Throw Away Teen (3 page)

Carol had her hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh.

“
Go ahead,” I said in my nastiest tone. “Crack up. So happy I could be your little floor show.” I slumped against the car. “Can we go now? This really isn’t going to work. And if the Driscolls think it will, they’re freakin’ crazy. Then I’ll be the one laughing.”

“
It’ll work, B.J.” She kept giggling. “You just have to try,” she added more seriously.

I tuned her out.
Trying
was her favorite lecture.

Remembering I’d forgotten Gabe’s coat, I opened the car door and flipped the black leather jacket defiantly around my shoulders. Carol’s eyes widened and I figured she probably thought I stole it. Let her.

“
Gabe’s going to be pissed when he comes up missing that. Let me take it back to him. He’ll just think he forgot it in my office.”

“
No way.” I tossed my head. “Let’s get this over with. Then we can be back at Evergreen in time for dinner.”

“
You’re staying here, B.J.” Carol paused. “One more thing. Don’t call Gabe this weekend. It’s about time you broke off this little infatuation you have with him. He’s bad news and unless he makes some serious changes, he’ll be doing hard time in prison sooner or later.”

“
Gabe’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” I said. “And don’t think you can tell me how to run my life.”

As soon as he turned eighteen, Gabe planned to join the Marines. He was anxious to have real weapons training and show all those idiots who tried to hurt him or treated him like garbage just how strong he was. He’d already talked to a couple of recruiters and they’d told him he needed his high school diploma to enlist. That was the only reason he tolerated high school. So, he wouldn’t be in a prison. Iraq or Afghanistan or wherever the next hot-spot was, yes. Jail, no.

I headed for the house and she caught up with me in a few long strides. The front door flew open and Liz bustled down the porch steps. She was barely taller than me and plump as a ripe tomato in a red sweatshirt. Her long hair flowed down her back almost to the butt of her jeans. She looked nice, homey, motherly, and totally not my type.

Smiling all the way up to her hazel eyes, she sounded almost sincere when she said, “B.J., I’m so glad you’re here. After this weekend, we’ll be able to convince Carol that you should stay for good.” She slung an arm around my shoulders and tried to hug me. For a moment, I almost let her, then I pulled loose and stepped away.

“
I’m not the touchy-feely type.”

“
Well I am, so you’ll just have to get used to it.”

Geez, was that the adult answer for everything?
Get used to it
? She didn’t sound mad or upset. Not at all like other foster parents who played the brown-noser in front of caseworkers and then treated me like dirt the moment we were alone.

I stared at her, trying to keep my confusion from showing on my face. What was wrong with her? Did she have “old-timers” disease or what? I was dressed like a slut, had on enough makeup to make stage performers jealous and was implementing my tried and true methods for alienating those around me and she was still all smiles. She was a better actress than I gave her credit for.

Or could she really mean it? Was I actually welcome here?

No. No way. Not me. I was B.J. Larson after all, the
Princess of Passing Through
.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and fastened my perfected sneer on my face. “Let’s talk about it on Sunday night.”
If I’m still here by then
.

“
Okay.” Liz put her arm around my shoulders again and this time I let her. Let her think she was winning me over. She led me toward the house, happily babbling about the room she fixed up for me. They’d painted it blue because she remembered I’d said it was one of my favorite colors. She’d bought new curtains and a matching new bedspread as well.

This couple was seriously nuts. Didn’t they get the memo that foster parents don’t decorate rooms for foster kids? You got whatever they gave you and it wasn’t much. I glanced over my shoulder at Carol. She just grinned at me. Did I miss the sign on the mailbox that said
Sanitarium
?

When we reached the porch, a tall, slender blonde in a navy suit waited. Who was she? The family lawyer? She swept me with a glacier blue gaze. “So, this is your new pet, Mother?”

“
Watch it, Jocelyn,” Liz said, her smile starting to fade. Then, she pasted it on again. “B.J., this is my daughter. She came to meet you.”

The Ice Queen stared at me then wrinkled her nose as though she smelled something foul. I almost lifted my arm to sniff my pits. And for this I put on deodorant, so a thirty-plus-something could treat me like dirt.

