I cant center this because mac word sucks. Hard.

I took a step back, which would be the move I would regret for the rest of my life. But now isnt a time for going back. Its a time for going forward. I cant go back. Not ever. I guess I should explain why I cant go back. I was failing again. School just started a month ago and I was already failing. I promised my dad Id get As. Now I was on the streets, heading to Danielles house. I was finally kicked out for good and needed someone to talk to. She was the only one I could talk to. Well, since my girlfriend moved away. She moved exactly 2251 kilometers away from my house. It would take one day and 17 minutes to drive there, if you factor in traffic. Seeing as I was just kicked out of my house and didnt own a car, walking that would be a little longer. But right now I was walking to Danielles to talk this over.

When I got there she was wearing an outfit that just screamed, I spent the last few days at home, Im staying home today and for the next few days. She must have had relationship problems again. Shes always having those. She was a little stupid with people. She would spend all her time with her boyfriend then when they inevitably broke up, she would complain her friends spent all their time with their boyfriends and she didnt have anyone to talk to. But she was broken up now so she could talk to me. I explained my dad kicked me out. I grabbed my backpack and wished I brought something better. All I had in there was schoolwork. I managed to grab the love notes my girlfriend gave me. I happened to be wearing the shirt she gave me at the time. It wasnt luck, I would say I wore it religiously, but thats inaccurate. I wore it more times than a devout Christian attends church.

Danielle was nice. Sometimes nicer than youd allow. If you had her attention, youd get it all. Even if she was having her own problems she would keep quiet and listen to yours. It was sweet. So I explained what happened. I was getting a whopping 12% in my world issues class. On my test I actually drew a Venn diagram of things I know and things on the test. Lets just say it looked more like the relationship between hoops on a basketball court than the rings in a magic trick. When I got home I had a brand new computer waiting for me that just came in. My dad explained that my teacher called and spilled about my test. He said that I need to learn the way he did, on the streets. So he told me to get the fuck out. I took a number for a group home and my backpack and left. I went to the only person who would listen. She waited for a pause and cut in how do you like your coffee? I dont I thought, but it was a little late for that and shes only trying to help so I said double double toil and trouble I had a penchant for Shakespeare. She smiled. After she learned my story she said that I could stay for a few days.

I tried to be the least burden possible to extend my stay. I slept on the floor in Danielles room using my backpack as a pillow and my notebooks as some sort of blanket. It didnt work too well but I figured it would be the best I could get on the streets so I might as well get used to it. As I laid on the ground I thought about earlier that day, I was happy-go-lucky thinking about a brand new laptop. Now I was using David Suzukis writing as a blanket. At least I was inside.

As much as I tried helping and avoiding being a burden, my few days came to an end. I was on the street. I started regretting my choice to not make friends. I was at that school four years almost and my best friend was the librarian. I couldnt stay with her. Maybe I could ask. I was still attending school. Being kicked out gave me a little incentive to actually work. Too little too late I guess. I could always stay with my mom, but who wants to live with that psycho bitch? No one. I just walked around for hours, finally ending on a park bench with a piece of paper in my hand staring at the number for the group home. If I call them then its real. Im really out of my house for good. Maybe I could just go back and everything would be forgiven and I could live in the discomfort of home. My fathers words running through my mind, I dont want you living here anymore There were other phrases but that one basically sums it up. No going back, only forward. I broke down and decided to call.

Fuck. I remember staring at my jar of change before leaving and deciding not to take it. How was I supposed to call for help without proper financing? Fuck capitalism. Phones should be free. Whatever happened to freedom of speech? I wanna speak to someone far away, give me my rights damn it! But as I was still in the park I decided to walk to a payphone and look for some change on the way there. 10 minutes later and 4 bumping incidents later I was at a phone with no change. Not even a penny. I figured I could ask someone for a quarter, I still look clean enough to be sheltered. I remember hearing that its illegal to beg for change near payphones, its for homeless people because its awkward to say you dont have change then use some right after, but making people who dont carry change criminals by asking for a quarter for a phone call? Thats a little ridiculous. Oh well. No one was around to ask anyway. Time to play the slots. Of all the times Ive left my change in the vending machines because Im too rich and lazy to bend down, karma better pay off. YES! I won.

Covenant House, this is Judy how can I help? Hi, Judy, how are you? Im doing alright, how are you? Im doing alright I guess, I was kicked out of my house, can I stay with you?

