Page 1 of Lost Boy
CHAPTERONE
FALLON
The air vent rattles loudly while I sit in an uncomfortable plastic folding chair outside my new social worker’s office, staring blankly at the ceiling, waiting for whatever happens next.
I wasn’t listening.
I don’t evencare.
I can guarantee I’ve lived with worse. Mom never knew how to pick nice guys. Not since Dad died. Her drastic decline was startling enough for twelve-year-old me to feel partly responsible. I guess I wasn’t enough to make her happy. Not only did I lose my father—my hero—I lost Mom too. To drugs, alcohol, and her less-than-stellar taste in men. Anything she could find to forget the pain. And I’m starting to understand the need to block it all out and shut down. Because fuck my feelings. I’m not sure if they’re even there anymore—
“Fallon.”
Torn from my negative thoughts and the overly exciting ceiling, I glance down and make eye contact with my Uncle Joel. I haven’t seen him in three years.
Not that he didn’t try.
I only have a decent hoodie on right now because of the Christmas money he sent me. Money healwayssent me. Every birthday. Every major holiday. And every summer before school starts. Without fail. He’s not a bad uncle; I just ignore his texts half the time and all his phone calls.
What can I say, I’m a shitty nephew.
Lost and broken. I’m just not interested in this world. Nothing and no one appeals to me.
His brows furrow, creasing the skin in between, when he takes in the nasty bruise blooming around my eye. Social Services placed me in a group home after Mom got arrested, and well, they didn’t like the silent kid with half a head of hot pink hair too much.
“It’s fine,” I say quietly, dodging his touch and avoiding the outstretched hand reaching toward me. We haven’t even talked since I texted athank youfor my Christmas present. He doesn’t need to touch me.
“What happened?”
“Nothing,” I mumble, voice rough with disuse. He also doesn’t need to know all of my business.
Uncle Joel turns his concerned eyes to Ms. Gail as if she’ll be the one to supply him with any information. She takes a deep breath before heaving out a loud sigh, like being my social worker for all of twelve hours has been such an inconvenience to her and caused undue stress and headache.
Can’t blame her, I guess. It probably has.
“This young man won’t talk to anyone. He won’t tell us what happened or who hit him. His careless indifference is concerning.” Ms. Gail purses her lips at me, creating even more tiny lines around her mouth that her bright red lipstick seeps into.
Like I just said, it was nothing. They won’t listen or care, so what’s the point in trying again?
I don’t answer.
She huffs this time, crossing her arms somewhat aggressively before speaking about me as if I’m not sitting in the hallway, like a criminal waiting to be booked, instead of a kid with nowhere to go.
“His mother was arrested for drugs and—”
“Yes. I know. Thank you,” Uncle Joel says in a clipped tone, cutting her off firmly yet not unkindly.
I’m not even sure what else she got locked up for. It could be any number of things, really. I’m not up for guessing.
Ms. Gail’s impatient eyes dart to me, brimming with disappointment and annoyance.
Don’t care.
Once she’s had her fill, she turns her back to me, addressing my uncle again like I’m not right behind her.
As if I’m something irrelevant. Inconvenient. And possibly even incapacitated.
I’m not.
