Captured: Luke's Perspective

Chapter 2: The Old Client

"I just don't understand why you have to live with them?" Cole asked. "Even if I did leave," I explained. "They wouldn't support themselves." I mentioned to Cole about my parents a dozen times, but she was confused.

Because of Seth's big mouth, Cole knew that I was a foster kid, but she never told anyone about it, especially her mom. By then, I dropped the fake British accent and continued using my Brooklyn accent.

"The social worker is supposed to be here around one thirty," I said. "She wants to see if they have been taking care of me over the past few years."

"How old were you when you..." Cole started to say. Got adopted by them? "I was fourteen," I shrugged. "The social worker was getting sick and tired of me running away from bad foster homes, she said that unless I want to spend the rest of my life in juvie, I have to participate and get "connected" with them."

"Old hag," Cole muttered. I nodded in agreement. She walked over to the bed and took the paperback books. "I have to start the day," she explained. "See you around?" I nodded. She gave me a quick wave and hurried back into her window.

Looking at myself, I sighed then got up to get dressed. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and dried it with a towel. I took off my pajamas and pulled into my red plaid t-shirt, black shirt, and jeans.

After I threw on my socks and shoes, I took my dirty pile, came downstairs, and dump them into the laundry bag. Mom was putting the finishing touches of ointment on her face.

Dad was grumbling about something, checking in the fridge for some Coke. "Where's the Coke?" he grunted. "In the freezer," I answered. Dad opened the freezer side, took the bottle of Coke, then drank it in one gulp.

I walked over to the food cupboard and quietly took a banana, earning a look from Dad. "You're seriously eating that?" he snorted. "Are you drinking that, Bill?" I snorted back. Dad glared at me then sat in the living room couch.

The last thing I saw him do was turning on the television and lighting his cigar. As soon as I devoured the fruit, I tossed the peel into the garbage bin and grabbed my backpack that was leaning against the dining table.

"Oh, hey Luke." Mom began, walking out of the bathroom. In her hand was a wallet. "Can you buy some groceries?" she asked. "It's has one hundred and twenty dollars in there, you can use the money to spend it on...whatever."

She tossed the wallet and I caught it. "Where did you get the money?" I asked. "Did you steal it from a bank or something?" Mom didn't answer me. She joined my dad on the couch, watching television programs.

Right, I thought. "See you around." They didn't answer back. Without a word, I quietly left the house and closed the door behind me. I didn't bother riding my bike to school. It was good for me to stretch my legs and maybe get some oxygen in my system.

As soon as I hurried to English class, the first bell had already rang and my friend was too busy doing her bellwork.

She gave me a soft smile then returned to her work. Ms. Whitfield was reading a hardcover novel about Shakespeare. I quickly got out my things and began writing my bellwork until most of the class arrived.

They looked annoyed when they saw us. A few snickered in our direction. "Hey," a boy cried, looking at Cole. "It's Nerd Girl." I glared at him.

Much to my surprise, Cole looked up at her work and smiled. "Hey," she smiled. "You must be the i***t who took I Can't Believe It's Not Mouthwash!"

The entire class, including me, laughed at her insult. "Freak," he hissed at her. Cole pretends to pinched her nose in disgust and tried brushing the odor away.

He grimaced then say two rows away from me, most of our classmates did. Except Madison, who plopped beside me and played with my hair.

I forced a grin. "Hey Maddie," I said. She flashed me a flirtatious smile. Her fingers made patterns on my head. It was annoying. "Can you please stop?" I asked politely.

"Have you heard of the dance coming next month?" Madison asked. "What dance?" Cole asked. Madison ignored her. Sighing, I asked the same question.

"It's going to be a dance based on the Great Gatsby," Madison squealed. "There is going to be music and everything. The best part is, it is a girl's choice."

I groaned. I knew where this was going. "Do you want to go to the dance with me?" she asked. "Nope," I answered. Madison wouldn't take my rejection for an answer.

"I know that you want to go out with me, Luke." Madison pouted. Cole rolled her eyes. Madison gave her a seething look. "What do you want, Ms. Hyde?"

"You to leave my friend alone," Cole snapped. "Finders keepers," Madison hissed. "Look Sharpay," Cole replied. "You are just a pretty shallow person, who in fifty years going to be the World's Ugliest Betty."

Madison glared at Cole, who glared back. As much as the classmates wanted to see a cat fight, I broke the two up and pointed at the chalkboard. Closing her book, Ms. Whitfield gave the girls a stare then picked up her chalk.

"I hope you were all studying for your English exam," she said. "This test will count as the entire grade." The entire class groaned, except for me and Cole, who picked up her sharpened pencil and stared at the teacher.

She lifted a stack of papers on the desk and passed it out to us. "Good luck," she said. As soon as she was finished, Ms. Whitfield resumed back to her hardcover book. Everyone began writing their names on the top left hand corner of the page then started their tests.

I glanced at the test then rolled my eyes. It was multiple choice, pretty simple. After I wrote my name, I quickly began filling in the correct answers on the page. Cole did the same. Madison was squinting her test sheet and cranned her neck at my test, which I covered it with my hand.

Snarling, Madison went back to her test and tried guessing all of them. A few minutes later, Cole and I have finished the tests then given them to Ms. Whitfield. "Done already?" We both nodded.

She took the tests then made a gesture to our desks. We sat down and took out our mystery books. As time went by, more and more students laid their tests on Ms. Whitfield's desk.

Just then, the bell rang for second period. Everyone disappeared except for Cole, Ms. Whitfield, and me. Just I was about to pack my things, an old man came bursting through the door.

"What in the world is going on?" the English teacher asked. Ignoring her, he pointed his finger at us. "I need to talk to you two."