1. Motherfucking Pineapple
Destiny’s POV
The closer we got to the house, the tighter the knot in my stomach grew.
I clutched my worn leather backpack to my chest like a safety blanket, eyes locked on the blur of neighborhoods flying past the window. I’d been through this routine too many times — bags packed, name scribbled on a new file, promises that this time would be different. But it never was.
And still, I hoped.
“Destiny, sweetheart?” Mrs. Cooke’s voice pulled me back. She glanced at me through the rearview mirror, her forehead creased with concern. “You’re looking paler than usual. You okay back there?”
I tried to nod, but it came out stiff. “Just nervous.”
“Nervous is normal.” She gave me a soft smile. “But you don’t have to be scared, baby. This family… they’re good people. I know I’ve said that before, but I mean it this time.”
I looked up, finally meeting her eyes. “What if they don’t like me?”
Mrs. Cooke pulled the car into the driveway and parked, turning around in her seat to face me. She reached over and placed her hand gently on top of mine, her touch warm and grounding.
“If they don’t like you, they’re blind,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’ve got a good heart, Destiny. You’re smart, kind, strong — stronger than you should ever have to be. If this doesn’t work out, you call me. No matter what time it is. I’m still your person.”
That got a small smile out of me — weak, but real.
She nodded toward the front door. “Let’s go meet your new family.”
The walk up to the porch felt like a mile. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and tried to breathe evenly, but my nerves were louder than my footsteps. The house was huge — modern and clean with tall windows, fancy landscaping, and a security camera blinking above the doorbell. They were definitely rich. Probably perfect. Probably already regretting this.
Mrs. Cooke gave me a look and gestured to the bell. “Go ahead.”
I pressed it with a shaky finger, bracing myself.
A few seconds passed before the door opened — and there they were.
Kerry, my new foster mom, looked soft and glowing, with a tiny baby bump visible beneath her cream knit dress. She had kind eyes. Pregnant with twins, Mrs. Cooke had said.
Beside her stood my new foster dad. Tall, with bright blue eyes and an easy smile, he wrapped an arm around Kerry’s shoulder as if to say, We’ve got you.
They looked like they belonged in a magazine. Beautiful. Warm. Too good to be real.
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
Please let this be different.
(Kerry pictured above)
(Michael pictured above)
Mrs. Cooke stepped forward to greet them while I stood awkwardly behind her, clutching my bag like a shield.
The man — tall, broad shoulders, clean-shaven with those piercing blue eyes — offered me a warm, reassuring smile. The woman beside him, the one I’d met briefly before, lit up like Christmas morning. Her hand flew to her mouth in excitement.
“Oh my God, Destiny! You look even more beautiful than I remember!” she gushed, before pulling me into a tight hug without hesitation.
My body tensed on instinct, but I made myself relax. After a beat, I hugged her back.
“Welcome home, honey,” she whispered against my ear, voice sweet and calm. “I promise, you’re gonna love it here.”
She pulled back, beaming at me like she truly believed that. I didn’t know what to say — so I just nodded, tight-lipped.
“It looks like you all can take it from here,” Mrs. Cooke chimed in, turning to me one last time.
“Remember what I told you,” she said, pulling me in for a hug and kissing my cheek. “Any time. Day or night.”
“Okay,” I whispered, my voice barely steady.
I watched her get back in her car and pull off. My chest felt heavy — like her leaving made everything suddenly more real.
When I turned around, the couple was still smiling at me, full of warmth like they were trying to will me into comfort.
“Let me grab your bags,” the man said easily, already lifting both my suitcases like they weighed nothing. “Your room’s all set up, waiting for you.”
“Come on in, sweetie!” the woman — Kerry — said, looping her arm through mine. “Let me introduce you to everyone. And if you don’t remember, I’m Kerry. But you can call me whatever you feel comfortable with, okay?”
I gave her a small nod as we stepped into the house.
And then I saw it.
The place was… insane. One of those Pinterest-perfect open layouts — the kind of home that felt like it belonged on TV.
My jaw damn near dropped.
No lie, it looked like the kind of house where people didn’t just live… they thrived.
And now, somehow, I was supposed to fit into it.
“Nice to meet you, Kerry,” I said politely, trying to keep my voice from shaking. I already knew their last name wasTesfaye. She’s Ethiopian, I think, and he’s from Chicago. Mrs. Cooke gave me the rundown before we arrived — Kerry’s thirty-five, Michael just turned thirty-six, and apparently, they had their first kid young.
“Oh, sweetheart, you can call me Mom if you’d like!” Kerry beamed, gently squeezing my shoulder. “I want you to officially meet my husband, Michael. He was away on a business trip when we first met, so this is long overdue.”
Michael stepped forward with a bright, easy smile. He shook my hand, then pulled me into a quick, fatherly hug — the kind that almost made me flinch.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Destiny. Really. Make yourself at home. My wife and I are thrilled to have you here. Once you’re settled in, we have a few surprises for you,” he said, that grin still plastered across his face.
I forced a polite smile back. “Thanks.”
But inside, my guard was way up.
This shit was too perfect. Too warm. Too welcoming. People don’t act like this for no reason. What’s the catch? Are they trying to fatten me up and sell me off? Pimp me out? Harvest my organs?
“Okay,” Kerry chirped, snapping me from my thoughts. “Mike’s gonna take your bags upstairs. You’ll be on the third floor — your room’s right next to our son Abel’s, near the guest rooms. I’ll show you in a bit, but first, let me introduce you to my other child and give you the grand tour!”
