Lilly

Beginning of 9th Grade - Lakeside High School

Lilly prepared for her first day of high school with enthusiasm, but not for the reasons most kids would. Though her normal clothing choices made her look like a gang slut, today she was going all out. By the time she was done preparing, she knew she resembled the prostitute everyone thought she was, and she smiled.

When she got to school, she walked through the senior hall of the high school, determination written on her face. Feeling like some kind of secret agent, or something, she felt every eye watching her. She only needed to avoid being stopped by the teachers a little longer.

“Layton,” she called out, when he finally came into view. Seeing him, she was close to making this happen, and she was getting excited.

Hearing his name, the object of her call turned. She watched the smile stretch across his face when he saw who was calling him, in spite of the scowl she was still wearing. She had never before addressed him, in any way, so she figured this was progress to his tiny little mind. She’d counted on that. As for Lilly’s scowl, it wasn’t an unusual expression for her, and didn’t seem to evoke any concern from him.

“You finally ready for my lovin, sweet thing?” he said loudly, full of himself, and eyeing her up and down. He was one of the star football players, and a senior. She was only a freshman. Lilly had overheard other girls say she should consider herself lucky, which only pissed her off more.

She smiled as she sauntered up to him. Ender’s Game had truly and thoroughly inspired her. If this came anywhere near working, Layton Kirk was going to learn all about it.

“Ah, baby, I’m glad you’re finally coming to your senses. You ain’t gettin nothin better than me,” he said, and she envisioned him singing that same line, over and over. She wondered how the crap wasn’t spewing out of his ears, he was so full of himself.

“Bless your sweet little heart, sugarpie,” she began, putting on a fake docile smile, and letting her southern accent become even more pronounced than it normally was. Every girl nearby that hadn’t been paying attention suddenly was, as were a few boys. They knew that reply wasn’t a good omen, and began watching, wanting to know what was about to go down. With her added inflectives, all hell was about to break loose on the poor fool. All good southern girls well knew that particular expression, and the tone with which it was delivered, as did most southern boys.

“Layton, what did I tell you the last time you said I was yours, and you attempted to, um, make out with me?” she asked, as she sidled up to him, and rubbed a finger along his jaw, before setting her hands firmly on his hips.

Layton allowed her close, putting his hand on her ass, as though he owned her. As much as she cringed at the contact, she allowed it, since it gave her the freedom to properly position herself.

“I think it was too much for you, and all, considering who you were with, and you decided to wait, probably to make sure you weren’t dreaming,” he said, the smugness further stoking her anger.

The fake smile melted off her face, and for the first time, he seemed to realize she wasn’t there to give him what he wanted. It was too late for him, though. She was where she’d hoped to be, her right leg slightly between his, her hands placed firmly on his hips. His legs were even parted, just enough.

Now, her short, stretchy skirt came to meet its primary purpose, which was to give her legs freedom of movement. Of course, it also added to the slut factor she carried with her, which she’d counted on to get close to her goal.

“Let me refresh your woefully feeble memory, you imbecilic buffoon,” she said, knowing he was too dumb to understand the big words she’d just used. Layton Kirk, being a senior football player, was taller than the average kid. Lilly Pimlott was a bit shorter than average, even for a freshman. His height, and her lack of it, gave her the perfect placement to get every ounce of her strength behind her upward thrust. Lifting her knee, she felt that soft, pillowy center, where she made contact. He fell, emitting an eerie moan.

“I think the exact answer I gave you was something like, ‘leave me the hell alone, before I cut your balls off and feed them to you’,” she quoted herself, making sure she was heard by everyone, and injecting no small amount of sass in her delivery.

“Apparently, you’ve bashed your head too many times to understand when a girl isn’t interested in you, so here’s another way of saying it that might get through that thick neanderthal skull of yours, sugarpie,” she said, and again brought forth every ounce of her strength as she launched her foot like a punter. It connected with his jaw, making a very audible crack. Blood flew out of his mouth, as his head spun around, followed by the rest of him.

“By the way, don’t ever put your slimy hands on me again, you sick piece of shit!” she said, and making a very unladylike noise, brought forth a large wad of snot, dropping it on his face.

