Chapter Text
The building in front of her loomed ominously as she wrapped the frayed sweater around her shivering body. She knew it was just a simple office building and the dread in the pit of her stomach was unreasonable, but she couldn't shake the feeling. She knew walking into those doors would put an end to the only world she had ever known, and she just didn't know how to accept that.
Her tattered sweater let the nipping air in, causing goose bumps to rise all over her body. She was lucky to even have the old well-worn sweater. As the temperatures dropped into freezing levels, she knew the poor excuse for protection would not be any help for much longer, but it was all she had. It had been her sole possession for two years now, she felt a strong protective urge over it.
It was a fading grey color, with a few buttons on the front. There were more when she originally got it, but as time went on they each started to fall off, leaving just three that were barely secured to the sweater still. She hugged the material around herself again, never bothering with the buttons knowing they would probably just fall off.
"Stupid cold," she muttered under her breath her voice hoarse and raspy from the lack of use. She wasn’t positive what month it was anymore, she had long since stopping paying attention to the date.
To her, each passing day meant one more day she had to struggle to survive and find food and a place to keep warm. As disheartening as it sounded, she sometimes wished that her days would just stop passing. She assumed from the snow on the ground it was well into winter, probably around December, but for all she knew it could be well after that. She didn’t remember seeing people celebrating the holidays yet, so maybe her guess was closer than she thought.
She could barely read the doorplate of the building from where she was standing, 'Arkardia Social Services'. Her eyesight got worse as every day passed. Lexa assumed she needed some type of corrective glasses but she'd never been tested for them. Social services seemed too official for her. She hated even the remote idea of social services. They had screwed her life over from day one, but here she was coming back to them once again with the hope of change.
Her slow methodical movements attempted to keep her brain occupied as she got closer and closer to the front door. The lettering finally got clear as she stepped up to the building. She counted the cracks in the cement walkway she passed over carefully avoiding each crack, a game she played in her head to distract her thoughts from coming in. Today, though, the distraction was useless, her thoughts bombarded her bringing with them numerous questions and doubts.
Inside her head she knew not to get too hopeful. Just yesterday she was sleeping on a cot at the women's shelter next to an older woman whose face was full of bruises and wandering the streets during the day trying to find some free food and any available warmth. She lived off other people's leftovers and could only hope for generosity and pity to get her through each night. Some days there was no food to be found and the food banks were too crowded to help her out. Some days she lived off water from public drinking fountains and nothing else.
The shelters were starting to turn her away at night. She had become too much of a familiar face and the shelters did not want regulars to develop routines of dependence on them. She wasn’t sure what would happen to her if she had to find shelter on the streets at night. She didn’t think she’d be able to survive with the dropping temperatures.
Her last hope for any kind of a future was standing less than fifty feet in front of her. She knew she had to go in there, and she prayed something good would come of it. The idea was suffocating her. Never before had she been so close to change and she just wasn't sure how to deal with it. She felt as though she was walking this path under water and her oxygen tank was just barely out of reach.
The building was nice; various desks were skewed about the area with workers manning their phones and computers. There were other kids that looked to be about her age sitting in front of the desks talking to the workers behind them. She noticed many large filing cabinets with workers searching through them on one side of the wall and the other wall was lined with separate offices with windows all covered by shades.
She was amazed that she had yet to receive any glares or disgusted looks from the workers inside. Normally once people realized she was in their presence they let her know that she was less than welcome. Today though, people didn't gawk at her appearance, nobody turned their face away quickly hoping she would take the hint. Maybe today was going to be different.
She observed all the names on the doors trying to remember the name she had heard yesterday. After a quick first inspection her heart sank, she didn't see the name anywhere. She looked again hoping she had not been made a fool of.
"Griffin," she whispered the name coming to her as her eyes landed on the last office before the door that she must have previously overlooked.
Nerves fluttered her stomach as she stepped up to the door and raised her hand to knock. It took her a moment to collect herself before she was able to knock her knuckles gently against the door.
"Come in," she heard a man answer from inside and she slowly turned the doorknob to enter the office. She was greeted by a middle aged man with a warm smile. His hair and face showed signs of aging but his overall demeanor hid anything else of the sort. The man held out his hand for her to shake but she hesitated staring at the man's hand. She was not use to adults, or anyone for that matter, showing her any signs of respect, even a simple gesture like a handshake.
He withdrew his hand observing her obvious hesitance, not wanting to make her any more uncomfortable then she might already be.
"Please have a seat," he directed her to a chair in front of his desk. "Would you like any coffee? Or maybe something to eat? We have bagels and muffins."
A simple head shake from the girl in front of him was her only response letting him know she was not interested.
"Ok, well, why don't we get some basic introductions out of the way, sound good?" he asked hoping for a more vocal response but once again he was met with a simple nod of her head. Use to these sort of actions, he continued on not missing a beat.
"My name is Jake Griffin, but please just call me Jake. I struggle with the idea of being old enough to be known as Mr. Griffin just yet. Anyway, I've lived in Arkardia for quite a few years now. I moved here from LA after my wife got promoted and was transferred to a local hospital. I have three kids who are around your age. My oldest daughter, Raven, is a freshman in college right over at Ark State studying engineering. She was adopted when she was two. She was taken away from her parents when they were arrested for drug possession and found her way into our home. I like to joke that she gets all her brains from me.
