as long as i'm here
no one can hurt you
don't wanna lie here
but you can learn to
if i could change
the way that you see yourself
you wouldn't wonder why you hear
they don't deserve you

-----

Freen could feel it; the headache that was forming at her temples and spreading outward. She’d grown far too accustomed with the feeling as it’d been a constant occurrence during her visits to the principal’s office.

Pranita sat to her left, the teenager scowling and sitting back with her arms crossed over her chest.

She’d yet to explain herself, as per usual, which made these interactions all the more difficult.

“Listen,” Araya said as she rested her elbows on her desk. “I can only make so many exceptions. Pranita needs to start acting in check, respecting her teachers, and getting her grades up or else her time at Bangkok High is done.”

Freen sighed, rubbing her temple as she nodded in defeat.

“I understand. Is there anything you’d like to say Nita?” Freen asked, looking to the girl who avoided eye contact and fiddled with her nose ring.

“Alright. I’ll see you on Monday at 7am for detention then,” Araya said, giving the teen a pointed look before rising from her seat. “Thank you for coming in, Ms Freen.”

The two women shook hands while Nita took the chance to leave the office, not bothering to address her principal or the situation for that matter.

Freen left the office and found that her foster daughter had already made her way out of the building and towards the car.

Emily, who had her face buried in her book, seemed to have missed her sister’s exit. Freen took a calming breath before approaching the six-year-old.

“C’mon, love. Time to head home,” Freen said, running a loving hand through Emily's thick locks. She knew that the girl needed to wash her hair soon, but that was a fight for later.

“Where’s P'Nita?” Emily asked, shutting her book and looking around the empty corridor.

“Probably sulking by the car. We better find her before she finds a way to hotwire it.”

“What’s hot wire?” The little girl asked, making Freen laugh.

“Something you don’t need to learn about for a long time,” Freen said, wrapping an arm around the shoulder of the child and leading her out of the building.

The two approached the car to find Nita sitting on the hood, headphones already buried in her ears and some Metallica song playing far too loud for Freen's comfort. She didn’t need a child with hearing problems on top of everything else.

“Lower that down,” Freen said as she tugged a bud from Nita's ears.

“Don’t touch my stuff,” Nita snapped back, clearly not straying from her usual argument.

“I won’t,” Freen said with an even tone, raising her hands in surrender. “Just lower it down a bit. You know that kind of music makes Emily uncomfortable,” Freen reminded, motioning to the little girl who had already found her place in the backseat.

That seemed to get Nita to listen, the teen dropping the volume down significantly as she slid off the front of the car and grabbed her bag from the floor.

Freen knew that if there was one way to get Nita's attention it was through Emily.

The sisters came to her six months ago, both neglected and abused by the foster system, which inadvertently made them incredibly attached to one another. Pranita would protect Emily with her life, that much Freen knew.

She also knew that if anyone was a threat to Emily, the teen wouldn’t hesitate to show how lethal she could be.

It had been the first time that Freen had gotten shoved by a foster kid, and something told her it wouldn’t be the last so long as Nita was around, but she couldn’t fathom sending those girls back into the system. She couldn’t fail them.

“What do you girls feel like having for dinner?” Freen asked as she finally pulled away from the high school.

“Nothing.”

“Toast!”

Freen smiled at the excited response from Emily, looking at the girl through the rear-view mirror.

“How about something a bit more substantial, yeah? Maybe a sweet and sour prawn with rice?” Freen suggested, hoping that the picky six-year-old would agree.

Every so often Freen would make a meal that Emily enjoyed, but more often than not, the girl ended up eating her favourite food instead.

“Will it taste like toast?” Emily asked.

“Don’t ask silly questions, nong,” Nita said, her tone neither harsh nor warm.

It was her tone for Emily and no one else as it carried no venom or hatred. It was neutral.

“My teacher, Mrs. Mint, says there are no silly questions,” Emily said back, not catching the way her big sister rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, well, adults aren’t always reliable sources.”

“Mrs. Mint is right,” Freen said, hoping to deflect Nita's comment away from Emily. “There are no silly questions.”

“Of course she’s right! She’s a teacher, duh!”

Freen smiled, shaking her head at the six-year-old. She was glad to see some of Emily's childhood could be preserved and made better; it just pained her to realize that as a consequence it forced Nita to give up all of hers.

“So, prawns it is then.”

------

Becky knocked on Araya's office door, not waiting for a response as she rarely gave her adoptive mother the luxury of privacy.

“Becca,” Araya said, her smile lifting at the sight of her daughter.

“How’d your meeting with Pranita go?” Becky asked, jumping right to the chase as she took a seat across from the principal.

