Chapter One

I sat back in my car, watching the couple who sat by the window in the diner. From my viewpoint across the street, I saw the man laugh at something the other had said. The woman in the blue coat who sat across from him grinned, sipping her drink. Her mouth began to move and he paid rapt attention to the words she said. He nodded along, as if he were in agreement with her. There was a moment when no words passed between them and both ate their food in contemplative silence, their brows drawn quizzically together. I wondered if he was thinking about the daughter he gave up seventeen years ago.
He began to speak again, gesturing wildly, almost knocking over his drink. He smiled sheepishly. As the woman began to respond, he turned his head slightly, glancing out the window. Our eyes met. For a moment, I hoped his eyes would widen in recognition and he would run out of the diner. We would meet in the middle of the street in an embrace and all onlookers would begin to clap at the happy reunion of father and daughter, just like in the movies. But that was wishful thinking. Instead, his eyes swept past me to look at the woman in front of him, not realizing that his daughter was less than twenty feet away from him.

My eyes burned with unshed tears and I blinked, turning away to stare at the steering wheel. Suddenly, the song Miserable at Best by Mayday Parade began to play softly. Startled, I reached across the passenger seat for my purse and began to rummage through it, searching for my phone. I pulled the device out of my purse and checked the number to see it was one I didn’t recognize. I frowned, answering it.

“Hello?”

“Hadley?” the caller responded. I recognized the voice as that of my foster brother, Jeremy.

“Jeremy?” I asked. “Where are you? Whose number is this?” Concern for my foster brother’s welfare began to well up inside me and I quickly turned on the ignition of my car. There was a loud rustling sound and I heard shouts in the background. “Jeremy?”

“Can you come pick me up please?” he asked, his voice strained.

“Jeremy, where are you?”

“The Hub,” he said. My concern immediately turned to panic as I realized where Jeremy was. “Hurry.”

“What are you doing in the Hub?” I half screamed into the phone. I quickly threw the car into drive and began to pull away from the curb.

“Just hurry,” he said, ignoring my question.

“Jeremy,” I began but stopped when I heard a dial tone. He had hung up. Gritting my teeth in frustration, I took one last look at the couple in the diner, trying to imprint the image of my father into my mind before I joined oncoming traffic and quickly made my way to the Hub.

There was a noticeable difference between the Hub and the rest of the town. The Hub was rundown with unkempt houses and potholed streets. The whole neighborhood emanated an aura of depression and danger. Boys dressed in sagging pants and t-shirts smoked cigarettes and other narcotic drugs while girls dressed in tight, revealing clothing sidled up against them. One boy stood on the corner of the street, dealing out money to another who handed over a small bag filled with a white substance. The Hub, I thought, as I turned around the corner, keeping my eyes peeled for Jeremy, was home to me. I had lived here for most of my life. When I was six, I had been placed in a home with a middle aged woman named Sheryl who worked as a sales clerk during the day and a prostitute at night. I stayed with her for eight years before a small run-in with the law caused me to be relocated to another family. Long story short, I knew these streets like the back of my hand.

I saw a small crowd of people gathered in a circle at the end of the street. Dread filled my stomach as I slowed to a stop and got out of the car, making my way over. I could hear grunts and whimpers mixed in with the sound of skin slapping against skin. I pushed my way through the crowd and came to a stop at the edge of the circle. There were two teenage boys, both around the ages of fifteen, who were facing off against a larger, much older boy who seemed to be about nineteen. The two boys looked disheveled, their clothes bloody and torn. The nose of one boy was gushing blood and he looked as if he were ready to collapse to the ground. The other had a black eye and a split lip, bruises spanning half his face. I recognized the bloodstained clothes he wore as that of my brother. My eyes snapped to the older boy who had a slight bruise on his jaw. It wasn’t until I saw his hand rear back to throw another punch that I broke through the circle and entered the ring.

