Kitten's Wild Possessive Lover

3. Eager aren’t we

CATALINA POV

I'm making my way down the street, feeling sorry for myself. Pathetic. Maybe I can go to a shelter or something like that. Karen once told me I was very lucky to live in their house. Most adults that have nowhere to go fight to get a spot in a shelter. Any time I complained about the number of chores I had or when I took too long to get things done. She made sure I knew things could be much worse. That she and Joe didn't have to help me out by letting me stay.

Right as I'm about to scold myself for my self-pity, I see a flyer taped to a light post. Huh, someone named Veronica is looking for a roommate. Fate! I need to call her, but I don’t have a cell phone, and have you seen a working phone booth around recently? I look across the street and I am about to eat my words. A phone both! Crossing the street, praying that when I get there it's not a mirage. I pick up the receiver and the sweetest sound hits my ears. A dial tone. Yay! Quickly, I put in some coins and dial the number, it rings twice before she picks up.

Veronica: Hello. She answers sounding bored already.

Catalina: Hi. I'm calling about the roommate needed flyer. I am a little too excited.

Veronica: OK, calm down. I have a few questions before I consider showing you the place. She says drily.

Catalina: Shoot. I said quickly.

Veronica: Eager aren’t we? First, name. Second, do you have a job? Third, references. Fourth, how old are you? She rushes out.

Catalina: My name is Catalina. Yes, I have a job. No, I just moved out and I'm only nineteen. I say quickly, trying to avoid saying where I moved out from.

I heard her sigh loudly and there was silence. I'm getting nervous thinking she is going to reject me and hang up.

Veronica: Ok. I'll need to meet you first. If I approve, we can come to my place so you can check it out. She responds reluctantly.

She gave me directions to a coffee shop that's near her place. I arrived and waited out front for her. It’s a cozy place with tables outside, there are people sitting typing away on their laptops. A few minutes pass and I see a petite girl that is a bit shorter than I am. With a blond bob and blue eyes. She’s cute as a button! However, I can tell her attitude is much bigger than she is.

“Veronica?” Her face is giving off the attitude she spoke with on the phone. “Yup! Let’s do this, I'm late for a nap.” She says as she sits down at a table outside. “Okay.” I said, dragging it out. “So, nineteen, huh.” She eyed me up and down. “Where do you work?” She looks skeptically at me. “Claire's diner.” I replied quickly. “Why did you move out of your parents’ house?” She asks, looking at me with her eyebrows furrowed. “I didn't live with my parents. I lived in foster care and aged out. The people that fostered me let me stay for a year before telling me I had to go.” I say, trying not to seem too pathetic. “Well, that’s fucked.” She says bluntly. “Yes, I guess so.” I giggled. “So, I'm guessing you have no deposit to give.” She said, more as a fact than a question. “No, I don’t.” I confirmed her assumption.

She's looking at me with her eyebrows furrowed. She is taking in my clothes and shoes. Maybe she's upset that I wasted her time. Maybe I can offer to clean and cook in lieu of the deposit. She keeps looking at me without saying anything, deep in thought, and I'm getting more and more nervous. I wish she would just reject me so that I can go figure out what I'm going to do. She sighs deeply and takes a sip of the coffee she brought with her. I'm about to speak up when she beats me to it.

“ OK, here is the deal. You pay rent on the first on time. It's three hundred a month for a room. You can use the kitchen, living room and bathroom. You MUST clean up after yourself. Understand?” She said so quickly I almost thought I imagined it. “But your flyer says five hundred.” I stupidly pointed out. “Yes, I know.” She confirmed while getting up and motioning me to follow her.

We walked a block until we ended up at a condominium complex. The neighborhood is very nice. At five hundred dollars, the rent was well below the price. I'm thinking to myself, why would she ask for so little and then lower it even more? Did I just unwillingly follow a murderer back to their lair? She doesn't look like a murderer, but that doesn't mean she isn't. She punched in a code and the door buzzed and opened, allowing us to enter. She looks back at me, wondering why I'm not following her. I decided to take my chances. She’s tiny, I could probably take her if it came to that. I started walking in and she led me to the elevator, and it took us to the third floor. Room 201. She took out her key, opened the door and moved to the side, allowing me entry.

“This is it” she gestured around the condominium.