Working at the same school as her mother gave her easy access to more information about her students, especially the ones with a knack for causing trouble.

“About as well as it could have gone.”

“So she didn’t say a thing the whole time, huh?” Becky asked, making Araya nod with a sigh.

“She’s a tough one.”

“So was I,” Becky reminded, making Araya laugh.

“Don’t remind me. Most of these grey hairs are your doing.”

“And Pranita's foster mom?”

“Ms. Freen,” Araya supplied, nodding her head as she rested back in her seat and swiveled side to side. “She’s… doing her best.”

“And by that you mean she’s way in over her head.”

“Slightly, yes,” Araya laughed, “I have to cut her some slack though. I couldn’t imagine raising you, Richie, Taran, Marima, and Charlotte all on my own. I had your father. Freen is doing this by herself and she has two kids.”

“Which raises the question, why is she even doing it?” Becky said, almost immediately adding, “I know it’s not my place, but sometimes people need to recognize when they aren’t making a difference.”

“She is, though. Maybe not with Pranita, but Emily is clearly very comfortable with Freen. And those girls are inseparable.”

Becky nodded her agreement. She’d seen the sisters sitting together during the recess and lunch breaks. Both girls refused to interact with their peers outside of class so they stuck to one another like leeches.

It made Becky wonder what the two did when they attended schools that didn’t have K-12 in the same building.

“So what should I do the next time she integrates ‘fuck’ into her vocabulary in my class?” Becky inquired, combing her fingers through her hair.

“Remind her that it’s her last chance. After that send her my way and she’ll be formally expelled.”

“Won’t that be fun,” Becky said sarcastically as she thought about the outcome of that interaction with her student. “ Freen Sarocha is either a saint or an idiot for keeping that girl.”

“God bless her for trying,” Araya said, shaking her head in dismay. “We can’t save them all, though.”

-----

“Em, time to wash your hair,” Freen said as she walked into the shared room of Emily and Nita.

The teen was sat at the corner of her bed, headphones in place and music blaring as she sketched in her highly secretive sketchpad.

“One more chapter,” Emily said absentmindedly, eyes stuck to the page of her book.

“Hey, look at me for a second,” Freen said, sitting before the girl and placing a hand over the page. “Why don’t we make a deal, okay?”

Emily nodded enthusiastically.

“I’ll wash your hair and you can read your book out loud to me. How does that sound?”

“Can I have bubbles in my bath?”

“I don’t see why not,” Freen said, making Emily smile and jump off her bed.

“C’mon. You’re going to love this book,” Emily said, grabbing her foster mother’s hand and all but dragging her from the room.

Emily sat on the sink countertop and read while Freen filled the tub and mixed in the bubbles.

Once deemed warm and deep enough, Freen got Emily to climb in and face the wall so she had full access to her long and tangled hair.

“What have I told you about brushing your hair?”

“I forgot,” Emily said with a shrug, opening her book back to the page she was on and continuing from where she left off.

Freen listened intently to her foster daughter as she saturated her hair and lathered in the sweetsmelling shampoo.

Emily paused every so often so she could close her eyes and avoid soapsuds in her eyes but remained reading for the entirety of the time it took Freen to wash, condition, and brush through her hair.

“Here, you need to wash up,” Freen said when Emily made it to the end of her chapter.

She swapped the book for a washcloth already covered in soap.

Emily didn’t fight Freen on the request and began to clean her body while Freen worked through the remainder of the knots.

“Did P'Nita mess up again?” Emily asked after a few beats of silence.

Freen sighed. She knew this was coming. It always came after Nita got in trouble.

“No, honey. She just made a bad decision and has to be more mindful next time.”

“Are you going to send us away?” Emily asked, pausing her actions in what could be considered apprehension.

Freen couldn’t help but pause as well. It always surprised her how unstable the girls felt, even after six months with her proving to them she wasn’t going to abandon them.

“Of course not,” Freen said, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“Hey,” she said, turning the girl by her shoulders so she could look her in the eyes. “You know I’d never do that to you guys as a punishment.”

“Other foster parents did,” Emily said, frowning at the bad memories that were no doubt bombarding her.

Freen pressed a loving kiss the crown of Emily's head and held her lips there for a moment.

“I would never, ever, do that to you,” Freen said, looking right at the big brown eyes of the six-year-old. “Okay?”

Emily seemed to be content with that, allowing Freen to redirect her back to her original spot so she could resume the work on her hair.

“You’re like a superhero. Like the one from my book,” Emily said, and although she didn’t see her words as holding much power, she managed to make Freen feel like she’d won today despite everything.