“Stop!” I screamed just as the older boy’s fist connected with the side of Jeremy’s face. I felt the pain, even from where I stood. “Stop!” I screamed again. The older boy turned to look at me. His moment of distraction seemed to spur the other boy into action and he began to run. No one chased after him. “Jeremy,” I said in concern as I placed my hand on his shoulder, pulling him away from the older boy. I stepped protectively out in front of him, facing the older boy, silently daring him to hit me. Instead, the older boy was looking down at me, scrutinizing me. I could almost see the wheels turning over in his head. His dark eyes soon widened in recognition.

“Hadley?” he asked in a deep baritone voice, surprise coating his words.

I frowned wondering how he knew my name. I narrowed my eyes, taking him in. In my head, the image of a small, scrawny boy with dark brown, almost black hair and chocolate-colored eyes formed. Almost instantly, I realized who he was.

“Nathan?” I asked incredulously. He let out a small laugh, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Wow,” he said, looking at me up and down. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“I could say the same,” I replied. Nathan wasn’t the scrawny little boy I had left behind all those years ago. He’d filled out…a lot. His black t-shirt was stretched out by his muscles leaving little to imagination. His features were hardened, cut like ice, and a dark shade of stubble spanned across his jawline.

“Hadley.” I heard a groan behind me, making me realize why I was in the Hub in the first place.

“You know him?” Nathan asked, gesturing to Jeremy.

“Foster brother,” I said as a way of explanation.

“The kid owes me money,” Nathan said. “Two hundred and twenty seven bucks to be exact.”

I frowned, disappointment flooding through me as I realized why Jeremy would owe money in the Hub and why Nathan was pounding on him. Instead of rounding on Jeremy and chastising him for getting mixed up in this business, I nodded. “He’s just a kid,” I told Nathan who arched his brow at me as if to say that I ought to know how this works. “A stupid, idiotic kid who had no idea what he was getting himself into.” I looked back at Jeremy whose fists were clenched in barely controlled anger. “I’ll have your money for you,” I assured Nathan. “You have my word.”

I knew that in the Hub, a person’s word was their bond. Break it and they’ll break you. Nathan nodded in acknowledgment. He looked around at the people who had gathered around to watch the fight and, without a word, they began to disperse. The hierarchy in the Hub had shifted, I thought as I watched everyone scatter. Nathan was no longer a weak, scrawny boy who lived on the streets and begged for rations. Somehow between then and now, he had turned into a strong and powerful man who was clearly in charge.

“Get the kid out here,” he said, turning back to me, “before I change my mind.” I nodded, and began to usher Jeremy to my car.

“Hayden,” Jeremy said.

“Don’t say a single word,” I told him, anger coating my words. He entered the passenger seat in silence, shutting the door behind him. I turned to Nathan and sighed. He stood rooted in the same spot.

“I’ll see you soon, Hadley,” he promised. I nodded my acknowledgement and then headed around the car to the driver’s side. I quickly pulled away from the curb and glanced in my rearview mirror. Nathan continued to watch me as I drove away until he soon became a small speck in my mirror.

It wasn’t until we pulled onto Main Street that I exploded, slamming my hand against the dashboard, making Jeremy flinch. “Two hundred and twenty seven dollars?” I asked Jeremy, anger evident in my tone. “How am I supposed to get my hands on two hundred and twenty seven dollars?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jeremy grumbled.

“Do you really expect me to stay calm over this matter?” I asked incredulously. “What exactly are you using?”
“I’m not using anything.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Jeremy—”

“I’m not using anything!” he shouted. His eyes were wide and glazed with unshed tears and he was trying desperately to control the tremors that took a hold of his body. “They aren’t for me,” he said, his voice strained.

“Who are they for?” I asked quietly. He took a while to answer. His teeth dug into his bottom lip, cutting it, making it bleed. He licked the blood with his tongue.

“I needed money.”

“Jeremy, you are fifteen years old. What in the world do you need money for?” I asked, frustrated. He shook his head, choosing instead to look out the window rather than answer my question. I sighed, clenching my hands around the wheel as we drove the rest of the way home in silence. I pulled into the driveway and turned off the ignition. We sat in silence for a while.