This place is beautiful. Maybe I see it that way because fifteen minutes ago I was homeless. Whatever the reason, it's perfect. Right when you walk in, there is a small dining area to the right. To the left, there is an open kitchen with an island counter with stools. Adjacent to the kitchen and dining area there is a partial wall separating the living area from the kitchen with a hall to the left. Veronica walks in and gives me "the tour", or so she called it. In the hall there are four rooms. The first two rooms are the common bathroom and laundry room, which are across from each other. At the very end of the hall, to the right, is the master (Veronica’s room), to the left is my room. It’s small, but I don’t need much, because I don't have much. Who am I kidding? I don't have anything. Luckily, it comes with a bed. After "the tour”, Veronica takes me to the kitchen and motions for me to take a seat on the stool by the counter. She looks at me as if she's studying me, and I can see she has questions but is unsure of how to ask. Which surprises me because she seems like she is very blunt based on our earlier conversation.

“Ima cut to the chase. Foster care... what’s it like?” She asks. I wasn't expecting that question. Hell, I wasn't expecting to get this far at all! Here goes nothing. “Well... for the most part it's just people housing you, feeding you and clothing you with money sent them from the government. If you’re lucky, sometimes... some people don't care enough to feed or clothe you. Sometimes people need a punching bag. I was pretty lucky, I only had four foster homes that decided ignoring me was too good for me. The past five years I have lived with a decent family. Until they kicked me out without warning.” I replied stoically. “They hit you?” She said angrily.

“Some... not all.” I whispered. “Anything else?” She asked, a little unsure.

Of course, I know what she’s asking. Most people, although aware of what happens to children in foster care, rarely ask about it. Not even my caseworker ever asked that. Which I found a bit odd, since that was her job! I'm not sure I'm ready to talk with anyone about that. Especially not with someone I just met. I tried to think of a nice way of expressing that to her.

“I'm sorry, you don't need to answer that. My dad is an attorney, and he had a few cases in the past that struck a chord with me. I don't understand why anyone would have kids just to hurt them. Or even foster them for the same reason. That's f****d up!” She said angrily. “It's better to set expectations very low when you are in a situation like mine. Most of the time, people don’t really care for you. Sometimes people take advantage of you and every once and awhile.... you meet a good person that gives you a chance.” I say, smiling at her. Oh no. She looks like she is going to cry. Should I hug her? “If you ever want to talk to me about anything, anything at all. I’m here.” She said, holding back her tears.

Now I want to cry!

“Thank you.” I say now, holding back my tears. “Can you tell me about yourself?” I quickly tried to change the subject. “Me? Well, I’m twenty years old and I’m currently going to school studying family law.” She says proudly. “That’s amazing! It’s great that you know what you want to do with your life.” I said excitedly. “I’m very fortunate, I decided to do something that will allow me to give back.” She beamed.

There was an awkward silence before she spoke again.

“You must be tired. Why don’t you go to rest before I keep interrogating you.” She teases. “ OK!” I replied while getting up and heading for my room.

This has been a very long, interesting, and blessed day. Its only 7pm but I feel like it’s a lot later. I lay down on my bed, ready to drift off to sleep. I think about everything I've been through and before I know it, I’ve dozed off.

VERONICA POV

I've been looking for a roommate for three months. Catalina is the fifteenth person I interviewed. I'm picky, and I'm also very "special" as my father likes to put it. I chose Catalina because I could see that she needed someone to give her a break. I honestly don't need a roommate for financial reasons. I own my condominium, thanks to my daddy. I just don't like living alone. I hope that one day she can open up to me. We don't have to be best friends, but I would like to be there for her. Be that person no one has been for her.

My daddy spoils me like crazy, but he also makes me aware of how spoiled I am. Made me aware that other children and young adults don’t have a quarter of the things I have. I knew he wasn't talking about material things. He was talking about love and family. Someone to care for them and protect them. I'm no expert on the foster care system, but I know those people are paid to take care of the kids they foster. Why they couldn't buy her clothes that fit is beyond me. She didn't even have a suitcase! What the hell did they need with old clothes that were clearly used before she even used them!

At this point, I'm livid! As soon as I get all her information, I'm considering having daddy look into her situation. Would I be overstepping? Yes, but I can't help it. She looks like a house-trained bunny that’s being introduced into the wild! She followed me home even though I saw uncertainty in her eyes. Her instincts told her she shouldn't follow a stranger. In the end, she felt like she had no other choice. If she had the misfortune to reply to a fake ad from some murderer or human trafficker... she would have felt as if she had no choice but to risk her life. Aren't there resources for people coming out of foster care? To ease them into the "real world" that is adulting? Another question for daddy. He is very busy, but not too busy to help his princess out. Plus, I know he will be just as upset as I am when he hears how carelessly she was thrown out. That or he may tell me it’s done more commonly than you think.