As if a switch had been flipped, there was an immediate eruption of noise, kids shouting the word, ‘fight’. Of course, there was no fight. She was done, and seeing Layton on the floor, so was he.

Not sure how she did it, she managed to slip her way through the crowd, then headed toward the front office, limping the entire way. She’d hurt her foot and ankle with that kick. She’d expected someone to stop her, probably a teacher, or just as likely, his friends. In truth, she really hadn’t expected to succeed with what she’d just done.

“How can I help you?” the secretary asked, as she walked in.

“I came to turn myself in,” she said.

“For what?” the woman asked, confused.

“I just kicked Layton Kirk in the jaw, and I think I might’ve broken it,” she replied. “Oh, I might have also kneed him in the balls, too...really hard,” she added, before the woman had been able to respond. While the secretary was still floundering at Lilly’s unorthodox confession, there was a commotion in the hall, and several teachers came running in.

“There she is!” one of them said, pointing. It was as if they were trying to catch her, despite her having turned herself in. She almost laughed at them.

It took the teachers, the secretary and Mr. Zayne, a little while to get their act together. Lilly just sat in one of the chairs, awaiting her fate. Her indifference, and slight smile, seemed to unnerve the teachers and the assistant principal.

Every teacher in the school knew who she was, thanks to the reputation that followed her everywhere. Turning herself in and admitting her guilt was not in their understanding of what they knew, since there was documented history of her denying every charge laid against her.

“How is Layton?” Mr. Zayne asked.

“Paramedics are on the way,” one of the teachers said.

“What exactly happened?” another teacher asked. Lilly knew they were trying to understand how little Priscilla Pimlott could’ve taken down Layton Kirk.

“Mrs. Stiles will be here shortly, then we’ll figure out what happened,” Mr. Zayne said.

“I’m here, Mr. Zayne,” she informed him. “You, me and the student that did this. In my office, now,” she commanded. “Everyone else, back to your classes.”

Mr. Zayne led Lilly into the principal’s office. She had hoped some other teachers would be there, but she was left to face the principal and her assistant goon, all alone. She really thought she’d get the crap beat out of her, probably before she came close to succeeding. So having to face the executioners by herself wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been.

“What’s your name,” the principal asked, as soon as they were all seated. She was eyeing Lilly up and down, with an expression Lilly couldn’t read. Lilly was a little surprised, discovering the principal was Mrs. Stiles, from her first elementary school.

“Priscilla Pimlott,” Lilly replied, putting that aside.

“Lilly?” Mrs. Stiles asked, looking at her more closely, not able to hide her surprise.

“No one calls me that anymore,” she replied.

“Why not?” Mrs. Stiles asked.

“I only let people that I care about call me that,” she said, her voice getting a little sassy.

“I assume there aren’t many you allow to call you Lilly, based on that reply,” she said.

“Nope,” Lilly said

“I see,” Mrs. Stiles acknowledged. “As hard as this is to imagine, I understand you beat up Layton Kirk,” she said, as she surveyed Lilly with an odd tilt to her head. Lilly was still amazed at how well that had actually gone.

“Yep,” Lilly freely admitted, unable to contain her smile.

“Why?” she asked, ignoring the smile.

“Because I told him no and his tiny brain couldn’t understand the definition of the word,” she said.

“So you kick him in the jaw, after he’s on the floor, possibly breaking it?” Mrs. Stiles said, but it was spoken like a question.

“It’s not my fault he’s too stupid to understand any other way,” Lilly said, only a hint of sarcasm in her response.

“Mrs. Sanchez,” Mrs. Stiles called out.

“Yes, Mrs. Stiles?” the secretary asked, only a moment later.

“Please get me Priscilla Pimlott’s file,” she said.

They just sat in silence until Mrs. Sanchez returned a few minutes later with the requested file. Mrs. Stiles then began perusing it, and took her time.

When she looked back at Lilly, she said, “It seems that trouble follows you these days, yet I remember a little girl that was very kind and wouldn’t hurt anyone. What happened?”

“Life,” Lilly said.

“Life can be hard on many people, but that doesn’t excuse what you did. What is it that’s made you so...vicious,” she asked.