I looked down at my lap, squeezing my eyes shut. “You’ve no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into,” I said softly, shaking my head.

“And you do?” he scoffed, undoing his seatbelt and opening the passenger side door.

“Promise me you’ll stay away from the Hub.”

He shrugged, wincing. “Whatever.” Jeremy slammed the car door closed. Hunched over with his head down, he unlocked the front door and went inside the house, leaving me alone in the car. I soon followed after him. Peter and Jennifer, my current foster parents, weren’t home. After making a pit stop in the kitchen for a can of Dr. Pepper, I made my way to my bedroom, locking the door behind me. I cracked open the can of soda and sipped it. Opening my computer, I logged onto my email account and found a letter from my case manager, Kendra.

It read:

Hadley, you only have two more weeks of probation left. DO NOT do anything to jeopardize this. You are almost eighteen. If you end up back in court, chances are you’ll be tried as an adult. Please, adhere to my warning for once. We need to talk about what your plans are after high school. Have you been working on getting a job like I advised? You only have a few months left, Hayden. You need to start now. Get back with me ASAP.

Kendra, I thought grudgingly as I read the letter, was always short and to the point. I sighed and shut off my computer, choosing instead to lie back on the bed and gaze up at the ceiling rather than think about what was waiting for me on the other side of eighteen. My thoughts drifted to Nathan. I wondered when he’d gotten mixed up in the business of dealing. Seeing him pounding on my foster brother had put things into perspective for me. The nostalgia I had felt upon entering my old neighborhood faded with the realization that everything had changed.
When I had lived in the Hub, Nathan, my best friend at the time, was nothing more than a gaunt kid who had next to nothing. He lived on the scraps given to him by others. His parents had been addicts, choosing instead to feed their desire for coke rather than investing in their child. Nathan had gone from home to home, staying most of his time with me, even though Sheryl could barely afford to feed another mouth. When I’d last seen him, Nathan had been taller and more filled out than when we’d first met, but nothing compared to what he was today. The last thing, though, that I had expected from him was to become a dealer.
I sighed and rolled over in my bed, reaching under the pillow for the picture I kept there. It was a photograph of my birth mother holding me in the hospital after I was born just hours before she had died. She was pale in the picture and her blonde hair was matted and unkempt. She emanated exhaustion which was evidenced by the bags under her eyes. Yet, there was a light in her eyes that seemed to shine through the picture, letting me know that she loved me even though she barely knew me. I traced a finger over the contours of her face.
I had her facial features, I noted for the millionth time as my eyes scanned the picture, but I had my father’s dark-brown hair and green eyes. Not for the first time, I wondered what my life would have been like if she had lived. Would she have kept me? Or would I be exactly where I was now: stuck in an unloving and unyielding government foster care system. I brought the photograph up to my mouth and planted a kiss on my mother’s face before tucking it back under the pillow. Lethargy came over me; it wasn’t long before my eyes began to flutter close and sleep overtook me.
The sound of someone pounding on my door several hours later woke me up. I groaned and rolled out of bed, popping my joints before shuffling my way to the door. When I opened it, I saw my foster father, Peter standing outside. I stiffened, wondering what he wanted.
“Dinner time,” he said, eyes roaming over my face. I frowned, looking back over my shoulder at the bedside table where my clock read seven pm. I’d been asleep for five hours.
“I fell asleep,” I said, stepping over the threshold and shutting my bedroom door behind me. I followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of my eyes. Jennifer was already there, placing the food on the table. Her hair was pulled up in a sloppy ponytail and she was dressed in sweats. She leaned back from the table and let out a sharp gust of air. Placing her hand on her swollen stomach, she threw me a small smile.

