Pastel green was a shitty color. No matter what Feng-Shui bullshit you might have heard about calming atmospheres and fresh grass; pastel green would never be a good color. It didn't look like grass. It didn't look like rolling hills. It looked like being inside a crayon, or trapped in some weird twisted cat in the hat version of the universe. It didn't look right on walls, which didn't help at all as Max already found sitting in the office at his most resent 'home for kids' unsettling enough as it was. He did not need bullshit wall paper that pealed around the edges adding to that particular mix.

"Max, I know this is going to seem harsh," Stacy Wells said with her overtly forced 'I'm on your side,' voice. "But we would prefer it if you didn't introduces yourself to the new foster parent coming in today."

"Oh wow, I wonder why." His sarcasm was as thick as the rims on her glasses.

"Well you see Max, the last few new carers you've interacted with-"

And he tuned out. Same song, same tune, blah blah blah. Some rattle about the fact he had put off the last four carers from ever fostering again, terrified a women to the point were she needed counseling after putting dead rats in all of her cupboards and on six separate occasions tried to hot wire foster parents' cars. He needed more experienced foster parents, ones who could deal with his 'special situation,' ones who could put up with a little shit like Max. Blah, fucking, blah.

"-So if you could just wait in your room we promise next Thursday a woman is coming in who is far more qualified to potentially take you in."

"Stacy, have I ever told you that I don't give a shit?"

"Well, um, yeas actually. On several-"

"I don't give a shit. However, this all sounds like some very dodgy work practice and rule bending. Come on Stacy, keeping a kid away from potential happiness? How's that gonna look to your supervisors?"

Stacy pulled off her glasses with a groan. Sharp elbows pressed into the table she leaned towards Max.

"Come on Stacy, do we really need to do this same song and dance every damn time."

"I'll do the usual hush deal, no more than that."

"Really? You wont budge a tiny bit higher? Even for your favorite little shit?"

Her hand clenched around the thick frames. A tick in her jaw. The papers crunching under her elbows. Oh yeah, he had this whole place under his thumb.

"One extra hour of TV a night, if your quiet and the other kids don't find out. The second anyone gets wind of this."

"I come crashing down. Yeah, yeah I know the drill. Just make sure this new loser doesn't wind up being a creep like the last one. I'm sick off kids come back more fucked up than when they left."

Max kicked his dirty boots alone the carpet as he left, flipping Stacy off at the door.

The social worker let her glasses fall limp in her hands. "Aren't we all."

The long gravel road crunched under David's feet as he pushed himself down the drive. He could do this. He was going to be great at this. But gosh darn it he was just so nervous!

But it would be fine. Probably. Almost certainly. If he could handle the kids at Camp Campbell he could handle almost anyone. But teenagers? Teenagers would be different. Harder. Especially ones who almost certainly came from very difficult backgrounds.

It not like he had to chose the teenager to foster. He'd been assured there were plenty of eager kids at Mabel Abby, which the exited screeches he could hear in the air confirmed, but he had no idea which one of them would warm up to him. Who at the care home would want to share his home? And if that person so happened to be a teenager, by golly he would step up to the plate!

Even if the concept scared him to bits.

He wrapped his knuckles against the old battered plastic door, after spotting the doorbell hanging off the wall by its wires, and was instantly greeted by the huge smiling grins of two almost identical girls.

"Hi David. We've heard all about you!" The tiny blonds chirped in unison. "Would you like to see our stamp collection?"

What little angles! David crouched down to their level with a smile as big as his naive nature, and stuck his hands out for hand shakes. Each hand was instantly grabbed and he went sprawling froward onto the hard wooden floor with a thunk. A flurry of giggles swirled around his head as the insanely strong girls loomed over him.

"Every time," the girl on the left smirked. David rolled onto his back and noticed the blonds weren't the only kids gathered in the hallway, he was surrounded by giggling children from every walk of life. He had to hold back a grin as the scene reminded him so much of camp.

That could have certainly gone better. But it could have gone worse.

"Girls!" a shrill screech echoed through the halls, the children all scattered in every direction, some vaulting over furniture, as a short women with large glasses came skidding into view. "Oh my. Oh my Goodness I am so sorry. You must be David. David Greenwood. Let me help you up. Oh my gosh."

David chuckled to himself as the woman scrambled to pull him to his feet, but being half his height, she acted as more of a handrail for David to pull himself up with.

"Ah, you don't have to worry about a few little scamps misbehaving around me, miss-?"

"Stacy," she laughed, swatting away at Davids jacket to get the dust off it before he realized exactly how dirty that floor had been. "Miss Stacy. I'm in charge here. Or at the very least I try to be." She grinned widely, looking David up and down with eyes only a slightly deranged single women in her thirties could possess.

"Oh I certainly know what that's like, I was a camp councilor for a good few years a while back. Being in charge was always a bit of a compromise with most of the campers."

"Yes, it was in your file. You really seem to have a," Stacy leaned in with a grin, "passion, for helping those less fortunate than yourself."

David's heels bumped loudly against the now closed door as he backed away. "Well of course! Helping kids at Camp was the best time of my whole life, even if most of them didn't really want me too."

With an approving nod, Stacy began turned heel and headed towards her office, expecting David to follow.

"You'll certainly find that here, I can promise that."

"So you been band from meeting a potential parent again then shorty ?"

"Piss off Carry."

"Yeah but like, isn't this like the third foster pratt you've been told to avoid."

"Just proves I'm doing a better job of breaking mine down than you are loser," Max snorted, not bothering to kick the older girl out of his room. She was twice his size, but with half his brains.

"My last foster parent wound up in hospital!"

"Because they got into a car crash while you were at school. Stop trying to get people to believe you have any semblance of power Carry. It's sad."

"What's sad is your dumb bear."

"Fuck off Carry. Just fuck, right, off."

Carry groaned, but didn't shift from the door. In fact, she looked kind of pissed.

"Unless you can't?" Max commented, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Leave it nerd."

"Your been put on guard duty haven't you. You have to make sure I don't leave this room and screw up another foster parent that one of you precious fuck-tards could be using. That's it isn't it?"

Carry shifted against the door frame and started picking bits of paint off the wall with her nails.

"Come on. What's Stacy got you with? She gonna take away your pudding rights? No T.V for a month? God, she is the most easy woman to play in the country and she's got you by your non-existent balls."

"You know what dork, I'll just do this the easy way then," Stacy growled, slamming the door. It wasn't hard to guess from the loud scrapping that she was blocking the door with sometime. Probably a bookcase or a chest of draws. Not that it mattered. She could have used Mister Hunnynuts and the door wouldn't have been opened. The home was shit, but it was better than getting stuck with some lame try hards who wanted him to 'open up.'

Nothing would make him open that door.

Nothing at all.

"Abed! Leave the man alone!" Stacy's voice pireced through the walls. "Scissors are for paper!"

God this guy was so screwed.

"Woah their little buddy!"

Wait... what?

"Is that how you really want to introduce yourself to a potential new friend!"

Holy shit what?

"Carry!" Max yelled bolting off his bed to the door and slaming his fists against the wood. "Carry get over here right fucking now."

"What do you want shit stain?"

"What the new guys name?"

"What? Why the hell do you care?"

"For fuck sake Carry if you tell me I'll give you all my pubbing cups for a week."

"Three weeks."

"Sure whatever, shitting hell what's his name?"

"That was easy," she mumbled under her breath. "I don't know. I think its David or something? Some lame camping guy. Happy loser. Was that worth all you damn pubbing cups? Hey loser? If your not even listening then why'd you give me all you pubbing cups, moron."

Max wasn't listening. He was trying to climb out of the window.