Read Online Nikki and her Teacher by Nikki Palmer - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Nikki Palmer
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was twelve, and I’d been through a long line of foster homes. Most had treated me decently. They gave me clothes to wear, put a roof over my head and gave me food to eat. Some had tried to build a bond with me, but truly, I didn’t want to build a bond with any of them. I had parents that I loved very much. They died. I don’t need more.
I let myself in the house and went straight up to my room, putting my books down before going downstairs to see if I could help Mrs. Richardson with any chores. I always did my best to help out in every way that I could. I hated being a burden.
I walked up behind her in the kitchen. Mrs. Richardson was a nice lady, short and plump, with gray hair and twinkly blue eyes. She had wanted to have a bunch of kids, but the fates had been against her. She only had one, and once he was out of the house, she started fostering. Now that Mr. Richardson had retired, they didn’t have the money to keep kids around once the payments dried up.
“Is there something I can help you with, Mrs. Richardson?” I asked, just like I’d asked every day since coming to live there.
Mrs. Richardson turned to smile at me. “Don’t you have studying to do? I know you have finals next week, dear.”
“I’m pretty much ready. I’ll do some studying, but I have time to help now.”
My little foster-brother, Nathaniel, was in his high chair spitting out the baby food that Mrs. Richardson was working so hard to feed him. I loved how funny he looked with the red gunk all over his face. He made me smile. Nathaniel was the best thing about living here.
My mom had been pregnant when she died. She and Dad were driving too fast on the way to the hospital to have the baby. They were hit by a drunk driver and Dad couldn’t swerve fast enough. All three of them died. Being around little boys probably should have made me sad, but it didn’t. I was always happy to pretend that they were my little brother and Mom and Dad were still alive.
Don’t get me wrong. I know which world is the real one. Sometimes I just liked to escape it.
Mrs. Richardson saw the look on my face and handed me Nathaniel’s spoon. She knew that I liked to help out with him when I could. I sat down in a chair across from his high chair and started shoveling in the spoon, making funny faces at him as I fed him.
Nathaniel had scars all over his hands. He was only nine months old and his dad had decided to “punish” him by holding his hands over an open flame. Nathaniel still had bandages all over his hands when they brought him home. He’d lived with the Richardsons for three months now. The burns had healed, but the scars would never be totally gone.
Nathaniel giggled as I made a particularly silly face that I knew he loved.
Mrs. Richardson worked at cleaning up the kitchen as I took over with Nathaniel. I quickly finished feeding him and changed his diaper, taking him into the living room to play with him.
As I watched him pulling up on the coffee table, I thought about what my babies would look like someday. Mine and Coach Meyers’s babies. I knew we’d be together someday. There was no doubt in my mind.
The next week flew by. I studied, and I aced my finals. I stopped in to tell Coach I loved him every day. I think he would have preferred I hadn’t done that last thing, but whatever. He needed to get used to me.
I graduated third in my class, which was exactly where I wanted to be. I wanted to graduate as high as I could without having to give a speech. I’d done it.
I found a job as soon as I graduated. I didn’t want to go away to college. It would be too far from Coach. I was going to stay here and go to the local community college. The only problem with that was there were no dorms. Sure, I got a free ride, but with nowhere to stay, I’d have to work my tail off for my living expenses if I didn’t want to drown in student loans.
My job was clerking for
I let myself in the house and went straight up to my room, putting my books down before going downstairs to see if I could help Mrs. Richardson with any chores. I always did my best to help out in every way that I could. I hated being a burden.
I walked up behind her in the kitchen. Mrs. Richardson was a nice lady, short and plump, with gray hair and twinkly blue eyes. She had wanted to have a bunch of kids, but the fates had been against her. She only had one, and once he was out of the house, she started fostering. Now that Mr. Richardson had retired, they didn’t have the money to keep kids around once the payments dried up.
“Is there something I can help you with, Mrs. Richardson?” I asked, just like I’d asked every day since coming to live there.
Mrs. Richardson turned to smile at me. “Don’t you have studying to do? I know you have finals next week, dear.”
“I’m pretty much ready. I’ll do some studying, but I have time to help now.”
My little foster-brother, Nathaniel, was in his high chair spitting out the baby food that Mrs. Richardson was working so hard to feed him. I loved how funny he looked with the red gunk all over his face. He made me smile. Nathaniel was the best thing about living here.
My mom had been pregnant when she died. She and Dad were driving too fast on the way to the hospital to have the baby. They were hit by a drunk driver and Dad couldn’t swerve fast enough. All three of them died. Being around little boys probably should have made me sad, but it didn’t. I was always happy to pretend that they were my little brother and Mom and Dad were still alive.
Don’t get me wrong. I know which world is the real one. Sometimes I just liked to escape it.
Mrs. Richardson saw the look on my face and handed me Nathaniel’s spoon. She knew that I liked to help out with him when I could. I sat down in a chair across from his high chair and started shoveling in the spoon, making funny faces at him as I fed him.
Nathaniel had scars all over his hands. He was only nine months old and his dad had decided to “punish” him by holding his hands over an open flame. Nathaniel still had bandages all over his hands when they brought him home. He’d lived with the Richardsons for three months now. The burns had healed, but the scars would never be totally gone.
Nathaniel giggled as I made a particularly silly face that I knew he loved.
Mrs. Richardson worked at cleaning up the kitchen as I took over with Nathaniel. I quickly finished feeding him and changed his diaper, taking him into the living room to play with him.
As I watched him pulling up on the coffee table, I thought about what my babies would look like someday. Mine and Coach Meyers’s babies. I knew we’d be together someday. There was no doubt in my mind.
The next week flew by. I studied, and I aced my finals. I stopped in to tell Coach I loved him every day. I think he would have preferred I hadn’t done that last thing, but whatever. He needed to get used to me.
I graduated third in my class, which was exactly where I wanted to be. I wanted to graduate as high as I could without having to give a speech. I’d done it.
I found a job as soon as I graduated. I didn’t want to go away to college. It would be too far from Coach. I was going to stay here and go to the local community college. The only problem with that was there were no dorms. Sure, I got a free ride, but with nowhere to stay, I’d have to work my tail off for my living expenses if I didn’t want to drown in student loans.
My job was clerking for
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