Stila

Nixon pulled up to the familiar brown building I had once called home and I couldn't help but scurry off the motorcycle with excitement. I practically tore the helmet off my head and handed it to Nixon who was eyeing me out curiously.

He hung the helmet onto the handlebars before kicking the stand down and hopping off the seat. I met his eyes that were now gazing at me with a sense of worry and question. I gave him a shy smile and turned around to face the entrance of the building I had grown so accustomed to.

I couldn't believe I was saying this, but I was so glad to be back. Over the moon in fact. I had missed my friends. The friends I had spent every hour of the day with and the friends I considered family. Not like the Potter family people were made to believe I belonged in.

Nerves racked through my body at the thought of returning back home. I knew I would be facing the harsh consequences of my reckless actions, but I didn't regret them one bit. I knew I had nowhere to go but home, so the consequences were going to have to be dealt with. I would take it on the chin, because it was I that got myself into the predicament to begin with.

I walked up the small amount of stairs, to the porch and stood in front of the double wooden doors. I pressed the doorbell and a rush of excitement flew through me. I didn't notice Nixon following me until I felt the warm presence of his muscled chest against my back. I wanted to lean back into him and bathe in his warmth but considering we only just met, I could imagine how weird that would be.

One of the doors slowly opened to reveal Mrs Devons, one of my previous carers. A smile blew up on her face as she stepped forward and gathered me in her small arms. I immediately cuddled into her embrace and smiled.

"It's nice of you to come visit us, Stila," She said, stepping out of our embrace.

I took in her aged appearance and nodded in agreement.

"I had to come. I missed you guys."

Mrs Devons smiled lovingly and opened the door behind her to invite us in. I stepped through the doors, Nixon following suite. Mrs Devons sent Nixon a small smile and Nixon replied with a simple nod in acknowledgement.

Nixon's eyes darted around, gathering in the hundreds of kids running around. My eyes darted around the facility and a sense of nostalgia hit me. Everything was just as it was three and a half months ago. Nothing changed. The walls were still a light brown colour and they were still covered with framed photos of all the children. The play area consisted of the same toys and the kitchen even had the same patisserie smell.

I headed off towards the kitchen to assist Mrs Devons with meal preparation. The older children would normally be assisting, but from what I gathered, it must have been someone's birthday. There were balloons and confetti everywhere and the kids were going haywire.

Mrs Devons, or Maggie as she preferred to be called, was stirring a pot of chicken soup. I absolutely favoured Mrs Devons over any of the other workers at the orphanage. She always went above and beyond to comfort and spend time with all of the kids. She was the mother figure I needed and wanted.

I walked towards her and tapped her shoulder, "Can I do anything to help?"

Her now completely greyed hair was thrown up into a top knot, minus a few loose tendrils framing her face. She wore her glasses all the way on the tip of her nose, making it all the more easier to see her soft blue eyes. She was an older woman with an extremely petite frame. I stood more than a few inches taller than her and I was only 5'4.

"Don't be silly, dear! The food is almost done. It only needed a good stir."

I nodded and smiled at her in acknowledgment. Mrs Devons' eyes darted over my shoulder and fixated on something behind me. Before I could turn around, she grabbed my attention.

"Now, who is that?" She asked me, pointing her frail finger in Nixon's direction.

I looked over at him and noticed an uncomfortable expression settled on his face. The kids were running around him, tackling his legs and trying to climb up his hard body. It almost made me giggle had it not been for the look of terror flashing through his eyes.

"Oh, um, that's Nixon. He gave me a ride here," I stated, averting my gaze away from the beautiful man and meeting Mrs Devons' soft blue eyes.

"Now, Stila, I gave you the birds and the bees talk years ago. I don't have to go through that with you again, do I?" She questioned, her thin eyebrow raised. Amusement was clearly swelling in her eyes and the thought of another sex talk made me blush bright red.

"N-no Ma'am," I replied with a quick shake of my head.

Mrs Devons chuckled softly, reaching over to pinch my cheek.

"Such a sweetheart you are, Star. We miss you 'round here."

I smiled fondly, "I miss it too."

My gaze drifted around the walls of the building, and took in the various photos of children that were hanging up in a collaged pattern. Even an orphanage had photos hanging on the wall. I didn't understand Mr and Mrs Potter's distaste towards a little presentation of familial affection.

"How's the family life?" Maggie questioned.

I almost shivered in response to the question I was dreading to answer, but it was only obvious she was going to ask.

"It's... different," I stated, settling with the safest word I could think of.

Her small eyes squinted as she trailed her gaze over my face, as if to see if I was telling her the truth. I sent her smile in hopes of easing her nerves, but Maggie knew better.

"Now, I'm no social media expert but I can't say I haven't heard about The Potters, Stila. I know their kind," She started, giving me a pointed look. "I know these people may not treat you as fairly as you deserve but I hope matters aren't worse than I am assuming, hm?"

I grew pale at the knowing look on her face. I almost didn't want to answer but I had imagined the result of my quietness would be worse than if I gave her an evasive response.

"They're... strict. We don't get along very well but I'm well looked after. I'm fed, bathed and clothed. I can't complain," I answered her, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

I could complain. In fact, I had a crap load of things I could complain about. But I didn't want Maggie to know. I knew she would only end up feeling guilty for passing me onto The Potters and I didn't want her to feel as though this was her fault.

My passive mask wavered a bit but I'm sure Maggie did not catch onto that. She squinted her eyes at me as if she knew I was lying to her, but she kept quiet and just nodded. A sigh of relief passed my lips and my shoulders sagged.

