On one of the cooler nights, Cameron took him to a part of the forest Damien had never been to. It was right next to the house but hidden enough that he’d never noticed it before. There, Cameron had revealed what the family called Jurassic Park, even though it had nothing to do with either dinosaurs or the era.
Damien had to stop a moment to catch his breath.
The area had been cleared of the trees indigenous to the forest but was filled with what seemed like every other type of plant. There seemed to be no order in the madness, a mixture of potted and soil plants, trees, bushes. There was a small tractor to one side, overrun by ivy, a series of cactus pots on its wheels. There were fruit trees and flowerbeds, coexisting as if by magic. A path wound its way through the man-made jungle, ending at a conservatory between it and the forest.
“I…what…” Damien was speechless.
“This is my little corner of the world. I have a bit of a green thumb,” Cameron said, turning his bear paws one way and another.
Damien looked from Cameron’s dark, calloused skin and back to the tangled garden.
“I heard you like plants too,” Cameron said. Damien looked up at Cameron’s face, nodding. “I’d love some help, if you would like to do some gardening with me.”
“But…this is your space,” Damien said. He understood about corners of the world you didn’t want to reveal. Cameron smiled.
“Yes, and I’d like to share it with you.”
Damien had to breathe through the urge to cry. “Yes, please,” he said quietly.
Life had turned into a dream.
Almost every evening, when the sun set into a cicada-filled night, he went up to Hakan’s room to spend the dark hours tucked away beside the other boy, reading and talking, sharing air, space.
One of those nights, as Damien dozed in that soft place just before sleep, he blinked open his eyes to see Hakan watching him. His face was serious, reserved.
“What’s wrong?” Damien slurred sleepily, the concern not quite breaching the fog around him. There was a pause. Hakan shifted closer. Damien could almost imagine his warmth.
“You’d tell me, right?” Hakan said quietly, as if he were sharing a secret. “You’d tell me, if you weren’t okay.” The quiet stretched between them, no less soft. Intimate.
“Yeah. I’d tell you,” Damien replied, knowing that there wouldn’t be the slightest change to his scent.
He closed his eyes, and the summer burned away.
**********
The new school year brought another change into Damien’s life in the shape of a new student.
Her name was Olivia, though she corrected the teacher with an expressionless “It’s Olive” on the first day. She was a year older than the rest of the class due to being held back the previous year. She was taller than most of the boys, with sharp, cold features and penetrating green eyes. Her hair was cut short and she looked like a creature of the darkest parts of the forest.
It was only three days into the semester when Damien heard Olive snap at the teacher.
“I don’t have parents. They’re foster carers. Don’t you read your fucking notes?”
She’d gotten a verbal warning for language tucked into an apology.
“Whatever,” Olive had replied, and then glared at Damien when she caught him staring.
Damien hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. He’d never met another foster kid outside Oak House, not that he’d been aware of. It was like finding another human in a zombie city.
It had taken him a week to find the courage to approach her. He’d walked towards her in the cafeteria, tray in hand.
“Can I sit here?” he asked. Olive had stared at him for a moment.
“Whatever,” she said. Maybe it was her catchphrase.
Damien had sat but remained silent, trying not to peek at her whilst he ate.
He sat with her every school day after that, devoid of conversation until the eighth day. Olive hadn’t looked away when Damien sat down. He stared back.
“Why are you sitting here?” she asked. Her tone wasn’t particularly confrontational, but her words made Damien shrink away slightly.
“I thought…you said I could.”
“Yeah, but why did you ask in the first place?”
“I…” He swallowed. “I heard you…I’m fostered too. I mean, I’m at a foster house now, but…yeah.” The words had just come out.
Olive had let the silence ring.
“So, what? You wanna make a club or something?” she asked sarcastically, but it had been devoid of real bite.
Damien shrugged. “It’s nice not to be alone,” he said truthfully. Being around werewolves which could sense the sweat and heartbeat and smell of a lie made a person honest.
