it down so that it exposed my boobs.
“Damn, you’re huge. Mr. Beretti’s gonna love those,” the girl smirked, though I saw something that looked like fear in her eyes. It terrified me.
“So the foster dad likes young girls I take it,” I deduced, ripping my shirt from her hands and straightening it. Just great. I had had my fair share of overly touchy foster dads in the last few years. As I got older, the bolder they became. But I had learned a few tricks to protect myself ever since living with Mr. and Mrs. Owens when I was nine.
The beautiful girl in front of me tucked her hair behind her ears and leveled me with a hard look that told me she too had been forced to protect herself on more than one occasion.
“You’re pretty. He likes the pretty ones,” she said softly, her badass act disappearing completely.
I sat down on my bed, a lump in my stomach. “Does he like you too?” I had to ask her.
She nodded. “He likes me a lot,” she whispered, looking over her shoulder as though scared that someone would hear her.
“What’s your name?” I asked her.
“Dania. What about you?”
“I’m Ellie,” I said.
“How old are you?” I asked.
Dania chewed on her lip. “How old do I look?”
Huh?
“Uh, I don’t know. Seventeen maybe,” I hedged.
Dania grinned, her mood changing on a dime. “Awesome! I just got a fake ID that says I’m twenty-one. Do you think I could pass for twenty-one?”
Yeah, she definitely could. This girl seemed way older than me.
I shrugged. “Sure,” I replied.
“I’m fourteen,” she stated, putting her hands on her hips and striking some sort of pose. Who the hell was this girl?
“Yeah, me too,” I said. Weren’t we just talking about my new foster dad, the pervy Mr. Beretti? Now we were talking about Dania’s fake ID? I couldn’t keep up.
“Cool. Well, I’ve got to start my chores before Mrs. Beretti comes up here looking for me.” Dania started to leave my room before turning back to me.
“You have my back, I’ll have yours, ‘kay?”
I frowned. I didn’t entirely trust this girl to have anyone’s back. She seemed to have a few screws loose. But I figured it was easier to agree than to start an argument.
“Sure,” I answered.
“Good,” Dania said, smiling.
**
Murphy came bounding toward me as I walked inside. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and I laughed at his efforts to get me to pet him.
“Yeah, okay. Attention now,” I cooed, dropping to my haunches and scratching him behind the ears. There was music playing and I stood up and walked into the living room looking for Flynn. I had seen his car out front so I knew that he was home.
I didn’t yell for him because I knew it bugged him when I did that. He didn’t like shouting and loud noises so instead I walked around looking for him. I recognized The Cure playing on the stereo and shook my head. If I didn’t love Flynn so much I’d burn each and every one of his Cure CDs. I had been cured of my own questionable Cure obsession now that I was subjected to it daily.