As long as you fit the requirements well I sure hope so, because I have nowhere else to stay well thats a start, we only accept people from 16-24 well Im 18. Is that your only requirement? pretty much, we dont turn people away. You also have to follow the rules. Do tell. We work to ensure an emotionally and physically safe environment. We have a curfew every night of the week. No drugs or weapons are allowed. We also expect you to use respectful language and dress appropriately. I can handle that

Judy gave me directions and I was on my way. It was final, now for sure. I was accepted into another home. I guess its a home. Its called a house. I have a feeling it wont be too homey when I get there. I guess well see.

CHAPTER TWO

Where do you special order the worst mattresses in the world? These places seem to have them on speed dial. Probably the same place airlines get their food and public bathrooms get their toilet paper. But I had to admit ,it was a bed. Well, a mattress on a wooden shelf. I guess it was a nice enough place. It was certainly better than my other options. It had a bed with an area underneath to store my bag and a nightstand to store a clock and a light. Both seemed to be from the 1800s without the expensive antique feel.

I had a roommate, Natasha. She was certainly interesting. She liked to dress strangely but somehow managed to stay within the dress code. When I woke up she was wearing a bright red skirt with boys underwear that ended lower than the skirt, with the phrase Bah Humbug repeated over them. She had knee high socks with purple and white stripes. She had the upper half of a catholic schoolgirl uniform on with thick-rimmed square glasses and her hair was purple. From afar it looked like she just woke up but up close you can tell hours of effort went into it. It seems impossible to say it was tasteful, but it was.

I got up and dressed in the only clothes I had. Silk boxers, blue jeans, favourite band t-shirt my girlfriend Emelyn gave me and my new fancy sweater. I had socks but they were full of holes so I ended up throwing them out before I got to the house. I sleepily walked barefoot downstairs to the kitchen. There was a lady making breakfast, bacon and eggs. Im not a huge fan of eggs, more like a regular fan. But I am a huge fan of bacon. I managed to get some in the bustling kitchen. There were about 15 kids in there plus the cooking team. As I sat down at the table I noticed a pitcher of orange juice. Also not a big fan of this but its a pretty good breakfast. I poured myself a glass and started in on my eggs. Save the best for last right? As I was taking my first bite I noticed these were on the same quality level as the mattresses. I suppose thats expected though.

The bacon was mediocre. Low quality but, its bacon, delicious. As I was finishing my food and noting the lack of toast, one of the staff introduced me to everyone around the table. This is Anthony, William, Jessica, Jaclyn, Zach and Kristine. Im Pearl. Everyone, this is Osric. I surveyed them all. They were quite the bunch. I would get to know them quite well soon enough so I tried memorizing names to faces.

Anthony was tall and skinny with short spiky brown hair. He wore a basketball jersey and looked angry. Something like a permanent scowl. I noticed while he was eating that he takes food off his fork with his teeth. I cant stand that.

William was a short boy about 16 with dark hair and tanned skin. Tanned until he looked Mexican. He had an overbite. He seemed happier than Anthony but also seemed to be his best friend. Like a Chester and Spike type relationship.

Jessica was a very bland person from what I could tell. She seemed very meek but also the type of person where even if you do have a conversation, its boring. She wore gray clothes, was very pale and had died dark red hair. I could tell it was died because her brown roots were growing out.

Jaclyn seemed like her William. Aside from them sitting together she was talking to Jessica about her hair. Classic girl conversation. She had bright blonde hair and it was very wavy bordering on curly. May or may not have been natural. She had a look to her. Like she wrote things in her free time that wasnt a diary but no one was allowed to read it anyway. I have a feeling it would be sliterature. Thats what I call literature so bad it makes you slit your wrists.

Zach was interesting. He sat alone and wore a purple sweater. He had long bangs covering his eyes. Remember when I said he was interesting? By that I meant boring and plain. But its interesting how many people are exactly like him.

Kristine was all over the place. She was the Chester to no ones Spike. Just a happy person and she was definitely my favourite at the table. She had long brown hair and a pointy nose. She was the most pale. Tied with Jessica maybe. She could be a good friend.

I imagined what they were thinking about me. what kind of name is Osric? What is this, the 1700s? Its a fair point, I was blessed with a strange name. My parents thought I should have a cool/badass name but it ended up just being weird. It grows on people I think. At least it grew on me. When I was growing up I hated it because its so strange but now I agree that its pretty badass. Osric Holden Whitaker. My middle name was taken from Catcher in the Rye. I hate that book but its a cool name. I sometimes go by Holden. Holden Osric sounds cooler than Osric Holden. My

last name is kind of original. These are more personal qualities than theyd be looking at though.

They would ask about my name then look at my physical features. Black hair, smooth face, crooked smirk on my face almost at all times. Some people said I look like Jake Gyllenhaal. I dont much care for that compliment because I think he looks like a girl. But apparently hes good looking so I dont hate it. Im quite attractive in my own way. Also really modest.