“Thanks ka, baby,” Freen said, blinking back tears. “Now let’s get you out of this tub before you shrivel up like a raisin.”

“Can I have raisins before bed?”

“Why am I not surprised? The pickiest kid in the world likes raisins.”

“With cinnamon on top!” Emily added as an afterthought, making Freen laugh.

“Whatever you want, my love.”

It didn’t take long for the two to wrap things up in the bathroom and venture downstairs to the kitchen to get Emily her late-night snack.

The girl ate her cinnamon covered raisins and gave a detailed explanation to Freen about the antagonist of her current book and why they weren’t so bad after all, before eventually exhausting herself to a near sleeping state.

Freen cleared away the last dish and started the dishwasher before lifting the little girl into her arms and carrying her back to her shared room.

When she arrived the lights were out and Nita was asleep facing the wall, her music still blaring.

“Nose kiss,” Emily reminded as her comforter was drawn over her.

Freen smiled at the sleepy slur of the child’s words and nodded her head in agreement. The two rubbed noses, laughing at the tickle it brought to their faces.

“Sleep tight, tua lek,” Freen said, pressing a kiss to Emily's head before turning to Nita's side of the room.

She crept over and reached over Nita's sleeping form to lower down the volume of her music.

The girl didn’t stir, much to Freen's relief.

The tall brunette reached for the blanket she had set on the edge of Nita's bed and carefully draped it over the girl. She knew Nita ran cold at night, and the extra blanket always seemed like a welcomed addition.

A part of Freen liked to believe that Nita craved some motherly affection and left the blanket for her to put on top of her each night, even if it was most likely just the girl forgetting to do it herself.

Freen moved to press a kiss to Nita's head but chose not to press her luck. Instead, she backed out of the room and paused to take one last glance at her girls.

They were messy, a little broken, but still good and she loved them for that very reason.

-----

“No, Taran, I don’t feel like getting shit-faced tonight,” Becky said as she spoke to her sister over the phone.

“Why not?” Taran practically whined from her end.

“Because,” Becky groaned as she unlocked her apartment door and entered the empty place. “I have a job that involves minors in the morning,” she explained as she flipped on the lights and moved to the kitchen.

“You’re no fun, Becbec.”

“I am fun – just only on weekends.”

“But don’t you want to meet Richie's new girlfriend?”

“I’ll meet her another time. The real question should be if you want to meet her while drinking your weight in alcohol,” Becky teased as she grabbed a cup of instant noodle that would have to pass as dinner for tonight.

“Hey, I’m a fun drunk!”

“You’re also an honest, and might I add sloppy, drunk.”

Taran gasped in offence, making Becky roll her eyes as she plopped herself on her couch and turned on the TV.

“I am not sloppy.”

“Do I need to send you those pictures from the last-,”

“Do that and I’ll end you, Rebecca!” Taran seethed, making Becky laugh. “For real, though. When are you going to start getting back out there? Your life can’t be between the school and your apartment.”

Becky sighed and closed her eyes momentarily. “I just need time, sis.”

“She’s not coming back, Bec. Maybe it’s time to move on, you know? Try meeting new people.”

“I will. I-,”

“No more excuses. What’s your schedule like on Thursday?”

“I’m free after 2:00,” Becky said, pinching the bridge of her nose as she waited for Taran to reveal her next scheme.

“Perfect. I have to go look at an art piece around that time so I can pick you up and we can go together. You’d be amazed by the number of people you meet as an art collector.”

“You’re dragging me to work with you?” Becky asked, an amused smile playing on her lips. “To meet people?”

“Again, it’s a very social type of work. Besides, rumour has it that the artist I’m meeting is single and ready to mingle.”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s what they wrote along with their presentation of their piece.”

“Just be outside of the school on Thursday. And don’t tell Ma I’m picking you up otherwise she’ll force me to explain every detail of my life.”

“She cares for you.”

“And I care for her. Which is why I’ll be getting lunch with her on Sunday and giving her the full update then. No use interrupting her at work. I gotta go, Richie just arrived with a goddess and I need to find out how much he’s paying her to pretend to be his girlfriend.”

“Play nice, Tartar..” Becky sing-songed before saying goodbye to her sister and hanging up.

The brunette took a long look around her apartment. A few months ago she would have been surrounded by her. Now she was alone.

The silence was somewhat haunting to Becky.

To be continued...

A/N:

Freen Sarocha  & Becky Armstrong

Pranita Utaichalurm& Emily Emblem/Natcha Pongsiri

Araya Alberta Hargate

Taran Dasha