Olive hadn’t replied. They’d eaten a while in silence.
“Trade you my apple for your Jell-O,” Olive said. Damien looked at her in surprise. Olive shrugged. “I don’t like the texture.”
Damien couldn’t help but smile when the trade was made.
Olive had almost smiled back.
**********
Damien knew the moment he stepped into Nicola’s car that she was dying to tell him something. That was where the social worker always loved to bring things up and she had the worst poker face that Damien had ever seen.
“I’ve got good news,” Nicola said, darting a look at him before refocusing on the road, her lips pressed to suppress a smile.
“Yeah?” Damien asked, cautious. Nicola paused dramatically.
“I’ve found you a new foster family!” she blurted.
Damien tensed instantly, jaw clenching painfully. For a second, he thought his breath would pile up in his throat, but he managed to calm himself before it escalated. “What? I don’t…Nicola, I don’t want a foster family. I’m fine where I am!”
“Well…Damien, Oak House was never meant to be permanent.”
“But I like it there! I don’t want to move,” Damien said. There was no way. There was no way.
“Well…hear me out,” Nicola said, the wind obviously taken from her sails, but barging on. “I think you’re gonna like this, okay?” She left another dramatic pause. Damien gritted his teeth. And then— “It’s the Salgados!”
Dead silence. Damien’s head went completely and utterly blank. The sentence would have made more sense to him if it had been in Chinese. She could have told him that his dad had come back from the dead and it would have been as easy to process.
“Damien…did you hear me?” Nicola asked, sounding tentative now. Damien couldn’t speak. Everything inside was horrifyingly still. All his muscles had tensed up like in the moment before a jump scare, before death.
“No,” he rasped out. The sound was like an echo from somewhere else, some deep cavern that held everything Damien wanted to hide. “No, no, Nicola please don’t do this. Don’t do this.” Damien panted, trying to breathe pleadings in, breathe them out, choking on them. The stillness inside suddenly cracked and everything was rushing forwards, falling, falling.
“What? Damien, but—I thought you liked the Salgados! I thought…we didn’t tell you because we wanted it to be a, a surprise. We thought—”
“No. No, no, I can’t, I can’t live with them, please.”
That old, rank water was filling his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. All the noise around him was getting distorted as it was drowned out by the rush of his blood, his thoughts. He clutched at his head.
How couldn’t she see? How was it not obvious? Every house Damien went into he was kicked out of, every one worse than the last. What was she expecting? Damien’s family was dead; he wasn’t going to get that. All that could happen was that they would see, see what Damien was really like. How he couldn’t do his homework sometimes and forgot to clean up after himself and broke things. How he could be silent some of the time, but then would talk a mile a minute, like he was retching all the words that had been pent up.
They would see his nightmares, would smell th
em off him, hear them in the middle of the night. And what did she think would happen then? Damien would get kicked out. They would return him to Oak House or worse, and God, how it would hurt.
Like a premonition his body clenched into itself, filled itself with acid, ate itself away. There would be no bracing for that hit. There would be no surviving it. He wouldn’t blame the Salgados. It would be him. But he couldn’t have it confirmed. Couldn’t look at their sad, apologetic faces as they said, “We just can’t do it anymore.”
Damien realized that Nicola had stopped the car on the side of the road when her hands were suddenly on his shoulders. There was a voice asking him to calm down, saying, “Okay, okay, okay.” Damien looked up, eyes dry, burning, wide, wild, pleading. Nicola looked shaken.
“Okay, Damien. Okay,” she was saying.
They breathed in silence until Damien calmed down.
“Have they…” Nicola said softly. “Have they done anything, Damien, has any of the Salgados done anything, anything that you didn’t like? Anything at all? Please, if—”
“No!” Damien shouted, suddenly realizing what she was asking. To compare the Salgados to the McKenzies—no.