She looked at Mrs. Stiles, staring directly in her eyes. She then did something very unlike her, and gave the full answer, in all its glory, “Let’s see, I watched as my mother got strung out on heroin, and I had to start stealing from her and my friends, just to get food and once in a while, clothes. Somehow, I managed to get her to clean up for a little while, but like everything else in my life, nothing good lasts very long. So, when she started shooting up again, she od’d, and with her dead and buried, into foster care I went,” she said, shocking both of them with her candor.

“In my first home, my roommate Sylvie decided I should be a part of the Fangs, since she loved them so much and thought I should share the love, but just like that buffoon out there, they don’t understand no, either. They think they own me, but I don’t want to join their stupid little club, so they started spreading rumors about me, which everyone believes, including you,” she said, not holding her punches.

“The way you dress doesn’t help,” Mr. Zayne said, and flinched at the look of hate Lilly flashed him.

“Did I mention that I had to steal to buy food and clothes? Well, that hasn’t changed,” she replied. She then added, with a rather large smile, “And today I needed to make sure everyone believed the rumor, especially that neanderthal jock.” She then paused as she looked at Mr. Zayne.

“Now that I’ve addressed your oh so astute assessment, are there any other brilliant observations you’d like to bring up?” she then asked, waited a moment, then said, “No? May I continue, then?”

Maybe they were caught off guard, and didn’t know what to say. When neither adult replied, she did what she’d asked. “I’ve been in 10 homes, and I’m on my sixth caseworker,” she said.

“You’ve been in 10 homes in only a little over three years?” Mrs. Stiles exclaimed.

“Yeah, along with rehab seven times, I think, and it’s been three and a half years. I’m averaging a new home every four months, and rehab about every six months. This year might set a record for my longest placement, and longest time out of rehab. Oh, I almost forgot, I’m almost averaging a new caseworker every six months, as well,” Lilly said.

After playing up the ‘thinking’ look for a moment, she continued, “Let’s see, I’ve had one really good home, which was my second, but they left me when things actually started looking good for me. My first foster family ignored me, other than Sylvie, and I wish she would’ve ignored me. My current home ignores me, which I’m perfectly fine with, since they’re all losers anyway. Most of the rest of them abused me in some way, but I learned to put a stop to that, mostly, so I don’t get abused as much anymore,” she said, then paused.

After a moment, again making a show of thinking, she put on an excited face, like a young kid about to tell their parents the greatest thing in the world. “Oh my gosh, my third home was a real treat. I gotta tell you about that one,” she said, smiling broadly, excited, even bouncing in her chair like a little girl.

“They tried to marry me to their oldest son, and brainwash me into their crazy cult, not to mention the wonderful abuse they piled on me, and yes, I got the full meal deal. It was sexual and physical. They’d beat me all the time, and then threw me in a little closet for days at a time, and fed me dog food,” she said, as if it was a wonderful thing, like maybe going to an amusement park.

Returning to a look of thinking, even putting her hand on her chin and looking up at the ceiling, she finally looked back at Mrs. Stiles and said, “I think that about covers it, unless you want all of the really fine details. Is there anything else you want to know about my past and why I am who I am,” she asked.

Mrs. Stiles only shook her head. “Lilly, give me a good reason why you did what you did?” she asked, deciding to move past Lilly’s history.

“I already told you, Mrs. Stiles,” she replied, sounding on the edge of annoyed to be asked the same question again, and no longer able to keep the annoyed look from her face.

“Respond with respect,” Mr. Zayne ordered.

Lilly’s piercing gaze turned on him, unnerving him more than a little, and her reply this time was a little heated, but not exceptionally so. “Or what, you’ll suspend me? You know, when someone commits murder, they don’t really give a shit about the silly weapons violation they’ll be charged with, which makes gun control the stupidest idea in the world, by the way,” she stated. “And I haven’t really been that disrespectful. Annoyed, sure, disrespectful, not really, but I can be, if you really want me to,” she then said, just barely holding herself back from adding some very colorful word choices. She stared at Mr. Zayne, challenge in her eyes.

