Fatal Attraction

Christmas. A time of laughter and joy. Well, usually. This year, Christmas was dreary. With Michelle gone, my foster parents mopped about, mourning the loss of their fake daughter. The younger children had gotten over it. Dylan, however, had not. He was very rightfully blessed with guilt. He is the reason that she is dead and he knows it. He hasn't told our foster parents yet; I doubt he ever will. But if he doesn't soon, I will.

Over the past few months, I had become more confident with my voice. I had been speaking up for myself more in school and at home. I voiced my opinion even where it was unwelcome. My new self confidence landed me in ISS for shoving somebody into a locker as hard as I could. That person, evidently, had been Stephanie. She was being her usual bitchy self and deserved a little shove. She never saw it coming, much to my delight.

Tony and I had grown closer. We had even grown to the status of friends, one might say. He was a daily member of our lunch table nowadays, often watching me draw. Sometimes we would sit in silence and eat, doing homework or artistic things. I learned that Tony could be funny once you pulled him out of his shell. Ironically, he loves turtles. He also loves Star Wars and he plays guitar. I was a little bit envious; I wish I could play an instrument.

Once our friendship had been established, I decided to open up to him about my family, how they died and how I was living in a foster home with people I didn't have a place in my heart for. I spilled everything that night; we had been out drinking, something I hadn't done in months. But, Tony needed a release, and the alcohol seemed appealing at the time. It hit me like a ton of bricks and I just exploded. I'm pretty sure I ended up crying at the end of that night, but I don't remember.

That was Halloween night. Two holidays later, and Tony and I have stuck by each other's sides. It's hard for him to be the new kid, I would know since I've been the new kid once before. I was young but I had changed schools. He missed his buddy Jaime, and having to go school without his support was killing Tony on the inside. Tony seems to idolize his friend and I hope to meet the infamous Jaime soon.

Right now, Tony is back home visiting Jaime for the first time since Thanksgiving. He still refers to his old city as his home and I don't argue against him; I don't consider this foster house to be my home. A home is something that you create with your family. These people, these strangers are not my family. They never will be. My whole family is buried six feet under or burnt to ashes.

I pushed the sheets off of me that Christmas morning and stretched my arms out in front of me. I had passed out around midnight last night, earlier than any other night of my high school life. I guess it's because I had pulled an all nighter two days before with Tony on Skype. He had left the day before the weekend began, leaving me alone at lunch that day. He apologized numerous times but it wasn't his fault; he'd had these plans before he even moved out here. Needless to say, that day at lunch kind of sucked.

I trudged into the bathroom, lazily brushing my teeth and hair. I had no idea what time it was, but I figured I wouldn't fall back asleep easily so I just remained awake. Once I was finished in the bathroom, I walked back into my bedroom, flopping back onto my bed. I grabbed my phone, pulling the charger cord from it, watching it fall to the ground. I shrugged it off and checked my messages.

One new text. The text was nothing special, just a simple Merry Christmas! from Tony. I couldn't help but get butterflies in my stomach. Tony was appealing to me, as a friend and possibly as something more. He makes me laugh, and smile, something most people couldn't make me do genuinely anymore. Getting texts from him makes my insides grind together in delight, despite that sounding grotesque. I texted him back the same thing and put my phone down. I hadn't felt this way in a long time. It felt kind of good.

"Mayella!" My foster mother called up the stairs for me, flickering the light on and off, as if that would wake me up if I were asleep, "Wake up and come downstairs! Santa's brought presents!" I heard her footsteps float away from the stairs and I sat up once again with a groan. I hated spending "family time" with these people. They weren't my family. We're just a bunch of messed up kids whose real parents couldn't take care of us or were dead.

I descended down the stairs slowly, dreading going into the living room to see the kids open presents from "Santa". I had a desire to ruin it for them but I remember being filled with joy when "Santa" brought me presents when I was their age. No child deserves to have that secret ruined for them; they deserve to find it out on their own. They'll find out someday, but not by my doing.

I sat down in a beat up arm chair in the living room, letting my foster mother hand me a mug of hot chocolate. It was a cool morning in San Diego, typical for this time of year. It doesn't snow here; if it has I was unaware. I don't know the history of my city, or my own state even. I could really care less. It is morning time, I could really care less about anything.

"Mayella, this one's for you," the seven year old handed me a present. It was a rectangular box, long in length, short in width. I thanked the girl, her name is Katie, and looked for a name on the wrapping paper. I assumed my foster parents had marked it with "Santa" but to my surprise it said To the lovely Mayella, from Tony. I was pleasantly surprised to find out that it was from Tony and eagerly ripped through the wrapping paper.

I scoffed and laughed at the same time when the wrapping paper was off. The present was wrapping in a cardboard box, securely taped. I looked up to see my foster father regarding me carefully. "I'll go grab a knife." He huffed and stood from the love seat, disappearing into the kitchen. I leaned back in the arm chair, weighing the box in my hands. It was pretty light, lighter than anything that should have come in a box like this.

My foster father came back with a knife, gently handing it to me. There was a heaviness behind his eyes that I could never decode, but he was always kind. I nodded my thanks before busting opening the box. I dragged the knife through the tape, being careful not to knick myself in the process. Once there was no more tape to cut through, I placed the knife gently on the ground. I grabbed the flaps of the box and jerked them open, staring inside. A grin crept upon my face.

A skateboard lay inside of the box. Tony had been trying to teach me how to ride one, but it was hard when he only had one skateboard. I felt honored that he had bought me such a huge gift and a little guilty that I had not bought him anything in return. In my defense, I had been unaware that he was even buying me a gift; let alone something that cost nearly one hundred bucks.

"That was nice of him," my foster mother stated. I nodded and flipped it over, running my hands over the design on the back. It was a demon version of Snow White and the seven dwarves. I could feel myself smiling even wider. We had seen this deck in the Zumiez in the mall and I gushed over the design. It was beautiful and I envied the artist who had drawn it. I wish I could come up with something so beautiful and unique.

"I think I need to go call him and thank him." I whispered, standing up and tucking the board underneath my arm.

"You haven't opened all your presents yet." My foster mother frowned. She motioned toward a small pile of presents for me. I glanced at it before looking at her.

"I'll only be a few minutes, I promise." Before she could protest, I darted upstairs and into my bedroom, diving across my bed for my phone. I quickly dialed Tony's number, having memorized it a long time ago. I chewed my lip, groaning when it went straight to voicemail.

The robotic lady voice repeated Tony's number before beeping, "Tony! I just opened your present and it's amazing. Thank you so much. I... I'm really grateful. I can't believe this. I feel bad for not getting you anything. Merry Christmas again. Talk to you later." I hung up after gushing my thanks to him. I placed the board next to me on the bed, feeling giddier than I have in months.

A skateboard, I thought, still smiling. I couldn't believe it, honestly. I wondered where he had come up with the money, but I didn't ponder it for long. I really wanted to try out the board but I knew my foster parents would forbid it. It was a holiday and we had to spend "family time," much to my dismay.

Eventually, I went back downstairs without the skateboard. I sat back down in my chair, opening the rest of my presents. I received a new sketch book (I was running low on pages in my old one), a fifty dollar iTunes gift card, and a few books that I had asked for. My favorite of all my gifts was definitely the skateboard though. I loved it. I couldn't express it enough. Tony is truly amazing.