“It’s not that. They’re…they’re great. They would, they would never…it’s not that,” he repeated. “They’re nice. But I can’t be part of their family. I just—can’t. It’s not how it works,” Damien said, breathing harshly again.
Nicola put a hand on his, calming him down. They sat there.
Even when the car rumbled to a start, the silence stretched for miles.
**********
Damien found himself in the forest. Since the conversation with Nicola a few hours ago, he had felt as if he couldn’t quite drag in a full breath, as if his lungs were decaying slowly. He didn’t really think about it, but the search for fresh air led him to the safety of the green. He walked through the dappled sunlight until he found a large tree surrounded by soft leaves, sitting at its base.
He closed his eyes, resting his head against the trunk. He let the sound of the forest seep in, filling his consciousness. The leaves murmuring to each other, the birds calling, the wind. He felt the slight damp underneath him, the earth.
He shredded the crunchier of the leaves with his fingers to keep them occupied. He tried not to think of anything, and when that didn’t work, tried to guide his thoughts towards nonconsequential things. The comic he was reading, the way Olive had laughed at one of Damien’s jokes today. But the conversation with Nicola would slip in, making Damien’s stomach clench.
It projected the same scenes in high definition. Damien trying to fit into the Salgado family, an obvious odd man out. The pain of pretending, of how stark the contrast would be between his nomad soul and their pack spirit. The way the unavoidable rejection would punch all the breath out of him.
Damien sat there, trapped in his ouroboros thoughts, only noticing the change of temperature and light that marked the passage of time when a sudden noise startled him, like something was barrelling through the forest towards him. He didn’t have time to panic before Hakan was suddenly there, an apparition. He was panting, which was worrying in and of itself. Before Damien could open his mouth in surprise, Hakan was by his side, clutching his arms.
“Are you, have you, have you—” Hakan cut himself off, wild eyes looking at him almost desperately, searching all over Damien’s body.
“What is it? What’s happened?” Damien asked urgently. Hakan didn’t reply, instead taking a deep sniff. He relaxed slightly, although his hands still clenched around Damien’s forearms. He looked at Damien eyes, intent.
“You haven’t…taken anything. Have you?” Hakan asked. It took a moment for the question to fully process. Embarrassment burned through Damien, and he shoved Hakan away, who barely moved but removed his hands from Damien. Damn him for his werewolf strength.
“What the hell! No, jeez!” Damien said.
Hakan frowned. “Damien, you’ve been gone for hours! You won’t answer your phone! Fuck, you can’t just—run off like this.”
Damien bristled defensively, but his insides tensed with guilt. They scowled at each other for a moment before Damien capitulated, the guilt winning out over his indignation. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I-I didn’t even realize. I put my phone on silent for school and never…” He took it out of his pocket and blanched as the screen unlocked. Thirty-two missed calls.
“Shit,” he said, calling the foster home and quickly explaining whilst Hakan typed on his phone, no doubt to Mia. Damien looked at Hakan guiltily when they were both done. “Sorry,” Damien said again, more sincerely this time.
Hakan sighed. “It’s okay. I mean, please don’t do that again, but…” He trailed off, looking down. Slowly, softly, he raised his fingers and pressed them slightly against the back of Damien’s hand.
They stayed there for a moment in the silence of the forest before the touch was broken. Hakan settled beside Damien with another sigh.
“We should probably go back,” Hakan said.
“Yeah. They’re expecting me.” Damien chewed nervously at his lip. Neither of them moved.
“Did something happen?” Hakan asked quietly.
“Not really,” Damien mumbled, grabbing another leaf to shred. He saw Hakan turn his head towards him from the corner of his eye.
“Damien…” Hakan said. Damien sighed, trying to hold the news in, but now that the opportunity to rant about it had presented itself he could hardly hold back.
“Your parents want to foster me!” he burst out, an almost physical relief. The idea sounded even more ridiculous from his own lips.