“Where’s Jeremy?” she asked as she finished arranging the plates. “I’m ready to eat.” She eased her way slowly down into her chair. At that moment, I heard the stairs creak with Jeremy’s weight. I threw a panicked glance at him as he came into view. He looked even worse than earlier. His face was a kaleidoscope of black and blue and his right eye was slightly swollen. Jennifer gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. If she had the mobility to, I knew she would have immediately run to her son. Peter, on the other hand, immediately moved to Jeremy, placing a hand on his shoulder and pulling him into the kitchen where he could better see the damage that had been done.

“What happened?” Peter asked gruffly, turning Jeremy’s face side to side, concern etched into his face.

Jeremy shrugged, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. “I got into a fight,” he said nonchalantly. All the while, his eyes pleaded with me not to speak a word. He brushed away Peter’s concern and instead went around to Jennifer’s side where he gently placed a kiss on her cheek. “Hi, mom,” he said softly. Jennifer had been Jeremy’s foster mother ever since he was seven, way before Peter came into the picture. I wondered why she’d yet to adopt him.

Jennifer sighed, placing her hand on Jeremy’s cheek. “This is your second fight this month, Jeremy,” she chastised him, leaning back into her chair.

Jeremy shrugged again and made his way to his seat. “I know.”

“I’m not even going to ask,” Jennifer continued. “At the end of dinner, I need you to hand in your cell phone and laptop.” She let out a frustrated sigh and pressed her fingers to her temple. Jeremy opened his mouth to speak, but the disappointed look Jennifer shot him had him hunching over in his seat in acquiescence.

“You’ve lost all your privileges for the next month,” Peter chimed in. “School and home, that’s it buddy.” Jeremy shrugged and picked up his fork, moving his food around on his plate without eating any of it. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” he asked. Jeremy glanced at me before moving his eyes to Jennifer, who sat with her eyes closed, hands on her stomach, face twisted with pain.

“Mom?” he asked, pushing back from his seat a little.

“No, no,” Jennifer said, opening her eyes and letting out a shallow breath. “The baby’s kicking,” she explained, shifting in her seat. I asked her if she was alright to which she replied with a nod. “I went to the doctor today,” she said. “I’m less than a month away from having this bad boy. Everything is exactly as it should be.” She smiled at Peter, happiness making her eyes shine brighter. Nevertheless, I could see the worry etched in the way her hands tentatively caressed her belly. She’d had two miscarriages in the past. The doctors had told her the chances of carrying this baby to full term were slim, yet here she was now, eight months later and ready to pop.

“So it’s a boy?” I asked.

Peter shrugged, taking a bite of his food. “We don’t know,” he said. “We opted not to find out until the baby is born.”

“Yes,” Jennifer said, nodding, “but I suspect it’s a boy. With the way he’s kicking now, he’s going to make a fine soccer player one day, just like his daddy.” She gave Peter a tender look to which he slightly colored.

The remainder of dinner consisted of baby talk. Jeremy stayed silent, glaring down at his food while Jennifer continued to talk about the new addition to the family. I could tell that Jeremy was uncomfortable with the discussion. After all, Jennifer was like a mother to him. After she had her own child, would she still want him? I caught Jeremy’s eye and rolled my eyes, silently telling him that I understood. The corner of his lip twitched before he went back to his food, finding it more fascinating than the topic at hand.

Once we had finished dinner and Jeremy and I had washed up the dirty plates, I went to my room and opened up my laptop to reply to Kendra’s message.

I typed:

I understand. I’ll get started right away.

After sending the email, I looked at the time. It was just after eight. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I flipped it open to see three missed text messages and one phone call, all from the same person. I rolled my eyes as I quickly scanned the messages and typed a quick reply. I headed over to my closet and quickly pulled out a black jacket and shrugged it on. After placing a grey beanie on my head, I quickly put on black Vans. Just as I had finished tying the laces, I heard a car honk three times from somewhere down the road. Grinning, I quickly made sure the door to my bedroom was locked. Then, I made my way over to the window and quickly shimmied down the side of the house, dropping to the grass below, my ankle smarting from the jump. I took a look at the house, making sure no one had seen me leave before I hurried down the street where a car sat idle, waiting.