Sequel: Postcards From... ›
Status: Re-written
The Club Is Open Until 8:00Pm
Vingt Quatre
Since Joanne was working tonight, Steve got drafted into taking me to the center so Mrs. Beckett could "evaluate" my progress with Stevens. This usually happens every 3 months, but Mrs. Beckett had something planned for the original date in May, so it's today. The Stevens got me in September. I had a meeting in November, then in February and then originally in May. The next meeting is in August. All depending on if I'm still with the Stevens.
Steve pulled up into the Little Lonely Ones Foster Care Center's parking lot. He parked relativity close and killed the engine. "Better hurry this up." He said. He always felt really awkward at these meetings. He sighed and opened the door for me. I walked in mutely. Steve followed suit.
As soon as I was in, I went straight to her office. I didn't wanna see anyone. I didn't want to recognize them. Too late. I saw Nathalie St. Pierre, just before seeing Mrs. Beckett's smiling, "welcoming" face.
There is always two chairs in her office facing her desk. One of them likes to try and eat me. Left, that was were I sat. Always. Every time. Like always, as soon as I sit down, the chair, were the cushion meets cushion, would try and swallow me. Steve in the right chair and Mrs. Beckett at her desk, completely oblivious to the ordeal. Eaten in silence.
"So, Monet, how've you been?" Mrs. Beckett always stated each meeting the same. That question, fingers crossed, smile on face. I always answered the same way. Nothing. "Anything new happen lately?" Nothing. "Please answer her." Steve kinda pleaded. "Nope." I said to make him happy. "Nope what?" He asked. "Nothing new." I gave. They both sighed. At least this time I said something.
They went over everything. Grades, behaviors, friends, hobbies, Andy, pressure, monet, etc. all in front of me. Yeah, because they didn't know that I had had a bad season selling illegal drugs on the black market. I rolled my eyes. Needless to say, the meeting didn't end soon enough.
...
When it finally did end, it always ended the same. 'Goodbye Monet, I'll see you again on [insert month here]' and of course. '...' from me. I didn't see anyone or anything coming out. Once in the van I cranked up my ipod, the only one i have with the broken screen, and Steve took his time to drive home, thinking I just wanted to be out of the house for once.
It was raining.
Steve pulled up into the Little Lonely Ones Foster Care Center's parking lot. He parked relativity close and killed the engine. "Better hurry this up." He said. He always felt really awkward at these meetings. He sighed and opened the door for me. I walked in mutely. Steve followed suit.
As soon as I was in, I went straight to her office. I didn't wanna see anyone. I didn't want to recognize them. Too late. I saw Nathalie St. Pierre, just before seeing Mrs. Beckett's smiling, "welcoming" face.
There is always two chairs in her office facing her desk. One of them likes to try and eat me. Left, that was were I sat. Always. Every time. Like always, as soon as I sit down, the chair, were the cushion meets cushion, would try and swallow me. Steve in the right chair and Mrs. Beckett at her desk, completely oblivious to the ordeal. Eaten in silence.
"So, Monet, how've you been?" Mrs. Beckett always stated each meeting the same. That question, fingers crossed, smile on face. I always answered the same way. Nothing. "Anything new happen lately?" Nothing. "Please answer her." Steve kinda pleaded. "Nope." I said to make him happy. "Nope what?" He asked. "Nothing new." I gave. They both sighed. At least this time I said something.
They went over everything. Grades, behaviors, friends, hobbies, Andy, pressure, monet, etc. all in front of me. Yeah, because they didn't know that I had had a bad season selling illegal drugs on the black market. I rolled my eyes. Needless to say, the meeting didn't end soon enough.
...
When it finally did end, it always ended the same. 'Goodbye Monet, I'll see you again on [insert month here]' and of course. '...' from me. I didn't see anyone or anything coming out. Once in the van I cranked up my ipod, the only one i have with the broken screen, and Steve took his time to drive home, thinking I just wanted to be out of the house for once.
It was raining.
♠ ♠ ♠
ok so another shorty, but hey, shorties are fun...right?Funsize?
Maybe not.
So i promised you another chapter since the last one was a filler and short and you got it.
ENJOY!!!!!!