Chapter Text
“Theresa. Theresa? Theresa!” A voice called out, sounding close by.
Who was shouting at this hour? His name surely wasn’t Theresa. His parents would never name him such a weak name like Theresa . It must have been someone they passed by then, but there was no one to be seen.
“Theresa Innit, answer me!” The voice called again, this time louder. So loud that he had to cover his ears. He never did well with loud noises or shouting.
Blinking back into reality, he noticed that they were in a moving car. Next to him was his social worker. A horrible lady, in his opinion. She was glaring at him for some reason, switching her gaze from the road to him.
“What happened to the manners I taught you?” She snapped, ignoring how he winced.
“Sorry…” He mumbled, looking out the window to avoid her stare.
“Sorry, who?” She sighed, her knuckles white against the dark grays of the car.
“Sorry, Miss Laura…” He grumbled back.
His social worker sighed again, taking the hint that this was the best answer she was going to get out of him.
“Remember to be nice to the family. They’ve been in the system for years and we don’t want to lose them. They’re valuable-” Miss Laura started, her eyes back on the road.
“Valuable clients, I know.” He rolled his eyes. He had lost count how many times Miss Laura told him about this family. To him, they sounded rich and only adopted to look like nice people.
“Theresa. Don’t interrupt me.” She ordered, taking the car down a side street. They had entered the neighborhood, and all of the houses were grand and expensive looking.
Minutes later they pulled up in one of the many white houses. This one had roses of every color lined up in the front. A strange yet cute touch to the blank house.
“Theresa.” Miss Laura looked at him. “Promise me you’ll try and I won’t have to come back for you in two months.” Something like pity flashed in her eyes.
Theresa had lasted exactly two months in the last house. It wasn’t her fault though, the family she was staying with didn’t like how she dressed. Wasn’t girly enough.
“I’ll try.” She nodded, swearing to herself that if this family was the same as the other one, she would commit arson. She was not going to go through the same thing again.
Miss Laura smiled at her, guiding her to the door with a gentle hand. She didn’t bother bringing anything from the past house, so her hands were empty and her only clothes were the ones on her his body. Miss Laura rang the doorbell and waited, standing in front of her as if she was trying to shield her from something.
“Finally, the pizza’s here-” A short, fluffy brown haired child opened the door. “You're not pizza, nor do you have pizza…”
Another kid appeared, two feet from hitting their head on the doorframe. Theresa had learned not to assume anything from two houses ago. He had called a boy with long hair a girl, and he was sent to his room with no food for that day.
They had black and white split dye hair. One brown eye had red eyeshadow while the other had green. An interesting fashion statement for sure.
“Is Mr. Craft home?” Miss Laura asked, looking at the two children.
“Oh, you're the new foster kid. Dadddddddddddddddddddddddddddd.” The shorter exclaimed.
Footsteps came from the back of the house. They came from a figure wearing a gray hoodie and something in their hand. Theresa couldn’t see from his angle and again, he didn’t want to assume.
“You must be Laura.” The hoodie person shook her hand before glancing at Theresa. “And you’re Theresa?”
Theresa slowly nodded, afraid to move even the slightest.
“If you have the time, Mr. Craft. There’s still some papers I would like you to sign.” Miss Laura moved him forward. She could feel the two kids staring at her weird clothes. She knew wearing boy clothes was a bad impression.
“Of course. If Theresa would like, Ranboo and Tubbo can give a tour of the house.” Mr. Craft nodded at the two kids.
“I'll show you where you're staying.” The shorter one jumped up and down, running to the stairs. The taller kid followed more slowly, waiting for Theresa.
“Go on.” Miss Laura whispered, pushing him towards the kids, as if they weren’t strangers to him. Theresa hesitated, shuffling her feet towards the stairs, watching Miss Laura and Mr. Craft disappear behind a wall.