I'm only one call away (wrong number)

Mackenzi's pov:

Another day, another hour long car journey, another foster home. My head falls forward and rests on the window of my social worker, Sarah's, car. She glances back at me in the rear view mirror, her choppy blonde bangs hanging in her eyes in a way that looks uncomfortable.

"This one will be better than the last one Maxi." I scoff and move my eyes to meet hers.

"You say that every time. You're never right." Her brown eyes snap away from my own first leaving me staring at my own reflection. It's truly a disgusting sight. My bottom lip split open in a painful way, the angry red handprint wrapping around my neck still visible against my pale complexion and the collage of blues, blacks and purples surrounding my left eye, complimenting each other in a unique blend of pain and punishment. My attention is pulled away from the mirror as my phone vibrates in my lap. I flip it over and my lock screen stares back at me, a single notification present.

???
Hello.

Tigger
Hey?
Wait why am I saved as Tigger?
Do you know Spider?

???
As a matter of fact I do.
Spider's my best friend.

Tigger
Oh, you the deaf one?

???
Gasp she spoke of me?

Tigger
Smirk so Spiders a girl.
Interesting.

???
Oh no. crap.
I'm not supposed to
tell you that.
Nat's gonna kill me!

Tigger
Nat?

???
Aww phone no!
She can't know that
you know okay?

Tigger
Nat who? ;)

???
I like you.
Any-way you can call
me Robin Hood

Tigger
Why Robin Hood?

Robin Hood
Because I like arrows...

Tigger
...
Logic.

Robin Hood
Well, it was nice meeting
you Tigger. I better go
before Spider finds me

Tigger
Bye. Make good choices!

Robin Hood has left the chat.

Well, Robin Hood seems weird. I wonder how him and Nat know each other? Does he work at SI as well?

"Are you ready Maxi?" Sarah's voice rips me out of my head and I turn to see we're parked outside of a 2 story house. My actions are second nature by now, no thought nor emotion goes into them. When most kids move foster houses, they hope for good ones. They hope for parents that will love them, they hope for a big room and siblings to play with. I did once. But not anymore. Now I hope that I will be given food, I hope that there's an actual bed for me to sleep on and I hope this one isn't as worse as the last.

"As I'll ever be." I murmur and my hands undo my seatbelt, pushing open the car door and swinging my legs over the side, jumping down onto the floor. Yes I have to jump. I'm small okay? The social worker is by my side in seconds, wrapping one of her dainty arms around my even smaller shoulders, squeezing encouragingly.

"It's gonna be okay. This couple have fostered for over 10 years. You'll be safe here." She tries to reassure me but is failing miserably. I shrug off her arm and sling my bag over my shoulder, wincing at the pain that courses through my midsection. Thank you bruised ribs.