Page 36 of In This Iron Ground
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.