I nodded stiffly, still trying to process everything, and followed her through the house.
It was crazy— marble floors, vaulted ceilings, a kitchen straight out of a cooking show. They even had freaking elevators inside the house like a fucking hotel.
She led me through room after room with giddy pride, pointing out everything like we were walking through some luxury Airbnb listing.
“Oh, and we have a guest house out back, tennis and basketball courts, an in-home spa, and a private movie theater.”
My mouth probably hit the floor. All I could think was: What the hell kind of foster family is this?
We finally reached a door at the end of the hallway, and Kerry opened it to reveal a bright, colorful playroom.
An adorable little girl on the floor with her dolls looked up, squealed, and ran straight toward us.
“Hi, cutie.” I gave her a small wave.
“Are you my new big sister?” she asked, eyes wide with excitement.
I smiled and nodded. “Looks like it.”
She squealed again and wrapped her tiny arms around my legs, squeezing me like a stuffed animal.
“Cherish, baby—let Destiny breathe!” Kerry laughed, trying to gently pry her off.
I giggled and squatted down to her level once she let go. I’ve always loved kids.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Cherish. You’re really pretty.” I smoothed my hand over her thick curls.
She played with the ends of my hair. “Thank you, Destiny! So are you. You look like one of my dollies! I can’t wait to play with you! We can watch Disney movies, play video games, and—”
“Cherish!” Kerry gently interrupted with a chuckle. “Let Destiny get settled first. You’ll have plenty of time to play later, okay?”
“Okay,” Cherish pouted, but gave me one more hug before skipping back to her dolls.
“Alright,” Kerry said, turning back toward the hallway. “Now let’s go meet my son, Abel.”
We climbed the winding staircase until we stopped outside a closed door at the end of the third floor.
Music pulsed from behind it—loud, bass-heavy, and aggressive. The kind that makes the floor vibrate.
“Abel! Open up!” Kerry knocked, raising her voice over the noise. “I want you to meet Destiny!”
No response.
She sighed and shook her head. “I swear, this boy drives me insane. Hold tight, I’ll grab the key.” She turned and headed for the elevator, muttering something under her breath about teenagers.
As I waited, I caught a strange smell seeping out from under the door. My nose wrinkled.
Is that weed?
I bent down slightly to get a closer whiff, and yeah—it was definitely weed.
Seriously? In the middle of the day? With his mom and little sister home?
This kid’s already giving “problem child” energy.
Kerry returned a minute later, key in hand, and let us in.
The room was pitch black except for the soft glow from neon lights beneath the mounted speakers. A huge TV flickered quietly in the corner. Clothes and shoes were scattered across the sleek black floor. Curtains drawn. Every single surface—walls, bedding, decor—black on black.
Was this kid a vampire or something?
She flipped the light on, and there he was—lounging in bed like he had no care in the world.
Black hoodie. Black sweatpants. Legs stretched out, a laptop open across his thighs, and massive black AirPods Max covering his ears.
He paused whatever beat he was nodding along to and slowly looked up, eyes low and red-rimmed. A blunt dangled between his fingers.
His gaze flicked from me… to his mom.
And he said nothing.
“What are you doing busting into my room like that? I already told you I don’t like that shit!” he snapped, eyes burning with irritation as he yanked off his headphones.
I blinked, caught off guard by how disrespectful he was speaking to his mother. Like, no hesitation. No filter.
“You watch your goddamn mouth, Abel!” Kerry snapped back, not missing a beat. “I already told you about bringing this mess into my house!”
She stormed forward, snatched the half-smoked blunt right out of his hand, and marched toward his bathroom. Abel jumped up off the bed, visibly pissed, but didn’t stop her.
I watched in stunned silence as she flushed it down the toilet. My eyes widened again.
“I’m tired of this fuckin’ shit, yo,” he muttered, voice low but heated, slamming his laptop shut like it offended him.
He brushed past me hard on the way out, shoulder colliding with mine like I wasn’t even there. My body jolted back slightly. I clutched my shoulder, frowning. Damn. Who the fuck does he think he is?
Kerry followed him, yelling after his retreating figure. “I can’t believe you’re acting like this, Abel! You’re so damn rude. You didn’t even say hi to Destiny—and it’s her first day here! You’re setting a bad example right now!”
He stopped halfway down the hall and turned around slowly, fixing his eyes on me.
My breath caught.
His stare was intense. Unapologetic. Like he was trying to figure out what I was made of just by looking.
Then he smirked, his gaze dropping from my face to my shoes and back up like I was being measured.
“She look like a damn poodle,” he muttered. “I thought we already had a puppy.”
He chuckled to himself like he just said something clever.
My mouth dropped open. Did this boy just...?
“Abel!” Kerry snapped, slapping the back of his head. “That’s not funny. Apologize. Now.”
He tugged his hoodie up like he couldn’t be bothered. “Man, whatever. Don’t touch none of my shit and we’re good, Poodle.”
Then he turned and jogged down the stairs like the devil wasn’t waiting for him at the bottom.
“You better run, boy! You're lucky I can’t catch you! I’ll let your father deal with you!” Kerry shouted after him, frustrated and embarrassed.
Then she turned to me, sighing. “I'm so sorry about that, sweetheart. He’s not always like this. He’s been... going through a phase.”
Yeah, okay.
A rude ass, pineapple-headed menace just tried me. I bit the inside of my cheek and nodded politely, but my blood was boiling.
I didn’t even know this dude, and I already hated his ass.
If this is what I gotta deal with living here? I should’ve just stayed in foster care. For real.