“Let’s bring this back down, please,” Mrs. Stiles ordered them both.

“Lilly, you do realize that you could be charged with felony assault for what you did, don’t you?” Mrs. Stiles informed her. She hadn’t thought of that, and remembering what that judge had told her a few years ago, when her first case worker accused her of dealing drugs, she was frightened. Even though she hadn’t done anything wrong then, that judge made it perfectly clear that if she did, he’d make sure she paid the full price. He was the only adult that had ever truly scared her, and still did.

“Seeing your expression, it’s clear you hadn’t. You should always consider the full ramifications for your actions, before you commit to them,” she continued, and then sat looking at Lilly, very thoughtfully.

“It’s obvious you planned this, and expected to be caught, and probably sent back to one of those group homes,” Mrs. Stiles noted, and again paused. “Although you do have a habit of getting into trouble, you’ve actually managed to keep your grades up in spite of it all. So, we’re going to try in school suspension, and see if that’ll be sufficient punishment. I’ll also refrain from reporting this to your caseworker, and maybe keep you out of that group home for a change, but I require exemplary behavior from you for the remainder of the year. Can you accept that, Lilly?” she asked.

“I’ll try,” Lilly replied, then lowered her head and whispered, “Thank you.”

“It’s not a promise, but at least you’re honest with it, and I’ll accept that. For two weeks, you’ll go to Mr. Gradion in room 227 for ISS. Your regular teachers will send your assignments to him. If you need any assistance keeping up, please let us know,” Mrs. Stiles said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Lilly replied, the first openly respectful response she’d given. However, she then looked back up at Mrs. Stiles. “May I go now?” she asked, and there was a hint of sass back in her tone.

“Yes, you may go,” she said, a hint of a sigh in her response. After Lilly had left, she realized she’d completely forgotten to address her attire, which was definitely not up to dress code. The girl really did look like a prostitute, if a very young one.

Once Lilly had left, Mr. Zayne all but shouted, “Why did you let her off with such light punishment? She should be expelled, probably charged with assault. At the very least, she should be sent to alternative school,” he stated.

“Maybe she should, and maybe I’m making a mistake, but I know her, or knew her. She’s had a very hard life, and I’m hoping that if someone shows real concern for her, maybe she’ll get her act together. Peter, her grades are outstanding, regardless of the trouble she’s been in,” and again paused, a device she used to get people to think about what she’d told them. Then continuing, she said, “To counter your rebuke of her, she really wasn’t that disrespectful, although she definitely came perilously close,” she said, and began thinking.

Changing the subject, he asked, “What are you going to do when his mother comes, and I’m sure she will?”

“I’ll inform her of how her son appears to have sexually harassed, and possibly sexually assaulted, a much younger girl,” she said. At his look of confusion, she explained, “I already knew what drove her. There’s plenty of talk about it, if you listen to what’s going on. He’s been harassing her into going out with him since before she completed eighth grade, and according to the principal at Henderson Mill, she really has been trying to avoid him, and tell him no when confronted. Apparently the kids there have been talking about it, too. They think she’s absolutely crazy to be turning him down. He seems, or seemed, I guess, to think she was an easy score, or whatever they say these days. As she said, he’s too stupid to take no for an answer, and I guess his groping her was finally too much. Yes, he did grope her, and that’s pretty well corroborated. To help keep his mother silent, there’s actually a number of girls he’s harassed in that manner. She’s just the first he was that open with, and the first to stand up to him.”

“Odds are against that sticking, considering her reputation, and the fact that they’re both minors,” he told her.

“Yeah, I know about that too, unfortunately,” she admitted. “But I don’t need it to truly stick. All I need is for his mother to be scared enough of what it could do to her son’s football scholarship chances to pursue it. Not to mention, he’s done this before, but she’s the first to ever stand up to him, and he’d be charged as an adult, most likely, whereas she probably wouldn’t,” she said.

“So, without having attended even her first class in high school, she’s in ISS,” he noted.

“Yeah, she doesn’t seem to waste time getting into trouble. From what’s in her file, she’s started the school year off in rehab every year since going into the foster system. This might be the first year that’s not the case,” she said.

“Which is why you made that decision?” he kind of asked.