I had never been a great liar, so I'm glad Maggie had stopped her interrogation otherwise I'm sure she would find out a lot more than I would have wished her to.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

I took a sip from my straw and almost moaned at the chocolatey goodness. My tastebuds were dancing with happiness right now.

After spending a couple of hours at the orphanage, we had left and Nixon was kind enough to stop at an ice cream parlour on the way back home. I was currently drinking a huge chocolate milkshake, whilst Nixon, who sat across me, devoured a massive cup of gelato.

"So, why do they call you Star?" He asked with furrowed brows, his thin lips set into a tight line of confusion.

"Stila translates to star in Greek," I spoke softly whilst stirring my straw around my glass. "I guess it's easier to pronounce, especially for the young ones."

He nodded slowly in understanding.

"Do you have a cell?"

"Yes," I replied, a little confused at his question.

He reached his hand out and gestured for me to pass my phone to him. I slid my phone from my coat pocket and handed it to him. He started typing, what I had assumed was his phone number, before handing me back my phone.

"My number is under 'Nixon'. I've messaged myself so I also have your number."

I nodded in confusion and shock, "Thank you."

He nodded back in reply before returning back to his gelato cup.

I tilted my head in wonder. Nixon was naturally a quiet person from what I gathered so far. He evaded answering questions and only spoke when necessary. That much was obvious from the amount of nodding he's done today. I'm surprised his neck hasn't snapped in half.

I didn't question him on his quiet behaviour and just kept quiet by drinking my milkshake.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Nixon parked midway down the street like I asked him too. I didn't want to risk the Potters hearing a motorcycle engine revving throughout their beloved neighbourhood. That would only cause much more trouble.

I swung my leg over the seat and unstrapped the helmet from my head. I handed it to Nixon with a weary smile and he took it with a nod.

"Thank you for today. I really needed a day out, and you gave me such a fun-filled day," I spoke shyly.

His hazel eyes were fixated on me, as if he was trying to see through me. It made me slightly uncomfortable but more excited than anything.

"You're welcome. Anything you need, Stila, okay?"

My eyes grew wide in shock and it took everything in me to stop my mouth from dropping open.

"I had assumed I was a bit of a nuisance today. I did ask a lot of you," I whispered and bit down on my bottom lip.

Nixon's eyes followed my movements and his eyes darkened noticeably.

"It was a good day for me, Stila. And I mean it when I say if you need anything, you call me. If you need another day out, so be it, but I'll be the one taking you out."

A smile took over my face and I nodded bashfully.

"Well thank you for today, Nixon. I'll be sure to be in touch with you if I need anything. You really don't have to do that for me, but I'll be taking you up on that offer soon," I said, already knowing I was going to need another escape sooner or later. I would be an idiot to say no to his offer. I had pride but I also had more than half a brain.

Nixon nodded and gestured up the road to my house. I smiled at the tattooed man one last time and turned on my heel, heading towards my house. My heels clacked against the gravel of the road and my dress flew back with the wind. I formulated a quick plan to enter the house without making contact with either of the Potters. I was okay with being screamed at, but I knew entering the house at an ungodly hour, after my escape, there would be more than a few punches and slaps involved.

I took my heels off once I reached the house, to minimise the noise I would be making. I ran up the porch, barefooted, and rang the doorbell. I ran back down the stairs and around the side of the house to where my room was situated.

There was a ladder left here from the window cleaners that came earlier this week and I sent a quick thanks to God for being on my side. I slid my heels into the pocket of my coat and grasped the sides of the ladder. I heard the front door open and I mumbled a few curses knowing I needed to speed up the process. I basically ran my way up the ladder and slid my slender fingers under the frame of the large window.

I struggled to push the heavy glass up and grunted at my weakness. Finally the window budged and opened with a squeak. I slid my frame through the small gap and fell into a heap on my floorboards. I smiled at my success and rushed up to close the window.

Letting out a huff, I walked closer to my door and opened it so there was only a tiny gap. The conversation between Mr and Mrs Potter drifted to my ears.

"I can't believe that brat ran off! Like we didn't give her everything," Mrs Potter scoffed.

I could hear shuffling before the conversation continued. I decided to sneak out of my room and to the top of the stairs to hear better. My eyes locked on their figures. Mr Potter sat on the arm rest of the couch whilst Mrs Potter paced the living room.

"We could always get another one," Mr Potter shrugged nonchalantly.

My eyes widened. Is he for real? Another one? Like we were objects and not kids!

Mrs Potter sent him an incredulous look.

"Another one?" She shrieked. "Do you know how that would make us look? Worse than before!"

Mr Potter opened his mouth to reply but Mrs Potter cut him off abruptly.

"Everyone already has this image of us, Harry! They think we are incapable parents. They think we are heartless."

I could see a strained look come onto Mr Potter's face, "Well we are. We fostered that girl for our image, Elizabeth. Don't tell me you give a crap about her?"

Mrs Potter groaned in annoyance, "We aren't supposed to seem heartless! Don't you get it? She was supposed to make us look like heroes, not villains. And now she's gone, and probably spitting all over our names."

Mr Potter threw his hands up in defence. I shook my head and stepped away from the stairs, darting straight back to my room.

They were horrible, horrible people. And one day, I hope everyone found out.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Well, well, well! That's chapter five done and dusted!

I kind of love Nixon...

Anywhoooo, how did we like the chapter? I personally had fun writing it but I must admit, Nixon is a challenging character to write.

Okurrrttt, See you in the next chappy!!

Xoxo,
Eden <3