57*Rose's point of view*
I drummed my fingertips on the dirty, cracked McDonalds table, my bitten fingernails making a dull thudding sound. I glanced up and down the crowded airport terminal again, only to see a throng of unfamiliar faces. I forced myself not to people watch and stared off into space instead, my eyes drifting shut from exhaustion and lack of anything interesting to look at. My two hour USAir flight had seemed to go on forever and now I was stuck sitting here for almost an hour now, waiting for someone from Mrs. Allegheny's foster home to come find my face off a three year old picture.
They'd better not loose that picture either. I thought. It was the only picture I had of my dad at the time. My dad and I, three years ago, just before.
"Are you Rose?" I heard someone ask me from behind. I spun around. Behind me was a rugged, scruffy looking guy that looked to be a couple years older than me. He held a crumpled picture in his hand, and when I didn't respond right away, he peered closely at it then looked back up at me.
"Sure looks like you," he said
"Yeah, I'm Rose," I said monotonely.
"I'm Shawn," he said. Then, after a pause, he stuck out his hand for a shake. I took it rather limply and gave it a quick up and down, then bent to pick up my single suitcase.
"Where we headed?" I asked as he nonchalantly took the suitcase from my hand.
He jerked his head toward the corridor to his right and turned around. I followed him, struggling to keep up considering his legs were about twice the size of mine.
As we walked, I studied the back of him. He was wearing low slung Levi's, a white T-shirt, and dirty black Vans. His hair was dark drown and hung down to tickle the tops of his ears. He walked comfortably, my suitcase swinging back and forth in his easygoing hand, like he wouldn't have cared what all the people around him would have thought if he'd tripped and fallen on his face.
We reached the door to the outside and he stepped up to open it for me.
"Thank you," I said while passing through. He nodded to me. He wasn't much of a talker. I wasn't either.
When we reached Shawn's car, I discovered another girl already sitting in the backseat. She looked to be about my ago and had a huge smile plastered on her face. The most noticeable thing about her was the mop of unruly, dirty-blonde corkscrew curls framing her heart shaped face. Green eyes shone through long, dark lashes and cute dimples appeared in her cheeks, accessorizing her smile that seemed to be permanent.
A person could hurt themselves smiling all the time like that, I thought sarcastically. As much as I wanted to say it to her, I didn't. I had the correct suspicion that I would be living with this girl for a while and I didn't want to say anything to make that perfect smile tarnish.
I opened the door and ducked into the navy Volkswagen as Shawn tossed my suitcase into the trunk.
*Lily's point of view*
"Hi, I'm Lily," I said cheerfully. I could tell this girl needed a bit of cheer. She looked so lonely. She wasn't amused by my efforts, however.
"I'm Rose," she replied dully. She shoved her long, straight black hair away from her face and gave me a sad attempt at a smile.
"I hear we'll be living together for a while," I said, trying to make conversation.
"Yeah, I guess so," she said. Her tone suggested that she was talking to a seven year old. She turned away from me to stare out the window. Shawn got into the car and started it up. The engine was loud, as before, but Shawn and I had still talked on the drive from the bus station to the airport. Now it was as if Rose had brought this dark silence with her when she stepped into the car. She was just so quiet and dark. She had tan skin and a complexion most girls would kill for. She wore dark blue jeans and a dark green T-shirt. Her large silver hoop earrings and several bangle bracelets made her seem like a gypsy to me. She was extremely skinny, almost as if she suffered from an eating disorder, and she looked very small and helpless huddled next to the door, staring wistfully out the window.
I resorted to staring out the window as well, seeing as there was nothing better to do at the time. I never know what to do with myself when there's no one to talk to. I fidgeted a little, slipping my rings between my fingers and wiggling my toes inside my sneakers. I stared at the side of Shawn's head as he softly sung along with the music that was floating out of the speakers and wondered what he was thinking.
Finally, we arrived at the house. It was at the end of an extremely long street lined with cookie cutter houses. I could tell it was one of those corporate neighborhoods where one lawyer moves out only to be replaced with another.
The house sat like a castle at the end of the street, run down looking compared to the rest, but much homier. It had a mailbox that resembled a pink flamingo and stuck out like a sore thumb against the backdrop of gray. The house looked like it hadn't been painted in about a hundred years and the grass was gray in front. Everything looked old, except for the flower beds, which were overflowing with life. A large plume of smoke was rising up from behind the house.
"That's just the grill," Shawn commented about the smoke. "I bet Joel's at it again."