C1 01

EVA

Omar would be so proud of me.

I could literally hear his voice in my head saying; peek out of you shell once in a while, Eva. It's fun I swear.

Today I had. And to be honest, I didn't know if the outcome was either a blessing or a curse.

Mrs Lawson's happy eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, the edges of her lips tilted up.

I matched her smile.

"Abi and Zoe are the same age as you. I can't wait for you to meet them. "

Well, that made the two of us.

"I can't wait to meet them either. " I replied honestly.

Abi and Zoe were twin girls and the only children of the Lawsons. I hadn't met them in person yet, of course, but I was pretty sure I knew more about them than any stranger had the right to. Because that's what I was, a stranger, contrary to what many people might believe. Yes, on paper, I wasn't really a stranger anymore. But to them, I very well might be, seeing as they knew next to nothing about me, other than my name —which there was a huge possibility might actually be fake but let's not talk about that.

First meetings were notorious for being painful and awkward as hell. Each person didn't know what to expect of the other and whatever aspects of oneself a person showed on that day, was how the other viewed that person until proven otherwise.

For the first time in a very long time, I found myself actually worried as to how people would see me. I wanted to meet up to their expectations of me —if they had any. To be honest, wondering how they would react to a stranger living in their home, admist all their private things, was beating me up more than the thought of my adjusting was.

Thinking of having to start my life all over was killing me. Ergo...

Her eyes returned to her tab and I sighed out in relief. My smile dropped, my head lolling to the side as I resumed my task of idly watching the scenery as we passed. People going about their day, some looking happy, some quite forlorn, and others particularly hopeful as to what the day might offer.

Learning about people's lifestyles was a hobby of mine, something Omar found odd. Well, Omar found a lot of things about me odd. He simply chalked up my interest in people's lives to mine being too boring. I wouldn't say he was right. But he wasn't wrong either.

Writing was second nature to me and studying the the people around me was how I got my inspiration to write. So I guess he was right if he had been implying that if I had been interesting, I wouldn't have to study anyone but myself. But he was also wrong because everyone had their own story. My story might fill the pages of a book, but it wouldn't fill all the books in the world.

Although, in spite of all the faults Omar found with me, he accepted me. Wholly.

Omar.

Merely thinking his name brought a fresh pang of sadness to my heart. I missed him so much. From the moment I met him five years ago, it had been the both of us against everything in our own distorted little world. Until he'd gotten adopted a week ago, and I'd gone back to riding solo.

A smile crept up my face as I replayed the moment I first met him in my head.

A twelve year old me had been heading to the store room in search of water at the exact same time he'd been sneaking back in. I'd wanted to scream bloody murder, but my body had been too occupied with saving itself from what could have been an unfortunate fall, to focus on transmitting that information to my brain. We'd bumped into each other, landed on our asses on the floor, then burst out laughing at ourselves. We hadn't even bothered getting up. There, on the store room floor, in the middle of the night, we bonded. He'd seemed honest, had a great sense of humor and my eyes hadn't seemed to freak him out like I'd expected them to. I'd felt at ease with him.

Eventually, when we'd fallen silent and awkwardness had started to creep in, he'd said, "Will you be my best friend? "

I'd been so confused. Who asked someone they just met to be their best friend? It hadn't been my first time seeing him at the orphanage, but that had been the first ever conversation we had.

I'd said yes anyway and that had been the beginning of Eva and Omar.

Words couldn't express how sad I'd been when he delivered the news to me that he was getting adopted. I'd acted selfishly, mourning the loss of a friend that was still present, when I could have been celebrating with him. I cursed myself now that I thought about it because I knew if it had been the reverse, he would've been happy for me.

Before he left, he'd made me promise that I would let myself get adopted. I made the promise despite how bizarre it sounded. As if I had a say in whether I was going to get adopted or not.

It all seemed to me like a big prank when Mr. Ayo, the head of the orphanage, ordered me to pack my meagre belongings that I was getting adopted. I hadn't really had to work my magic or do anything of the like. I'd simply gone into the office, smiled at the occupants and poof, the next day, I was in an expensive car, heading to a new house where I would be living for the foreseeable future.

Mr. Ayo hadn't been able to get rid of me fastly enough. The pretentious, money-grubbing old man had been all smiles with the couple, agreeing with whatever they said and had damn near pushed me into their car and out of the orphanage. That man made my stay there a living hell and it filled me with huge relief that I could confidently say I was never seeing him again.

The car jerked as we passed over a pothole, the movement jolting me back to the present, making me aware of my surroundings. I tended to get lost in my head a lot, it was a little trick I did to escape my trash reality. Reality that was changing for the better, I hoped, thanks to the couple in front of me.

I found myself studying them. Again.

If I were to describe my new foster parents in one word, it would be understated. Merely seeing them, one would think they were common people who had nothing to their name. I'd thought so too at first, too, even though I knew better than to judge people based on their appearances, and I'd been proven wrong when I actually got to know who they were.

Mr Lawson wore a plain purple polo shirt paired with grey khakis, with a wristwatch adorning his left hand while his wife doned a straight, floor-length gown in burgundy red. Simple. Understated.

Would the twins like the same style?

Somehow I doubted that. I didn't know why. I just did.

And I was assuming again.

Sun caught the ring on Mrs Lawson's finger, drawing my attention to it and when I looked, I saw that they were actually two. Simple, beautiful, gold bands. Just like her.

I remembered a girl from my class had said she believed that every relationship between a man and a woman, was done in the order; love, marriage then sex. I hadn't called her naive like I'd wanted to, I'd simply said to each his own.

I mean, if the hiking number of pregnant teens hawking in the streets didn't tell her otherwise, then maybe I didn't live in the same world as her after all.

Mr and Mrs Lawson were definitely in love, I could tell. I knew how to get a good read on people, it was a gift. Like for instance, I could tell Mrs was a chatterbox, while her husband was more reserved. He hadn't uttered a single word since we entered the car, but I could tell he was at alert.

The car slowed to a stop as we reached traffic and I sat up, looking out the window. Nothing about where we were was familiar. At all. If the three hours drive hadn't been enough to tell me we were very, very far from the orphanage, this did.

I took in the sleek cars waiting in front and behind ours in line. The scenery alone was mind-blowing and enough for me to forget about my nagging hunger. The structures were so beautiful, the fresh green of the trees, refreshing and filling me with an odd feeling of happiness.

My wandering eyes came to a halt as I realized what I was looking at.