“
B.J.,” she sneered. “Well, we all know what the boys must think of you.”

I caught my breath, feeling my nails bite into my palms. Could I break away from Liz and kick this bitch’s butt before anybody stopped me?

Liz’s arm tightened around my shoulders. “Okay, that’s enough. You can go.”

“
All right,” I said, flicking a quick glance over my shoulder at Carol. “Just tell your boy-toy to bring back my stuff, Liz. Let’s go, Carol. If you let me drive, we’ll be back at Evergreen in time for dinner. It’s pizza night.”

“
Not you,” Liz glanced at me. “Jocelyn. She’s leaving now. She’ll be back when she remembers the manners I taught her.”

“
Oh, damn.” I heaved a dramatic sigh and rolled my eyes at the Barbie doll. “Guess that power suit didn’t work. Better luck next time. I’m rooting for you.”

She stormed past me and stomped down the path, her heels stabbing holes into the dirt.

I’d made another enemy, but what else was new? I turned to Liz. “Hey, it’s been a blast, but honestly we can go. I don’t want to be blamed for screwing up things with your ‘real’ kid.”

Liz smiled and gave me another quick hug. “Oh, don’t worry about Jocelyn, honey. She’s a bit spoiled but she’ll come to love you just as much as Ted and I do.”

That was enough to gag a maggot. I tried not to puke. Who did this old lady think she was fooling? Love was for suckers. And there was no way that I’d ever get along with Jocelyn. She’d started a war with the “name” crap.

But I didn’t get a chance to say anything before Liz opened the front door. Every dog in the world came racing at me. Barking, snarling, snapping and leaping. I froze. I couldn’t move, could barely breathe. They kept coming. Crap, they were going to get me!

I struggled to step back, but Liz’s hold tightened on my shoulders. Carol grabbed my arms. Oh God, they were planning to feed me to the dogs! I closed my eyes, expecting the pain of dozens of fangs sinking into my legs at any moment.

“
Shut up!” Liz yelled, sounding just like a cop.

But I wasn’t even talking. I looked back at the dogs again. Poised, mouths open and drooling, enormous fangs gleaming. I was definitely lunch. That is if they’d had breakfast and from the way they hovered in anticipation, I doubted it.

“
Sit,” Liz ordered in a hard voice.

What? Where? There weren’t any chairs in the hall. There was nowhere for me to sit but on the floor. I let my legs give out, but their arms still held me upright. How did they expect me to obey if they wouldn’t let me?

The dogs flopped to the hard wood floor with a thud, each obeying the command in their own way.

Oh, she was talking to them, not me. I straightened and the grip on me relaxed.

The biggest dog stood eyeballing me. It reminded me of the Doberman Pinscher the cop who arrested me for auto theft owned. It had stared at me through the bars from its perch in the passenger seat of the squad car, its foul breath filling the space between us.

The Doberman started forward and I stepped back. Carol’s car keys were sandwiched between my upper arm and her hand where she still kept hold of me. Could I grab them and make it out to the Escort before the dog ripped my throat out?

“
That’s Bull,” Liz said. “He’s hard of hearing.” She raised her voice, repeating the command for him to sit. He did, emitting a sound like a sigh.

The immediate threat averted, I took a deep breath and counted the dogs. There were actually only four of them. Bull sat next to a German shepherd. Two matching fluffy gold and white dust-mop types flanked either side of them. They all sat quietly watching us.

So, why could I still hear barking? I looked at Liz. “You have more?”

“
First, let’s introduce you to these old duffers.” Liz smiled at me. “They’re supposed to be watch-dogs. Ted says they’d watch the robbers come, watch them load everything up and then watch them go.”

“
I don’t know about that.” Hoping none of them had noticed my apprehension, I jerked away from Carol. I was so going to get her for this fiasco.

Liz took one of my hands and held it out for the dogs like it was a treat. I tried to pull away, but she held it in place. The German Shepherd took one whiff and slunk back. “Fifi’s previous owners beat her a lot,” Liz explained.

I felt a twinge of sympathy, but only for a moment. She was a freakin’ dog after all. Liz crouched down, tugging my fingers toward the fluffy piranha twins who practically drooled at the prospect of snapping off my fingers. And for this, I’d painted my nails bright red.

