Chapter six: Emma

                                    

                                          
I did my best to get my brother off my mind. But the only thing that worked, truly worked, was being with Linda. 
"He showed up?" She asked, her eyes wide in surprise. 
I nodded. "He cares about us. He really came." 
"You spoke to him?" 
"Yeah, a little."
"So what happened?" 
My smile dimmed. "Louis called the police." 
"To arrest him?" 
"No, to take him back home." I said softly. 
She nodded as if she had expected nothing less. 
"But it's good, right? You know he wants to talk to you. Did he give you a number so you can keep in touch?" 
I frowned. "No." 
"But at least you know he's thinking about you." She said, choosing to remain optimistic. "He'll find a way back to you."
"How do you know?" 
She shrugged. "I know these things." She replied. "Maybe I'm psychic." 
"Maybe you're crazy." I countered. "He'll only get to see us if the Home allows him to. If Louis allows him to." 
"Are you mad at him, for sending him away?" 
"No." I sighed. "I want to be. But I'm not." 
She smiled. "Look at you trying to be tough." 
"Piss off." I replied.
She laughed, taking my hand and spinning us around in a circle until we landed in a heap on the floor, giggling. 
"Do you think your brother would understand?" She asked. 
"About what?" 
"About you." 
"What about me?" I asked. 
She sighed and leaned closer, pressing her lips against mine gently. I closed my eyes and allowed her to pull me close, she wrapped her arms around me and I felt warm and safe inside in a way I had never felt before. 
She broke away slowly. 
"About that." She whispered. 
"Oh." I replied softly. 
I thought about the way her kisses made warmth spread through my body the way hot chocolate did on a cold winter day. How she made me smile with the simplest word or look. How my stomach felt like it was doing backflips around her. 
Would he understand that? I like to think he would. But then, I always thought the best of him. It was the only thing that made it worth believing in him. I wondered how he would take it if I ever got the chance to tell him myself. Wondered what he would say. How he would act. 
Suddenly, I wanted to tell him. I wanted to look him in the eye and admit something I hadn't even truly admitted to myself yet. 
I guess a part of me, despite everything, still wanted to please him. The child in me still looked up to him and needed his approval before making my way through this world. 
Well stuff that. I thought. I don't need anybody's approval to do what I like. 
I smiled and leaned in close to Linda again, pressing my lips against hers and trying to remember the last time I had felt this kind of happiness. But slowly, I began to think that maybe I hadn't had this kind of happiness before. That maybe, this was the start of something completely new. And nothing I ever did would ever equal this same kind of joy I felt the way I did when she looked at me and smiled. 
Maybe this feeling was one of a kind. And if so, I didn't ever want to lose it. 
~*~
Max frowned and I copied her. She sighed and I copied. She snapped her head up to scowl at me and I chuckled. 
"Stop annoying me." She snapped. 
"What's got your knickers in a twist?" I muttered. 
She glared at me and I raised an eyebrow and backed off. Louis watched her, steadily, wondering whether or not to intervene or leave her to her hormones. She looked back down at her homework and sighed again. I copied. 
"Shut up!" She yelled. 
"Stop sighing so much then." 
"Leave me alone. I'm not in the mood." She shouted. 
"Emma. Leave her alone." Louis sighed from the other side of the table, giving the pair of us a glance.
I raised my hands in surrender, hiding a smile. Louis shook his head and went to stroke my sister's hair gently, trying to soothe her rough edges. 
"Hey, Maxie, it's alright." He said, softly. 
"Get off me." She yelled. 
He sighed and left her alone. He rested his head against the wall briefly and closed his eyes 
"Go and calm down." He said. "We can talk about this later." 
She stalked off and I backed away, even her long hair was swaying angrily behind her. 
Louis ran a hand through his hair. 
"Are you sure you want to adopt us?" I asked. 
He smiled. "Of course." 
"Why?" 
He chuckled. "You don't stop loving someone because they test your patience." He said, with a smile. "It doesn't work like that." 
Strange. I thought to myself. Everyone else did.
I hadn't realised I was speaking out loud until Louis sighed. 
"Not everyone has the strength to foster children." He replied. "It requires a whole different kind of patience that most people just don't have." 
"Because we're broken and they don't know how to fix us?" I asked, sarcastically. 
"Because they don't want anything less than perfect." He said, after a pause. "And perfect doesn't exist. We all carry scars of the past. People may try to pretend they aren't there, but the brave just learn to live with them." 
I scoffed and he raised an eyebrow. 
"I know you're far from perfect, Emma. We all are. But families aren't perfect. We know that better than anyone." 
I nodded, absently. 
"I want to adopt you. Not a perfect family. Not a perfect daughter or someone to fulfil the dreams I had of a family. Me and Amelié, we want to adopt you. Because we fell in love with the amazing person you are. And we saw the person you could be." 
He stroked my hair gently. 
"And I don't care how many times I have to say it until you believe me." 
"I believe you." I replied. 
The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. 
"So why do you still doubt my words every time I tell you I love you?" 
I paused and he chuckled. 
"You'll figure it out one day, my love." He said, kissing my forehead. "I just won't hold my breath while you do." 
I smiled and tried to imagine what it would be like to be adopted. To have a place to call home without worrying it would be snatched away in an instant. To have a mum and dad who I could trust, and love, and annoy. 
To have a family where I belonged. 
To have everything I had really ever wanted, something to make the past stop aching so much. 
But that was the thing with scars. They never really disappeared, you just found ways to cover them up. If you were lucky, they faded with time, but it only takes one slice to bring the pain flooding back again.