A girl named Roxanne is an adopted girl who wants nothing but to grow up and find her own way through life, instead of having to face foster parent after foster parent. But instead of finding the way she she expected to have, she finds herself knocking on her father's front door ready to explain that he has a daughter.


1. Touch with your eyes, look with your hands.

     It's December 13 and here I am, sitting in a room I won't even have to see again. The dirty walls with fingerprints spread all over, the musty smell of cigarette smoke and sweat. I don't think it's something I would want to miss. I mean, two years of living in a place you are obligated to call "home" when in reality it's more like your death bed. Not even close to being missed. I'm just glad I am turning 16 in a week so I can get this over with.  I won't have to deal with families that basically despise me. 

  As I roll out of bed, I begin to hear muffled sounds of yelling. It's no surprise to me at all. It's very likely that's my foster dad, Jose shouting at his wife, Emilia. Poor lady, having to smell his alcohol-induced breath and hear his raspy voice yelling in Spanish every morning. She doesn't deserve to live with this dude. I have this growing theory that he is cheating on her with other woman. He is endlessly coming home, soaked in beer, drunken to the point where he can't talk right. And get this, it's always at five in the morning that he decides to come home. When everyone is supposedly "still asleep". I'm not though.  I have insomnia so I always hear his footsteps up the stairs. 

  I slip some clothes on and walk downstairs to the kitchen where I see Jose and Emilia sitting down drinking coffee. What happened to the yelling? 

  "Buenos Dias!" Emilia says. 

  I've never really understood what that meant, but I figured it was some sort of greeting. 

  "Hi Emilia," I mumble. I nod to Jose who's staring me down. The heck did I do? 

  "I thought I heard yelling," I say quietly. 

  Emilia laughs and shakes her head, "No mi hija, it's my soaps on TV."

  I nod slowly. I must be going crazy. 

  I walk towards the door, ready to leave to the library. I need a computer to print out some forms to get out of this foster care.  Turning the knob, I open the door and rush out. I breath in the icy, chilled air. I pull up the scarf around my neck up to my chin. The weatherman had one job and he couldn't say that it would be this cold? It's no use anyways. Nobody can do a perfect job...right? 

  Throughout 48th Street, where I live, people are bustling to and fro the buildings that surround me. I sit at the bus stop bench. A man wearing a 700$ suit(well that's what it looked like) is looking through his cellphone. I can't help but to shift my eyes over it, taking a closer glance of what he's doing. I mean, isn't it normal for a girl like me to be curious? 

  The man is on Twitter searching up a lady named Roxanne Lowe. What a coincidence that she has the same first name as me, isn't it? I can already tell this Roxanne Lowe girl is probably one of his lovers from high school. This man has looked through five different Twitter profiles and has not found the right girl he's looking for. 

  Okay, he's found her now. The girl has blonde hair, green eyes...Roxanne? Really? Her name should be Hillary or something. A blonde name, I guess. Her tweets are really random. Here I am looking over a guys phone, at some girls profile of Twitter, I don't even know, and it isn't even as important as I thought. 

  I shift a little closer to the guy. His cologne is strong. Then again, at least he didn't pour the whole bottle of Axe like the guys at my high school. The tweets are just really about what she is doing. For example, "eating breakfast with my man" or "Hun got me flowers". Man, you have no luck. She is in a relationship. Even Facebook can sum that up for you. Your not even that cu–

  The man turns his head to stare at me. His eyes are the same color of his hair- brown. He locks his phone and clears his throat. 

  "What do you think you're doing?"

  At this moment, I realize who he is. Not just any random guy either... it's Nicholas Hoult. 

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