“Partially. However, I really want to see if this might give her a small spark with which she can claw her way out of the dirt,” she said.

“What you did might keep her out of jail, for now, but she probably won’t even realize what you’ve done for her,” he said, then stood up and left, before she could respond.

Mrs. Stiles sat staring at the door for quite a while, thinking about the little girl she’d known only a few short years ago. She’d been such a sweet little girl, respectful in every way, and unable to hurt anyone. The girl that just left was a much different person.

Lilly had never been very talkative, not since her mother died, and was possibly even less approachable than she was talkative. Yet, the principal felt something deep within toward the girl, a hope that there was a chance she could succeed, in spite of the trials she’d suffered.

Of course, seeing the girl, looking like she was ready to pick up her latest trick didn’t instill a lot of confidence. The tales about her didn’t help, either.

“Got a call from the school, saying you’re in ISS. What’d you do this time?” her foster mother asked, when Lilly got home that afternoon.

“Nothin you want to know about,” she replied, an automatic response, coming from the last few years of growing apathy.

“Yeah, just make sure it stays nothin, you ungrateful little tramp,” the fat woman said, as Lilly grabbed an apple and walked toward her room, not that it was really her room. She shared it with two other girls. Although she knew one of their names, she didn’t know the other. She’d stopped trying to know the people she lived with. It was pointless, since she’d move before too long.

“Yeah, you’d know about being a tramp, wouldn’t you?” Lilly remarked, under her breath.

“What’d you say?” the woman screamed at her.

“Nothin’ you want to know,” Lilly said, repeating her previous reply, almost smiling as she did. She left before the woman could say anything else, or throw anything at her.

“Heard you beat up a boy today,” Sierra remarked as she plopped on her small bed, pulling out her yet to be assigned trig homework. Sierra was the one of the foster kids she could identify. The girl was eyeing Lilly, one of her eyebrows lifted and a knowing expression on her face

“What does it matter to you?” Lilly said, looking up at the girl.

“Nothing, other than he’s the star football player, and his parents will probably be very mad, not to mention the rest of the school, since it’ll hurt the football team. They might even get the police to come arrest you,” she said.

“Let ’em,” she replied, indifference in her tone, although she was actually very worried about that. She really was scared of going to jail, possibly real jail, rather than juvenile detention.

“Why didn’t you just screw him, like you do every other guy?” Sierra asked.

“Shut up, asshole. Who asked you, anyway?” Lilly said.

“You really are a bitch!” Sierra said.

“Go to hell!” Lilly replied, and turned back to her trig book, putting her earbuds in her ears in an attempt to tune out the world. It took her a few minutes to get the really old iPod to start working. She’d gotten it from her mother before everything went to hell for her, one of the last real gifts her mother had given her.

“Priscilla,” Lilly heard screamed at her, making it through the music. She was listening to Samen Voor Altijd, a Dutch song she’d recently downloaded on the family’s wifi, which they had no clue about. She had absolutely fallen in love with the sound of it after hearing it on the Voice Kids. Having found a translation of the lyrics, the innocence of it had absolutely enthralled her, that innocence something she longed for.

Like most of the music she listened to, she didn’t like having it interrupted, as was happening. Looking up, she saw that the interloper, her foster mother, the fat woman with the really bad attitude, was the source. In all fairness, Lilly knew she didn’t help matters with her own bad attitude.

“Yes, ma’am,” Lilly replied, being polite, probably for the first time since she’d been there. Her previous thoughts had obviously impacted her outward expression.

“Your caseworker’s here for your monthly check in,” she said, looking at Lilly with real concern.

“Thank you,” Lilly said, and began putting her schoolwork away. She then wrapped her earbuds around the iPod, stuffed it in her pocket and went to the table in the kitchen, where she knew the caseworker would be waiting. When she got there, no one was at the table, though.

“Priscilla?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

Turning, Lilly saw a woman with medium length auburn hair staring at her. Like everyone else that day, the woman was looking her up and down. Lilly knew she should’ve changed when she got home, but it was too late.

“Yeah?” she asked.

“I’m Stacy Gomer, your new caseworker,” she said, extending her hand. Lilly shook the woman’s hand with an ironic grin.