My son, Bellamy, was adopted into our family when he was eight years old. His dad had left his family when he was a baby and his mom passed away when he was seven. He came into my office one day looking for a new family and that’s exactly what he found. He's a senior at Arkadia High and plays on the football team.
The baby of the family, Clarke, is a junior at Arkadia and a very bright girl. We were always told we’d never be able to have children of our own, Clarke was our surprise baby. She’s on the soccer team and sings in the chorus," he explained knowing the more he shared about himself the more apt she would be to share information about herself. He handed her a family photograph he kept on his desk and continued with his introduction but her interest remained with the picture.
The Griffins looked like the perfect family. All of them were very beautiful in their own way. She could pick out the two children that didn’t quite resemble the parents but they still appeared like the fit perfectly. The photograph induced a very foreign feeling in her, jealousy. She was never one to feel jealous, she accepted that life had dealt her a really horrible hand and she moved on, no need to make herself feel worse by seeing how good some had it.
She was vaguely aware of Jake still talking to her about his previous jobs and his love for cooking but she could not drag her eyes away from the picture.
She was also beginning to think coming here was a big mistake. Clearly from all she's heard so far, Jake has had a very good life, and she just wasn't sure how he was going to be able to help her at all. She doubted he has ever been through anything close to what she has been through in her short life.
As she raised her eyes from the picture, she realized he had stopped talking and was looking at her with another warm smile and seemingly expecting something from her. Not one for many words, she just looked briefly again at the picture before handing it back to him.
"Why don't you just start with telling me your name, or maybe even why you came here today? Remember I'm here to help and anything you want to share will be helpful," he reassured.
"I-," she hesitated having not heard her voice out loud in quite a while. It was low and raspy, clearly showing how long it had been since she had spoken, "I don't know why I came here today exactly."
"Okay well, how about how you found out about me and my office?" he offered trying to coax some background information from her. He knew not to push a person like her too hard, he knew she’d revert back in on herself and any hope he had of getting through to her would be lost. This was definitely not the first troubled teenager he’d had in his office before, but the genuine sympathy and concern he felt for this young girl was something he hadn’t felt in close to ten years.
"One of the ladies at the shelter mentioned that you had helped her get back on her feet and I guess I just thought that-," she trailed off, not exactly sure what she had expected to happen. She felt stupid immediately, did she really expect to walk in here and have him hand her a new life? She was suddenly ready to run as far away from here as possible.
"I will do whatever I can to help you out," he told her still with the warm smile on his face sensing her discomfort. He wanted to get her talking again and quell the fear he could see on her face. "First of all, why don't we talk about why you're at the women's shelter?"
"I don't have anywhere else to sleep and it's been too cold to sleep outside," she answered simply, ashamed that it was the truth. After this confession she wrapped her arms tight around herself, ashamed of the tattered sweater she was wearing and hoping the action would hide it.
"Where is your family?" he asked knowing this girl most likely didn't have one. He had dealt with far too many young kids who were living on the streets after really horrible childhoods.
"I don't know. I’ve been in foster care since I was a baby and after bouncing around between families for 15 years, I just gave up on the system. I’ve lived on the streets for the last two years," she explained sharing more then she had expected she would.
"Legally, you can still be placed in a family for another year," he told her knowing that was not what she wanted. He had seen the system do some pretty horrible things to kids, he wasn't surprised she had given up on it.
"I'm tired of these families. All they ever want is the check from the government. They never care about me or actually taking care of my needs." After being placed in over twenty homes in the span of her fifteen years in foster care, the last thing she wanted was another temporary home with people who would never care.
Jake looked at the young girl in front of him. She was his youngest daughter's age, which made his heart ache. He just couldn't imagine any of his kids sitting in front of him today having gone through this. He really wanted to be able to something to help this girl out, but legally all he would be able to do is place her in a foster family.
It was apparent to him that she needed new clothes and probably hadn't ever had any sense of normalcy in her life. There was only one other time his heart ached so much for one of his clients and that young man now lives with him as a member of his family.
"When was the last time you had a good meal?" he asked knowing it had been awhile.
"I only had one family that ever cooked for me, but I was really young and they decided to have their own children, so it has been quite a while." She was heartbroken when a social worker came and took her away from that family. They were the only ones that ever showed affection to her or proved they cared about her. She never really understood why she had to leave the house, the social worker told her the family wanted to start having their own kids, but the answer never sat well with her.
"Well then get prepared for a great meal because tonight you'll be enjoying the fine foods of chef Griffin," he told her with a bright smile. Normally, he wouldn't bring a client back to his house, but this girl needed some structure and needed a good home cooked meal. He wanted her to meet his family and get the opportunity to sleep on a real bed in a house for a change.
He would make sure she got as much of the basic necessities as she would need and try to work with her to get into school. Based on what he had told her so far, Jake could assume Lexa hadn't been enrolled in school in quite a while. He wanted nothing more than to fix that. She would never stand a chance if she went on without any sort of education.
"I appreciate the offer Mr. Griffin," she started but was cut off before she could finish her refusal.
"I won't take no for an answer, and please call me Jake." His statement was final and even though she would never say it, it felt really good to not to have to worry about where she was going to find food for one night.
"Just one more thing before we go," she nodded for him to continue, "all this time and you never told me your name."
She looked at him quizzically, wondering why she had shared so much about her but left out something as simple as her name.
"It's Lexa."