The Stolen Lycan Queen

Only 2 more weeks until I was free. 14 days until I could make my own decisions, go wherever I wanted to go, be whoever I wanted to be. Not that I had a clue where that was or what I was going to do, but it didn't matter. I could decide. I could finally be free. "Hey, sleepy head! Get up! We're going to be late!", my foster sister Sarah yelled at me from across the small room we shared. She was 8 months younger than me but definitely the more responsible of the two of us. It was the first Saturday of Winter Break and we both had shifts at Marge's Diner on 5th Street. It was a 20 minute walk and if we didn't get moving we were going to miss the beginning of the breakfast rush and Marge was already pissed at me for mouthing off to a customer last week that got a little handsy with Sarah. I was fiercely protective of her. We aren't blood sisters but she's the closest thing I have to a true family. We've shared this tiny room for the last 5 years. This is my 7th foster home and her 4th. Neither of us can imagine how we would have survived if we hadn't been placed together. We were living with an older couple, David and Lisa, who both worked a lot. They basically left us alone. It was by far the best foster home I'd ever been in and Sarah had it a lot worse than I did. I can't count the number of nights I woke up to her crying from the nightmares. I'd crawl into her bed and hold her until she went back to sleep. It's why I exploded on that sleaze ball that slid his hand up her skirt at the hostess stand. My outburst almost cost both of us our jobs. Marge was slightly understanding once we explained the details of what happened but I was on thin ice so I couldn't afford to make us late and leave her short handed for the breakfast rush. "Kayla... Move it!", Sarah yelled in my ear as she leaned over me while trying to pull the sheets off me. "Fine", I grumbled, "I'm moving". I threw the blankets off and swung my legs over the edge of the bed as Sarah jumped up, giggling. She landed gracefully and danced across the room. She grabbed her jacket off the back of our desk chair and smiled sweetly at me, "I'll see you downstairs in 5. Hurry up!" She gracefully moved towards the door and I couldn't help but smile at her back as she left the room. We couldn't be more different. Not only in looks, but in personality as well. Sarah is petite, 5'3 and with long blonde curly hair. She has incredibly fair skin and crystal blue eyes. Her hair forms perfect ringlets when it's wet and I always tease her about looking like one of those old time porcelain dolls. She has a perfect figure, tiny waist, b-cup boobs and a bubble butt that all the guys loved. She's overly optimistic and smiling all the time. Seeing us together is a total shock to most people. I'm the dark to her light. I'm tall, 5'11, with long straight hair that is a deep, intense red. I have vibrant green eyes and too many curves that make anything I wear seem too provocative. Sarah is always telling me how jealous she is of my curves, but I just feel fat, especially next to her. I have mastered my resting b***h face and have a general distrust of most people. It's why I typically play the role of protector when it comes to my sweet little sister. The guys in our town know better than to test me when it comes to her. The guy at the diner was a truck driver, just passing through. I don't like to fight but I also won't back down. I learned at an early age that it is important to stand your ground against bullies. It's the only way to survive. I shook off the groggy feeling from just waking up and grabbed some clean clothes from the closet. I threw on a pair of jeans and my t-shirt from the Diner. I rushed across the hall to the bathroom we shared with our 3 other much younger foster siblings to brush my teeth and throw my hair into a ponytail. I skipped makeup due to the time limit. I knew Sarah was probably already pacing downstairs while she waited on me. Besides, who did I have to impress in this town. Sarah always had guys hitting on her and asking her out. Most guys tended to avoid me and those that didn't got shot down really quickly. For some reason, I just had zero interest in dating. I took one last look in the mirror and grimaced. It would have to do. 2 more weeks. I headed out the bathroom door and down the stairs to face the day.