Trouble seemed to find me. Although I did create the trouble to begin with. I played with fire as they say. And, boy, did I get burned.
I, Chase Summers, just want to enjoy life. I don't know why people scold me for it. Living the life I've had, it's been difficult to find true happiness, but when I get glimpses of it, people desire to destroy my light. Adventure and drama and fun is what I crave. It used to be different. I used to be shy, and timid, and innocent, but I've grown into myself, found who I am, and I'm not scared of how I turned out, even though some are. One of my foster families actually branded me the devil upon having their fill of me, which only happened to be two weeks. I admit I am a lot to handle, but they were just grade A assholes. Now, they're shipping me off to England, London, to live with a 'cheerful' family in the city. I don't like fucking up the lives of my foster families, but the men in them are always drawn to me. And not having the best role models in life, I give into impulses, act on my thoughts, and live the life I want to live.
There are many girls who believe in feminism, that women should have equal rights to men, and treated with respect, but where are these women when I play the field like a man? When I take control of situations instead of play the damsel in distress who needs a knight in shining armour? They are the ones who are stabbing daggers in my back, the ones who call me a 'slut', the ones who say I have no self-respect. Fuck them.
Hauling my bag off the conveyer belt, I sat in baggage claim, exhausted after my flight. It was a fucking long way to England from California. I had never flown before, so the fear had crept in when the plane was taking off. I suppressed this fear, showing no one my anxiety and pushing through.
"Hey, baby, my friends and I were wondering if you needed help with your bag?" a teenage boy with a British accent strolled up to ask me. He wore a boyish grin plastered on his face. His hair was brownish blonde that flopped just over his forehead, eyes a dull blue color and wore sweat pants that hung in the middle of his butt. I had no idea why boys did that; did they think it looked cool? He glimpsed back at his friends, giving them a little laugh before looking back at me. I could have messed with him if I weren't so tired, but I shrugged him off, and perched on my suitcase, yawning.
After he stood there for some time, waiting for a reply, I stood up close to him, trying to give him the impression I was not to be messed with. I was short for a seventeen year old, at only 5'2, with bleached blonde locks that fell mid-back and baby blue eyes that gave me a sweet and innocent aura. I stared back into his eyes, baring into his soul to make him back down. My height never helped in these situations, many guys just laughed at my attempts to intimidate but I continued to try, hoping one day, I might actually accomplish it. As expected, he chuckled in my face, his breath smelled of bacon and onion. I narrowed my eyes at him, crossing my arms over my chest. I would have gotten into a fight I wouldn't have won with him, and his friends, but, peering at the clock, I shoved my body at his shoulder, heading to the door and to where people awaited family members or taxi drivers awaited returning travellers.
A tap on the shoulder made me snap my head around to a beaming couple who looked just as described, 'cheerful'. To me, they appeared a hippy couple, who actually enjoyed spending time with their family, meditating and play board games and going to the park. The female was a long-legged brunette with a floral flowing skirt paired with a tan tank top and khaki cardigan. She was quite beautiful, her demeanour easy-going and light. The male looked like a typical whipped father, wearing a blue polo shirt and beige pants. His hair was combed and parted, color matching that of the woman's. They both too had glossy brown eyes, full of hope and light. Fuck, maybe these two would actually be kind for once, maybe I could stick it out here.
"Oh, wow, you must be Chase!" the woman screamed in a British accent, overwhelming me with a welcoming hug. Her long arms wrapped tightly around my petite body, squeezing me until my lungs no longer had the ability to expand to take in air. Releasing me from her grip, she stepped back, her orbs studying me. "You are gorgeous, aren't you? Sorry, I'm Fiona Tessler, just call me Fiona, none of that Mrs Tessler rubbish. This is my husband, Mike," she explains, gesturing to the man behind her. He smiled at me widely before giving me a quick hug, a little less enthusiastic than his wife. I was grateful for the toned down welcome he gave, as I believed he knew. "Come, honey, the boys are going to love meeting you." Boys? God, I could not do this again. I was seventeen, almost getting out of this whole cycle of being tossed around from foster home to foster home. One more year to stick out, and I was free. I needed this one to be my last.
Attempting to meet Fiona's eagerness, I introduced myself properly, making a first good impression. I clambered into their seven-seater SUV, I couldn't help but wonder how many children they had. As we drove, the couple chatted amongst themselves, occasionally asking me questions which I gave simple concise answers to, not wanting to divulge too much about myself yet. These people weren't ready for that, and neither was I. I was never really close to any of my foster families; I felt I could never let my guard down and be honest. These people appeared 'nice' but that could easily change. Maybe they were trying to butter me up. When we came to a halt, I braced myself for this new adventure, an entire new country to conquer as my own. My confidence needed to be unwavering and I was going to make sure everyone else knew that. I had learned long ago that weakness in the life I was living wasn't going to get me far. I hopped out of the SUV and saw the home I was going to be living in. They lived in council estate, which seemed decent enough, I had lived in worse, but I was wary because of the car. If they had that many seats, it must be a big family. It must get overcrowded living in a tight space. I was let to the third floor and through a blue painted door that had claw marks towards the bottom. I entered to find the place bigger than I had anticipated, several rooms filled with clothing and toys, decorated - some with posters and other with picture frames. I assumed it separated adult spaces to child spaces.
Entering the kitchen, I was met with three new faces, all boys. One with his feet on the table, slouched in his chair listening to music whilst banging his head to the beat. Another on the tiled floor, rolling a toy truck along it. The last by the toaster, spreading peanut butter on his toast and almost tripping over the boy on the floor. When I walked in, their attention immediately focused on me, eyes opening wide as if they had never seen a girl before.
"Boys, this is Chase, Chase, this one here is Kal, our youngest," Fiona announced, pointing to the little boy in the floor. He giggled at me, and I returned with a smile. "This one here is Robbie, second youngest." She gestured to the boy eating. He waved a little, still stuck in shock. "And this is Eric." I look to the boy with the MP3 who just stares at me, not even blinking.
"Hi, it's nice to meet you all," I declared, and in response, got a grunt from Eric, a nod from Robbie and a cute little hug from Kal. I turned to Fiona and said, "your family all seem very welcoming. I'm sure I'll love it here. Thank you for having me."
"No need for thank yous. I always wanted another girl in the house. You haven't met our eldest yet though, he can be a bit... moody at times. He's your age as well, although I'm not sure you'll be able to get a tour of the school from him. I will definitely ask," Fiona replied and I nodded my head. Another boy, my age. Shit, I couldn't fuck up again. But could I stay out of trouble?