I have to pick my battles with her carefully. I lie to her a lot, I get into trouble sometimes, and I don’t back down from her too often … but I can see that this isn’t the time to fight. As much as I hate to, I’m going to have to do as I’m told.
I wait until she’s out of earshot before I roll right back out of bed with a loud groan. I stuff last night’s haul, just a measly ten bucks, into the end of shoes where even Ms. Martin won’t dare look. The old catholic church donation box used to such a great spot, too.
As soon as Rachel and Cassie have scuttled down from their beds, I pull the dress on and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I don’t have to wipe the steamed-up mirror to see why everyone thought Sadie and I looked so much alike. They said we could be twins, Sadie and I, but I never saw it. It’s more than our looks though. We are … or were, I guess, just so fundamentally different that simply sharing a face isn’t enough.
She was a princess and I’m a street girl. All she ever knew was privilege. All I’ve ever known is poverty. I pull down one of the sleeves of the black dress and use it to smudge the steam from the mirror, just for a moment, before it steams up again.
Sadie was basically perfect in every way. I don’t know about her, but I was always the ugly kid; awkward and plain. I swear it’s one of the reasons no one ever wanted to adopt me out of the foster system. No one wants the girl with big alien eyes and a problem sucking her thumb.
I’m not the homely little girl anymore, but I am still the girl on the outside looking in. Loner girl. Taking care of myself in a world that hasn’t given me a kind day in my life girl.
So no matter how hard I look, the differences are too obvious for me to ignore.
What else is obvious is the crappy, uncomfortable dress I’m wearing that’s two sizes too big, and makes me itch everywhere.
I’m seventeen. It might only be by a few days, but I still shouldn’t have to put up with this kind of crap. As soon as I age out of the New York foster system I’ll be out on my own, and I’m simultaneously excited for and terrified by it. My days with Ms. Martin are numbered. Thank god.
Her voice breaks over the sound of the running shower like a hyena cackle. I know this one. She’s on the phone with one of her friends, probably pacing through the living room while catching up on reality TV reruns she missed because she was passed out drunk over the weekend.
“I wish I could, but I’ve got to take the kids to a dumb funeral.”
Little snippets of her conversation cut through the sounds of Rachel switching out the shower with Cassie, who stops for a second to let me towel off the top of her head. Her short brown curls look a little thinner than I remember them, and I have to stuff down a twinge of guilt in the pit of my stomach. I’d always hoped these two would get adopted out before they got too old. But they arrived shortly after me last year and so far, it doesn’t look like they’re going anywhere soon.
Like me, they’re going to have to learn that this is the way life is.
“… girl ODed on her mother’s sleeping pills, oh yeah Heather, from what I heard the bitch has had a serious addiction.”
“What’s addiction?” Cassie asks, pausing as she reaches for her own toothbrush.
Shit. I slam the bathroom cabinet shut and turn heel to go.
“Uh nothing … she has a serious addition problem. She loves math. Now hurry up, I’m not going to take responsibility with Ms. Martin if you make us late.”
I turn on the faucet as high as I can to try to drown out the rest of Ms. Martin’s conversation before either of the girls asks any more tough questions. I should be harder on them, I know … teach them to stand up for themselves the way I had to learn. But I just can’t bring myself to do it.
Don’t get close. I remind myself. One day, they’ll be gone too.
They aren’t my sisters. They just live with me. For now.
Ms. Martin’s conversation continues in the other room, but I try my best to block it out. The steam that’s settled on my hair and skin turns into a cool film on my body as soon as I shut the door behind me and stand in the hall.
It’s rare that I’m surprised by anything, but I’ll admit … I didn’t expect this. Perfect little Sadie White, the poor little rich girl who has everything handed to her on a silver platter. The most popular girl in school. The prom queen. The cheerleading captain. Dead. All because she took something from mommy dearest’s medicine cabinet. I didn’t see that one coming.
I brush my hair and pull it back in a wavy ponytail. Someday I’m going to find a way to end this nightmare. I’ve always got my eyes open; ready for the moment when my golden opportunity will come, and when it does, I am going to grab it with both hands and do everything I can to change my whole world.
Chapter 2
Within a few minutes Ms. Martin totters out of her room and starts clapping her hands like an overexcited seal to try and get us out the door faster. She’s wearing an old dress that might have looked hip in the ‘70’s but combined with the rest of her look … I press my fingertips to my lips and snort, trying not to laugh out loud as I glance over her hair and makeup.
I don’t say anything to her as we head out, but she starts rambling and threatening me as we drive off. All I can do is stare outside at the passing streets and promise myself that one of these days I’ll get back at her for all she’s done.
“Don’t you do anything stupid while we’re at this thing. You be on your best behavior. Do you hear me?” She swivels her head around and shoots a death glare at me in the passenger’s seat. Her eyes stay glued on me waiting for a response until I’m worried she’s going to crash the car and quickly bark out a reply.
“Yes, Ms. Martin,” I recite to her. It’s the law around her house. We all have to call her that. Always.
She turns her eyes back to the road ahead and I am already counting the city blocks going past. The longer we drive the nicer the neighborhoods become; the cement blocks and abandoned shopping carts turn into long stretches of green grass and manicured lawns, and the Rottweilers on chains to small designer poodles in dog carriers.
We’re the first car to arrive at the facility where the funeral is being held. Ms. Martin pulls straight into the first