Page 7 of Pretend for Me

Matthew peered into Cassie’s shared room, not knowing what to do. He just knew he wanted to be near the weird, happy girl.

Helen had decorated the small bedroom as crappily and basically as possible. The walls were bare apart from a black and white generic framed photograph next to the one window in the room. There were bunk beds made of cheap cherry-colored plywood. The comforters on the beds were pale pink.

The only other pop of color came from Cassie’s yellow blanket, embossed with her name in cursive—a present from her Uncle Maverick for her last birthday.

“Matthew. Oh, Matthew.” Cassie had a flare for the dramatics. She pulled his hand, and Matthew jolted backward, never one for being touched. “Look at my favorite book. It’s the Velvetta Rabbit.”

The bookThe Velveteen Rabbithad become Cassie’s favorite story. It was also one of the few personal items she was allowed to take to her new home.

Matthew took the book when she offered it to him and looked at it front and back. He smiled because she smiled. Neither one could read it, apart from Cassie memorizing a few lines here and there, but it gave her comfort, and she would need all the comfort she could get.

“Nice,” Matthew said while scratching the scars on his arms that were covered by his long sleeves.

Cassie wasn’t accustomedto such a strict and disciplined household. Her parents were free spirits and certainly didn’t have a four-year-old cleaning the bathroom tiles with a toothbrush like she was ordered as soon as she’d unpacked her small bag.

The cleaning was not the only thing Cassie wasn’t used to. It turned out the Davises had several other foster children besides Matthew.

Flynn was the oldest at eight, and Lana and Logan, the fraternal twins, were seven. Flynn had shaggy, long brown hair and was gangly. He was in anger management due to his previous traumas. Lana was a blond-haired, blue-eyed cherub-looking child, except her looks were deceiving. Lana was conniving and cunning. Logan was a heavy-set blond-haired boy with blue eyes. He was also very quiet and very rarely spoke, except to his sister.

Not only was the house suddenly crowded and noisy, but Mrs. Davis liked to yell at more than just the children. At dinner, she and her husband, a portly man with greasy blond hair, bickered nonstop. She called him foul names and glared at him. He seemed unfazed but met her venom with some of his own.

The volume of their arguing grew louder, and Matthew covered his green eyes with one hand and pulled at his already untamable hair. Cassie watched the scene, wide-eyed and baffled. She had never heard those words before.

The Davises left the dinner table and holed up inside their bedroom where they went back and forth screaming at one another. The children had scrambled up the stairs right after them and lined up outside the door, eavesdropping. Cassie was horrified; she had never heard people screaming with such force before. While her father had been stern with Cassie throughout the years, saying not to shove peas in her nose or climb the kitchen cabinets, this type of behavior was foreign to her. Cassie was terrified and looking at Matthew made her feel uneasy. He had his hands over his ears at this point. Cassie mimicked his action, figuring it was safe ifhewas doing it.

Eventually, Helen came out of the bedroom, and everyone hurried away from the door. Unfortunately, Cassie was unaware of the protocol and got stuck outside the bedroom, despite Matthew’s failed attempt at pulling her away. Cassie gasped at Helen’s change in appearance; her face had marks and her arm was bleeding from scratches up and down. Helen didn’t pause to comfort Cassie, obviously shocked at seeing and hearing this type of display for the first time in her life. Cassie cried, feeling sad and lonely. She eventually was summoned to eat dinner.

While Cassie wiped her eyes, attempting to stop the tears, Helen and the other children ate their spaghetti and meatballs. Thankfully a chair was open next to Matthew’s so Cassie slid in beside him.

“Let’s go around the table and talk about our days. Lana, why don’t you start?” Mrs. Davis attempted to keep her voice even.

The girl’s eyes narrowed. “It was fine.”

“Just fine, Lana? Anything interesting happen in school today?” Helen got up from her chair and made her way over to the bar cart, pouring herself a glass of vodka. “Go on,” she urged as Lana pursed her lips.

Helen skipped over Lana. “Logan?” Helen pleaded with the soft-spoken boy.

“Good day.” He passed her a piece of paper that he was hiding in his hoodie.

“101 on a science quiz. Super!”

Flynn didn’t even wait for Helen to call on him. “My day was great. First, Alexander Fulton taught the boy’s locker room what going to third base was?—”

A cracking sound rang out in the room as Helen slapped Flynn on the head and muttered, “Knock it off.”

It was Matthew’s turn next. He played with his hands and looked down. “I cleaned everything you asked.” He gave a small smile and peered over at Cassie who was still teary-eyed. The more she looked at Helen’s bruised face, the more unsettled she became.

Helen turned to Cassie, but Cassie didn’t understand what she was supposed to say. Nobody addressed her specifically, and she was too distracted by the craziness.

Helen’s expectant stare made her uncomfortable, so she moved as close as possible to the wild-haired little boy.

The chair screeched and it jolted back in the direction Cassie had moved it from as Cassie got dragged away from Matthew.

“Don’t move the chair, you little brat! Eat your food. This entire mess is all your fault anyway.”

Cassie looked at Helen, puzzled. Then she crossed her arms defiantly and blew a raspberry. “I don’t want p’sghatti. I want to go home! I want my mommy. And my dad and Uncle Maverick!” Cassie was now sobbing uncontrollably.

“Eat, you little …!” Helen screamed before continuing, moving her head to look the terrified little girl in the eye.

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