“What’s so humorous?” the woman asked.

“I won another round,” Lilly replied.

“I don’t understand,” Stacy admitted, looking curious.

“My last caseworker said she’d get me to straighten up, and guaranteed me that she’d eventually wear me down, just like all the ones before. Are you going to make that promise, as well?” Lilly asked, looking at the woman with an amused expression.

“What’s your score, so far?” Mrs. Gomer asked.

“Me seven, you guys zero,” Lilly said. Stacy Gomer didn’t miss the obvious separation of her from them, as if it was some kind of competition.

“It seems you have a bit of a rough history with DFCS,” Stacy said, then made a very obvious stop in her conversation.

“Mrs. Cooly, I’m going to take Priscilla out with me for a time. I’d like to try and get to know her a bit, if that’s agreeable with you,” Stacy said.

“Whatever you want, Mrs. Gomer,” Lilly’s foster mom replied. This was an unusual approach by a caseworker, and Lilly was curious.

“Would you like to go out to dinner with me?” Stacy then asked Lilly. This was definitely not normal. Although Lilly would normally have refused, getting a free meal at a restaurant was something not to be thrown away.

“Are you about to take me back to rehab?” Lilly asked, her instinctive suspicion showing before she accepted.

“Do you think I need to?” Stacy asked, seeing Lilly’s guarded expression.

“Nope, I’m good,” Lilly said.

She followed the caseworker out, and got in the car, still not having changed clothes. A short while later, they were at an Italian restaurant, Lilly enjoying the best meal she’d had in a very long time. She had considered being nice and somewhat frugal in her meal choice, but knowing meals like this were far too rare a treat, she couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Still, she didn’t order the most expensive meal on the menu, just what she really wanted.

“Did you have a good supper?” Stacy asked, when Lilly had finished, coming just short of licking her plate.

“Yep,” Lilly replied, her earlier suspicion reasserting itself.

“How’re things in your current placement?” Stacy asked her, using a very polite and caring tone.

“You don’t need to act like you care,” Lilly told her.

“You’re under a misunderstanding, Priscilla. I do care, although I think I understand why you’d think I don’t. Your prior caseworkers didn’t fulfill their obligations, as they should’ve,” she said.

Lilly looked at her for a minute, before speaking again. When she did, her expression was almost of curiosity. “My current placement sucks. The other girls in my room don’t like me, not that I like them, and my foster parents are rude and obnoxious, plus they don’t have a clue about anything resembling nutrition. But, I’ve had worse,” she said, watching Stacy’s reaction.

“Do you want me to try and find another home for you?” she asked.

“No. At least I know what to expect there, and it’s better than most of the dumps y’all have sent me to,” Lilly replied, curious as to why this woman seemed to be willing to work with her. At that point, she decided to head one potential problem off, and it would also give her a better feel for this woman’s real intentions.

“I’m sure you’ve already been told, but in case you haven’t, I might be arrested soon,” Lilly began, and the woman became very concerned, even leaning forward. What Lilly wasn’t sure of was whether it was concern for her, or maybe the increased workload she’d have as a result of her trouble.

“What for?” Stacy asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“I beat the hell out of the school’s star football player,” she replied, as if it was nothing.

“And why did you beat the hell out of him?” she asked. Lilly was a little surprised that Stacy copied her wording. None of her previous caseworkers ever made even the slightest attempt to talk to her on her level.

“He wanted me to go out with him,” she started, then after thinking about it a moment, started over. “He wanted an easy lay, and I said no,” she corrected. “But he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I had to tell him the only way I thought he was capable of understanding,” Lilly finished. At Stacy’s obvious curiosity, Lilly said, “I beat the shit out of him.”

Stacy was unable to keep from chuckling, although she did try. Even then, she was absolutely unable to stop from smiling. When she finally had herself under control, she asked, “Did he touch you inappropriately?”

“Yeah, more than once,” she replied, “And I have recordings of it,” she added.

“Really?” Stacy asked, a little surprised at the forethought of that. “We’ll deal with that, when and if it becomes a problem. In the meantime, can I have a copy of those recordings?” she asked.

