Chapter 11

Foster wakes up to a face full of kitten fur. He picks up L and places him on his chest. He looks around the room for his phone. After locating it, he checks the time. It's seven in the morning on a Sunday. That's too early to be awake. He closes his eyes to go back to sleep. Then he remembers that L is not Cocoa and that this is not his bedroom. His heart begins racing.

He picks up L with one arm and starts to sit up. He struggles a bit. Something is weighing him down. It sure as hell can't be this two-pound baby cat. He sees Claudia, snoring away on top of him. His face turns bright red. It's too warm in here, he thinks to himself. He lays all the way back down and tries to calm himself down. He doesn't even remember falling asleep. 'When did C fall asleep? Why didn't anyone wake him up and kick him out? Is Mrs. Foster really okay with me sharing a bed with her daughter?' As all these thoughts race through his mind, none of them getting answered, he feels something tightly wrapped around his hand. C has her fingers interlaced with his and is squeezing with all the power of a newborn infant. His face heats up again. 'She is too cute for her own good.'

Just as Foster gets comfy again, L decides now is the perfect time to sit on Claudia's face. It is seven. That's like four hours past his breakfast time. Foster notices too late. Claudia is awake. 'That little traitor. I thought we were pals, bros, one may even say buds, what happened to the code man,' he argues with L inside his own head. Like that will do any good in this situation.

C stifles an oncoming yawn with her free hand and then sits up. Her long black curls fall all the way down to her back. Despite sleeping in such an awkward position, her hair still looks flawless. C turns her head to face Foster and he shuts his eyes quickly. He can't be caught staring at her. Definitely not when they slept together last night. C leans down close to Foster's face. She runs her fingers through his soft hair again. Foster is struggling to keep it together. He grits his teeth to prevent any sounds from exiting his mouth. Foster can feel her breath on his ear. It sends shivers down his spine, causing the hair on his arms and legs to stand up straight. C starts raking her nails gently against his scalp. She starts humming a bit and then quietly giggles.

"I know you're awake Foster," She sits up and takes her hands out of his hair. Foster sits up and covers his face in his hands.

"That was an evil trick C." She pats his head and then stands up. Stretching her arms up towards the ceiling and standing on her tippy toes. She heads over to her dresser and starts figuring out what she is going to wear for the day. She looks out the window to see what the weather is like. It's nice and sunny out.

"Well, aren't you going to get up sleepyhead? Now that your project is finished and you have your outfit for the presentation, you can show me around. I want to know all of your favorite places to go. I want to see what keeps people in this city." C settles on a light gray and black plaid skirt, some black fishnets, cute white socks with frilly edges, a black graphic tee, and some undergarments. "I'm going to take a shower and get ready first. If you want, you can head home and find clothes to wear, or you can just ask my mom. Surely there has to be some other stuff that'll fit you in this house."

C heads to the bathroom, outfit neatly folded in her arms. She turns to check on Foster. Foster is still stuck in a daze with his face in his hands. His ears are bright red. C turns back around and shuts the bathroom door, satisfied with the rise she was able to get out of the cute boy in her room.

Foster hears the water start running. This girl is killing him. He barely takes an interest in girls and now he has spent the night with one in her bed. This shouldn't bother him because he isn't new to the female anatomy but he is new to any sort of intimate behavior. 'She may be cute, but she is a devil,' he thinks before lifting his head from his hands.

Who knew that the sweet shy girl that he met a few days ago was dangerous? He was worried he was going to be the bad influence, maybe it's the other way around? He looks around the room again to take it all in. He didn't really look much yesterday because he was so focused on his paper and that sick shark coloring page. By the time he would have had a chance, C had passed out and so he didn't really have any opportunities to explore.

"If she's going to tease me like that, I'm going to have to work harder to uphold my 'bad boy' reputation," he whispers to L. L tilts his head at Foster and places his paw on Foster's forearm. "Oh, you are probably hungry aren't you. Well before I can work on my own plans, I should figure out clothes and find you something to eat." Foster carries L out of the room in search of Mrs. Foster.

Sylvia is in the kitchen, gathering all the ingredients she will need to make pancakes and bacon. Foster pokes his head out of the hallway and clears his throat to get her attention. He is still in shock from earlier and doesn't feel ready to form real sentences and have an actual conversation with another human being, let alone the mother of the girl he is attracted to.

"Foster! I'm glad you're up. I was just about to start breakfast. Did you need something?" Before Foster even has time to articulate his reply Sylvia realizes what he came out for. "Looking for some clothes for the day? I imagine C already told you her plans for the day and is going to drag you along with her." Foster nods, not wanting to leave a girl's house in the clothes he was wearing yesterday and with unkempt hair. That'd look suspicious, whether or not something had actually happened between them.