Hakan froze, staring at Damien before frowning slightly. Both pain and relief at Hakan being on the same page hit Damien. But then, “You don’t want to live with us.” Hakan’s voice was small and, Damien realized, hurt.
“Don’t say it like that,” Damien spluttered. “Obviously, I mean, obviously I—” he choked on the phrase love you guys, even said casually. “Obviously you guys are great. But it just, it can’t happen!”
“Why?” Hakan asked.
Damien stared at him incredulously, his whole body shifting sideways so that his shoulder was pressing against the tree. “You know why.”
“No, Damien, I don’t. You can talk a lot sometimes, but I never know what you’re thinking,” Hakan said, frowning at him.
Damien opened his mouth, a disbelieving chunk of air coming out. How could that be true? Damien felt like he was barely able to keep his thoughts contained somewhere safe. “Hakan, come on. Just, come on, dude.”
Hakan frowned harder. Damien put his head in his hands in frustration. There was a moment of tense silence before Damien jerked up suddenly, alight with an idea.
“You can help me!” he said, grinning at Hakan.
“Help you with what?” he asked cautiously.
“Help me explain to your mom why I can’t go live with you guys,” Damien said.
Hakan closed his eyes for a moment, sighing. “Okay…how about you tell me why you can’t come, and I’ll tell Mom,” Hakan suggested.
Damien nodded. At least Hakan was going to be helpful. Damien searched for a way to express the obviousness of it all before another idea hit him. “Okay. You know how you never talk to me in school? Just tell her why,” Damien said brightly.
Hakan stared at him. “I don’t…what are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on, you know! I mean, obviously we don’t run in the same ‘circles’, so it’s not like we would ever hang out in school or whatever, but it’s like how you talk to Koko or eat with her sometimes or whatever but, you know, you’d never do that with me cause I’m, like, you know,” he waved his hand up and down, signalling his whole self, “a spaz.”
Hakan looked at him blankly, like he had never seen Damien before.
“You. Are not. A spaz,” Hakan said forcefully.
Damien leaned away slightly before rolling his eyes and sighing explosively. “Oh my God…call it whatever. The po
int is, can’t you just explain it to your mom in your own words?” Silence fell. Damien watched Hakan lean fully against the tree trunk, staring at his hands cradled in his lap.
“I’m sorry,” Hakan said quietly. Damien frowned.
“For…? What?”
“I didn’t even think. I mean, yeah, I guess, before you met Olive I didn’t really see you with anyone and you didn’t mention anybody but you just…I don’t know. You seem in your own world, I didn’t even think and you never…why didn’t you tell me it bothered you?”
“Um, ’cause it doesn’t?” Damien said truthfully.
Hakan turned his head to look at Damien, frowning. “I don’t care what people say.”
“Well, you should. Being hated by everybody sucks,” Damien scoffed.
Hakan just looked at him. Damien sighed, turning away slightly so his back was against the tree again.
“We were talking about how to tell your mom, remember?” Damien said. A long silence followed, Damien caught up in his own thoughts before Hakan broke it.
“Why don’t you just give it a trial run. Just…a few months. Until the New Year or something. You’ll be in control, it won’t be…you don’t have to be scared,” Hakan said, his voice cautious.
“I’m not scared,” Damien muttered, fear gripping him.
He let Hakan’s suggestion seep into him. The idea took form far too quickly to come only from Hakan. It was a shape and weight Damien had imagined before, in places he didn’t dare look at. Places that always wanted more, even if it ended up killing him.
He could already feel himself losing the fight with something as simple as a nudge from Hakan. The truth was that Damien wanted a taste. He wanted—he couldn’t even think it in his own head, what the Salgados could offer. What it would be like, if only for a little while. It was too much. And, maybe, this way he could retain some semblance of control.
Damien blinked his eyes and, for a moment, the terrifying, beautiful image of him as part of the Salgado family was projected on the forest canopy. He closed his eyes.
In This Iron Ground (Natural Magic) Page 11