“They’re on my iPod, and it’s about to die,” Lilly said.

“Can you try and email them to me?” she asked.

“Can I have your email address?” Lilly asked, expecting the usual dodge at that request, even though Stacy had suggested it. Stacy again surprised Lilly by handing her a card, which had all of her contact information on it, not just the emergency phone number.

“Email me those recordings, and if they’re as damning as you suggest, we’ll defend you,” she promised. Lilly was really beginning to reconsider this woman, but it was going to take a lot more than this to fully convince her.

“Listen, I know you’ve had a bit of a bad time in foster care, but I really want to try and help you succeed. I need you to help me, though,” she said, and paused to look at the girl in front of her. “Your grades have never really fallen, except a couple of times, and then only a tiny bit. If you continue as you have with your grades, you have a very good opportunity to get plenty of scholarships to college, which would give you a good, successful future. I’ll do everything in my power to help you, if you want it,” she said.

“Why do you want to help me?” Lilly asked.

“Aside from it being my job, I love to help kids. That’s why I made this my job,” she said.

“That’s not good enough,” Lilly stated.

“I don’t know what else to say to convince you that I really do want to help you,” Stacy said.

“Thank you for supper, but can I go back home? I have a lot of homework to get done,” Lilly said, even though it was the first day of school.

“Sure, if that’s what you want,” Stacy agreed.

After Meeting Priscilla

“Sir, I had my first meeting with Priscilla yesterday. She’s very cynical of us, which isn’t much of a surprise, considering what she’s been through. However, it’s obvious that she’s very intelligent, and it comes out in her manner of speech. As with most kids in the system, she’s very mature in some ways, but emotionally, she’s rather immature. There wasn’t enough interaction to form a real assessment, but with that initial meeting, I think she could definitely be a good fit for a permanent home, if we can find one, and get her some therapy,” she said.

“What about her current placement?” he asked.

“I don’t think either side would agree to that, especially her. I asked how her current placement was and she said it sucked, but she wasn’t willing to have me relocate her. She felt that what she had could be much better than what she could end up with,” Stacy said.

“And what about your research? Have you made any progress there?” he asked.

“Not really, sir. There are some oddities in her files that I can’t figure out, especially with regard to her mother,” she said. “I wish her first caseworker had kept better notes, or any notes, other than the alleged drug and gang activity,” she said. “By the way, sir, I’m almost convinced there’s no merit to those charges, but I can’t prove it at this point. However, there’s no evidence that they’re not true, either,” she said.

Just as he was about to speak, she said, “I almost forgot. Apparently, the star football player of the high school she attends made some inappropriate advances on her. I’m going to quote her sir. She said, ‘I beat the shit out of him’, end quote. I’ve reached out to the high school and confirmed what she said. The principal also confirmed that this particular boy has done this in the past, but that Priscilla, or Lilly, as the principal referred to her, was the first to put him in his place,” she said.

“What are the likely ramifications for her actions?” he asked.

“Layton Kirk was taken to the hospital and he has a broken jaw, along with some damage to his testicles,” she said, unable to stop a chuckle from escaping. “All of his injuries will heal, in time. Sir, Lilly told me she has recordings of her interactions with him, which might help her case, should charges be brought against her. She sent them to me, but I haven’t seen them yet, so I have no idea how beneficial they’ll be. I think she’d still be found guilty of assault, since she did instigate the attack without provocation, at the time it occurred. With the extenuating circumstances, she might get off with little more than a slap on the wrist, and it would likely have a much more long term impact on him and any college and scholarship opportunities he might have. I suspect, if his parents decided to make an issue, and they were shown the possible repercussions of that choice, they would likely back off, regardless of the reputation she has,” she said.

“What reputation is that?” he asked.

“It’s mostly documented in her file, but everyone believes she’s involved with the Fangs, using drugs and...um...rather loose,” she said.

“With those potential problems, do we put our resources into defending her?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, without hesitation.

“It seems that Priscilla, or Lilly, has won you over,” he observed.

“Won over, not yet. Winning over, possibly,” she corrected.

“Alright. Continue digging and keep me updated,” he told her.