“
These two darlings are Samson and Delilah,” Liz said. “They’re pom-a-poos.”

The poo clones licked my fingers, but I pulled my hand back before they could actually bite me. I hadn’t realized dogs were like raccoons and washed their food before they ate it. Fifi and I looked at each other, but she hunkered by Bull and kept out of reach. We might get along just fine. She felt the same way about strangers as I did.

The pom-whatevers were a different matter. I carefully circled around them and followed Liz down the hall. Carol stayed behind with the dogs, petting them and talking to them in that stupid voice adults use when talking to babies. She’d obviously met them before and deliberately didn’t tell me about them.
Bitch!

Did she know how scared I was of dogs? Probably. It was one of the many secrets I kept from those around me, but it wouldn’t have been hard for her to figure out. And if she’d mentioned the word
dogs
, screw our deal. She could win all the poker games she wanted, but when it came to dogs, all bets were off.

Liz led the way down the hall to a closed door. “Go ahead, honey. Open it.”

Maybe this was the torture chamber. I could hear a tiny, thin barking sound coming from the other side. Great, just as I thought, more dogs. I might be scared, but I refused to show it. I had a reputation to uphold after all.

Bull came to join us, squeezing his sleek body between me and the door. Then, he whined and pawed at the door, wanting me to open it, too.

Taking a deep breath, I twisted the knob. A little black, gray, and white dog charged forward. I jumped back just in time. It yipped at Bull, bypassed Fifi and tackled the poops twins. It landed on Samson, or was it Delilah? The little puff ball barked and took a running leap at them again, only to have Delilah, or was it Samson, snarl and bat him away.

It rolled, tumbling toward my feet. I resisted the urge to bat it away as well. He righted himself and sat in the middle of the hallway, emitting a noise similar to that of a baby crying. I waited, but Liz and Carol just stood there letting the little dog howl. His cries reminded me of the younger kids at the youth center when they woke up from nightmares.

Delilah, or was it Samson, continued to snarl at him. Not wanting the dust-mop piranha to use him as a football again, I picked him up, holding the crybaby at arm’s length. “Oh, stop sniveling. If you act tough, the other dogs won’t push you around so much.”

He whimpered again then wiggled toward me, his tongue seeking out my face, and covered my cheek and mouth with doggie kisses before I could pull him away again. Yuck! I had a mind to drop the little scumball on his rump again. But then he would be at the mercy of the bigger dogs. He didn’t have a clue how to protect himself, not to mention he was a total pushover. I carried him over to Liz and held him out to her. “You better lock this back up again.”

“
He’s half Purple Heeler and half Collie, just eight weeks old.” Liz gently pushed the fur-ball toward me. “Ted got him for you.”

“
What? For me?” I stared down at the dog.
Okay, puppy
. He was trying to lap at my face again. Dogs couldn’t strip your flesh just by licking you, could they? “Uh, what’s his name?”

“
Whatever you want,” Liz said. “I don’t see how anyone can get through life without their own dog.”

“
You’re kidding, right?” I stared at her and then again at the puppy in my arms. I’d gotten along just fine without a pet for fifteen years. Seriously, what was up with these people? How did they know I could even be trusted with something so little? Weren’t they afraid I’d skin it and eat it raw or something? He didn’t weigh much, maybe five or six pounds. That could feed a whole family in Ethiopia for days. “I’m not really into dogs.”

“
Have you ever had one before?” Liz asked, tilting her head to one side.

“
No.” Why hadn’t I put this wriggly little mutt down yet? I just held him while he kept trying to slobber me with his stupid kisses. Honestly. He was like an anteater or that dog in the comics with the insanely huge tongue.

“
You can’t be in 4-H without a dog.” Ringo showed up in the doorway of another room.

More puppy kisses. I held the dog by his armpits so I could meet his beady little eyes. “Look, enough already. Where’s your dignity? You’re a man, aren’t you?” How did you check a dog for gender anyway? I cleared my throat, praying my face hadn’t just turned bright red. “Act like Bull. You don’t see him kissing all over me, do ya?”