There was a sense of time moving slowly as the afternoon shifted into evening, one he could feel as the single vein of light moved across the floor and withered away. When the moon was finally risen and the other kids were abed, Cayle still remained outside upon the hard wooden chair he’d chosen earlier, waiting.

“It’s time to come inside now, Cayle.” Anita sat down beside him in the softer weather-worn chair which was one of three in a set that sat upon the orphanage’s battered porch. The building required a lot of maintenance being that it had been built in the early fifties. Despite its look, the weathered frame withstood the cold and heat just as well as one could hope and housed all twenty one of the boys inside it. Wards of the state, all of them, some had disciplinary problems, some were eager to please and of course there were the kids who remained silent, the new ones. 

“Things like this just don’t fall into your lap, child.” She said it softly as her hand lifted to ruffle the tousled blond locks of her most familiar boy. He’d been here since he was a baby and throughout all of those fourteen years she had hoped that he would give the steady stream of couples a chance as he aged, yet no offer stuck and no friendly smile graced his face when the time arose to be led to into the den to meet his ‘new family’.

Frustrated,he grimaced when she spoke again and moved out from under the touch of her gentle hand to stand with his arms folded across his chest. Skinny as he was, Cayle was shooting upwards at an alarming rate. Anita had the fortunate chance to observe this and wonder if his rapidly growing body was starting to reflect the growth of his mind and the spirit within. He’d refused to begin the day with another polite apology, his behaviour with the Newton family was certainly proof of that. They'd shuffled in with happy faces and shuffled out again with confusion and resigned sadness in their eyes.

It was a moment later when he turned around to lean against the railing behind him with his arms still crossed defensively. “They don’t want me. They want the Cayle the Prom King and Captain of the Football team. They want the Cayle that goes to Harvard or Yale.” He paused when Anita's brows furrowed and her lips parted to speak.

Obviously, her opinion was one he valued. 

But before she could speak he rose a hand and literally unfurled. His eyes were alight with a passion that bespoke idyllic fantasy, a perfection that this child may not understand didn’t exactly exist. “So sue me for not wanting to be perfect for them. I’m not judging them on that alone and you know it.” His voice softened as he continued, though, because being harsh to Anita would only aggravate the situation further.

“I know, I know.. a lot of kids would be off in their expensive car, happy at the chance of having that kind of life and if that was me..” He shrugged. “I would have gone with them, but you and I both know that it wasn’t.” Even as her frown deepened, his forlorn smile grow and the opposing parties of this particular conversation had time enough to size one another up again before moving on to press whichever point they felt most important.

“So what are you going to do with yourself, child?” Anita asked, finally, after another easy and thoughtful silence between the pair. “Sit here and watch the world from behind your perfect glasses or finally take a chance on someone and believe that they can see you for who you are, rather than what they think you can become?” A parry with an answering shot, it fell below the belt and naturally he wished to double up and hide the pain of it from her, but he couldn’t.

Cayle smiled then as he sunk to the floor and rested his arms blithely upon jean clad knees. Ignoring her face, bright eyes concentrated upon the woman’s shoes rather than her face. They were far more expressionless than the prior and much more easily moulded to his ends, for they had no personality or mind to beat at him with the shock of fact and calculation. "I have a pretty good prescription right now," he joked.

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