This was a new start to my life. In a way, the old Juliet died with her mother. New Juliet had to learn to accept a fresh start. I promised myself I’d behave so my aunt and uncle wouldn’t have a reason to send me away…
“Juliet,” I breathed out when I finished, stunned by her words.
“It’s bad, right? Too maudlin?”
“I’m not sure what that means, but no. It’s very powerful. Raw.”
“I think she was looking for a positive life-changing event.” She glanced down and flicked the pages in her notebook. “But I don’t have one of those. I haven’t decided how to finish the assignment yet.”
“That’s because your story isn’t written. You still have a long road ahead of you.”
“I hope so.”
She tapped my pages on the table. “This is good. You’re really talented,” she said. I’m pretty sure it was the first time anyone said I was good at anything other than getting into trouble.
The compliment sucked in a way because my piece was completely superficial and lacked any real emotion. I wrote about how learning martial arts changed my life. The dull, predictable type of essay the teacher probably had in mind. I hadn’t sliced open a vein and bled all over the pages the way Juliet had.
“Is it true?” she asked.
“Mostly. One of my foster homes, the dad taught martial arts, so I learned from him.”
“Was it a good home?”
She seemed so genuinely concerned, I actually wanted to talk about it, something I hadn’t done in a long time.
“Yeah, they were nice people. Probably the best home I’ve been in.”
“What happened?”
“They had a baby.” I shrugged as if the memory didn’t sting. “My time was up.”
“Do you still keep in touch—”
I shook my head, cutting her off. “No, that’s discouraged.”
“That’s so sad.”
Her mouth turned down. She seemed so damn distressed by my story. Maybe I should’ve kept it to myself. I’d never thought of my situation as happy or sad.
It was all I knew.
Chapter Ten
Roman
The rest of the day wasn’t as exciting as my morning. I did manage to stay out of trouble. Doug and his friends avoided me.
Actually, everyone except Juliet acted like I had a contagious disease. Maybe word had spread that I was one of the kids from the group home. I didn’t dwell on it because I didn’t care.
Before our last class of the day, I found Juliet waiting for me, just as pretty as she’d been first thing this morning.
“We have to stop meeting this way,” she teased, stepping aside so I could chuck my books in the locker before we headed to art class.
I liked art. Maybe not as much as Pip enjoyed it, but I could draw a decent portrait if I had a worthy subject.
Juliet would be worth drawing.
Hell, my notebook already contained half a dozen doodles of her long hair, secret smile, and perfect profile.
It was a small, advanced art class taught by a somewhat eccentric middle-aged guy—Mr. Broom. I’d joined the class right before they started a section on photography. A subject that interested me, but I’d never had the luxury of exploring. Hell, I wasn’t even allowed to have a flip phone. While all my peers were busy snapping selfies and fucking around on social media, I was busy with therapy sessions, learning house rules, protecting myself, and chores.
There was an extra fee for this part of the class and I’d have to ask one of the counselors or my caseworker to approve it. I usually avoided asking for anything, but I didn’t want to drop out of the class.
We sat two to four kids to a table and naturally I sat right next to Juliet. So close our legs touched from thigh to knee. A thrill ran through me at the contact, and she peeked up at me as if she sensed it too.
After the opening lecture, Mr. Broom strolled through the room, passing out magazines that demonstrated different styles of photography.
Mr. Broom stopped by my table and leaned down. My whole body tensed, afraid I was already in trouble.
“Your fee has been taken care of, so you don’t need to worry about it, Mr. Hawkins,” he said quietly before straightening up and walking away.
It was a relief, but it also bothered me. Who paid it? The school? Mr. Broom? He didn’t even know me. My social worker? She barely seemed to know where I was half the time.
It was a mystery I couldn’t solve, but I was grateful that for once in my life something wouldn’t be a big deal. Grateful he went out of his way not to embarrass me, allowing me to avoid the shame of being the poor orphan begging for scraps.
We took the magazines home, and I was supposed to decide what subjects moved me. People, nature, animals, objects?
After class, I wanted to talk to Mr. Broom, but he was surrounded by students, so I followed Juliet into the hallway instead.