Sylvia heads to the closet in the hallway and Foster follows closely behind, still holding on to the Fluffy, gray-and-white goober. Sylvia opens the door and turns on the light so that Foster can take a look and see if anything looks good. The closet is a walk-in closet. It's filled from ceiling to floor with men's clothing. Foster walks over to a pile of neatly folded tees. He ends up finding a black band t-shirt for a band he loves and a nice pair of dark wash jeans to go with it. He turns to head out the door but Sylvia stops him and hands him a pair of socks and an unopened package of boxers before letting him go.

"Don't think I would make you wear dirty underwear. I wouldn't be able to go about my day wearing clothes that were only semi-clean. These were things I bought a long time ago for C's dad but I never had the chance to actually give them to him so I guess you can have them. I don't think C or I will be able to find a use for them. Foster takes the other garments and heads back into C's room.

Foster sets L on the ground and the small animal rushes over to his half-empty food bowls. Next to the food bowls, there is a tub of dry kibble and a box full of cans of wet food. Foster decides to give L some wet food. Maybe this will help win L over so that in the future, he can utilize their friendship to his advantage. L has no idea what any of that means, he is just excited about wet food.

After getting L set up with breakfast, Foster checks the time. It's only been ten minutes so he should have plenty of time to set up his plan to get back at C.

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C turns off the water and stands in front of the mirror. She wipes off some of the condensation with her hand to see herself better. C has never been a huge fan of her looks. Her hair is too scraggly. She is too short. Her thighs are a bit too chubby and her boobs are too small. Looking at all her imperfections weighs on her. How could such an ugly child come from her two beautiful parents? Why would they keep a kid like me?

A few tears of frustration start to form but she blinks them away and turns to grab a towel. Her hand makes contact with cold metal. There is no towel. Shit. In all her fake confidence and teasing, she forgot to grab a towel. She sucks up her pride and cracks open the door to see if Foster can help.

"Hey Foster?" As soon as her head peeks over the side of the door and those words leave her mouth, she is greeted by the sight of a half-naked hot guy on her bed. She shuts the bathroom door quicker than she ever has in her life. C slides down towards the floor and hides her face in her knees. What the hell is she supposed to do now?

Foster smirks. His plan seemed to work. Instead of changing into the clothes that Sylvia gave him, he took off his shirt and laid back down with a book that he picked from C's shelf. Foster isn't necessarily the most muscular guy, but he is 6'4" with broad shoulders and a muscular enough chest. He looks like a swimmer. He has the faint trace of abs that he got from all the dumb shit he did with his friends when he was young, 'Parkour.'

After laying back and basking in his glory, he realizes that C didn't actually leave the bathroom. Did she need something? Foster stands from the bed, grabs his shirt, and puts it back on before he walks over to the bathroom door. He gently knocks on the door, trying not to scare C. "C? Did you need something?"

"Oh yeah, like I'm going to fall for your trap you half-naked monster." Foster chuckles at her description before getting serious and trying to help her again.

"I'm wearing a shirt now C. You don't have to worry about my scary muscles any longer. But for real, did you need something?" he says sincerely.

"I need help. It's kind of stupid and I feel really dumb for forgetting such an important thing but can you do me a favor?"

"It's not stupid to need help. What can I do?"

"Do you think you could go into my dresser and find a towel? I keep my towels in one of the top drawers. In all my cockiness earlier, I missed something crucial." C sighs in relief now that the worst of it's over. It wasn't too bad. Luckily Foster is a good sport and didn't hold her earlier transgressions against her.

"Yeah, I can do that. No worries. I will be right back." Foster goes to the dresser and opens one of the top drawers. Not the towel drawer. He sucks in a deep breath, shuts that drawer, and opens the other drawer. He grabs a towel and knocks on the bathroom door again. "I have it. What's the game plan chief?" He asks.

"I am going to open the door. I need you to close your eyes. Like grab a pillow and cover your face. I'm trusting you here. The placement of my mirror is tragic and so there is no way for me to hide from you. You've just got to keep your eyes closed. After I open the door, just stick your arm straight out in front of you with the towel and I will snatch it and it's as simple as that."

"Alright. Seems easy enough." Foster grabs the throw blanket off of C's bed and covers himself in it like a ghost. It's just thick enough that he can't really see anything.

"I'm ready. You can open the door now." C opens the door, snatches the towel in record time, and shuts the door again.

"Thanks Foster. You're a real one." C says. Foster lays back down on the bed and waits for his turn in the bathroom. Such an eventful morning.