Page 9 of Claiming What's Mine

My plan was to leave this crappy town the first second I could and never look back. I'd runaway now, but I knew they'd just bring me home. And my little sister needed me. I wouldn't leave until it was safe for both of us.

“What, you're not going to follow me anymore?” Turning around, I walked backwards slowly, slipping my thumbs into the loops on my pants.

Shaking her head, she said, “Nope, not allowed to go past the grass.”

“Well then, this is where I say goodbye.” Holding my hand to my forehead, I saluted her. “Goodbye, little Blue bird.”

Blue sat down in the grass, tucking her knees up into her dress and wrapping her arms around her legs. “It's not goodbye, we're neighbors, I'll see you again.”

I was twelve when I first met Betty-Sue (Blue) Fable. Twelve would turn out to be my lucky number that day.

I had found twelve good apples on the ground at Mrs. Vicki's apple orchard. Twelve pennies had been stacked on the bench for the bus, and no one was around to say I couldn't claim them.

It took me twelve minutes to finish the milkshake I was able to convince the waitress at the diner to give me for free. She really didn't want to, but I batted my little boy lashes and put on my cutest pretty please face, and she couldn't say no.

She also said I reminded her of her grandson who lived on the other side of the country, so that probably helped too.

I was a twelve year old boy, with no rules, no one looking out for me, and a father who acted like life would be better if I just vanished.

My home had cracks in the ceiling and a floor that was uneven. My clothes were more than used, they were second hand to the sixth degree, with holes and tears, resewed buttons and stretched out collars.

Most of the time I looked like a boy who had his older brother's hand-me-downs. They were all too big, too loose, and too ragged.

And then there was Blue, a girl who couldn't leave the safety of her front yard because her parents cared. A girl whose home had lacy yellow curtains and flowers on the front porch. A girl in expensive clothes, with hair that smelled like lilacs, and shoes that were made of real leather.

We had nothing in common.

And I never planned to see her again.

Not if I could help it.

But fate was a funny little thing.

Chapter Two

Jayden

---