"Do you understand, Max?" The principal leaned forward in his chair, hands flat on the table, "We will not tolerate this kind of behaviour in my school. It is unacceptable."
Max refused to meet the old, fat, balding, bad-breathed man talking down to him. His arms were crossed tight across his chest in defiance, trying to ignore the rapid beat of his heart in his ribcage. At an earlier time in his life he might have prayed to Brahma, but he knew none of the divine deities were going to do anything for him. They hadn't before and they wouldn't now.
"Ms Austin deserves an apology. In writing," said Max's principal.
"Are you listening, Max?" And there was David, stupid fucking David. He didn't know why he was trying so hard, he was a lost cause, he was going to see that soon and send him back to the care home so he could get a better kid to foster instead. "Max?" pushed David again.
"Whatever." Max seethed through teeth, kicking at the carpet with his sneakers. They were new, and David had bought them for him last week when he'd caught him staring at them through a shop window.
He hated them, he wanted to unlace the strings and take them off, to throw them at David and make him take them back to the store. It made him feel like he owed David something, he never wanted to owe anyone anything, not anymore.
David sighed in and out in that horrible way when he was disappointed in him. "Max is just having a hard time adjusting is all, Mr Shawcross." said David to the principal, "He is sorry, he just has trouble expressing it, isn't that right, Max?"
Max peeked up at his caretaker.
Help me out, pleaded David's eyes, Just say 'I'm sorry' and we can go home.
Max almost apologised. Almost. "That's fucking gay."
"Max." David sounded exasperated, turning back to Mr Shawcross, who did not look impressed, "He didn't mean that he's just anxious."
"Shut up, David, stop saying shit you don't know," argued Max, squeezing his locked arms tighter. The hardest part was that David was right, he was anxious, he was lashing out because it was the only way he knew to express his upset, but he refused, absolutely refused to let David be right.
David opened his mouth to scold him but was cut off before he had the chance.
"I'm sorry, but I'm going ahead with the suspension, Max continues to behave completely against school policy. We do not tolerate this kind of behaviour." Mr Shawcross began to jot down a note to fill out the required paperwork later on, "He'll have his schoolwork sent to him daily via his student email, and we will be putting him on a peer referral program once he returns to school on Monday."
David forced a smile. "We understand. We'll have a proper talk about this when we get home. I'm sorry about his behaviour." he gave a look in Max's direction, "Come on, Max."
Max got up, deliberately scraping his chair as loud as possible against the floor and stuffing his hands into his pockets. He treated his principal to a venomous glare before sulking off after David.
"Why couldn't you have just apologised, Max? That was all he wanted." David began to rant once they were outside, in the safety of the empty parking lot.
"That's bullshit, he wanted me to write a letter to her. The old bitch belongs in a nursing home," replied Max.
David unlocked the car and put a hand on his hip. "First off, that's a very mean thing to say, Max. Second, I think your teacher deserves a letter of apology after what you've done. And third, language."
"Fuck! You!" Max stamped his feet admittedly childishly, yelling up at David. He retreated into the back seat, slamming the car door behind him.
David watched him go, closing his eyes and letting the bubbling frustration inside calm to a simmer. He pictured open forest land, rocky mountains, the clear blue of a free running river, and rapidly the lingering frustration was released.
Max watched from his seat as David got into the station wagon, clicking his seatbelt into place. "You gonna put on your seatbelt?" he requested, looking at him in the rearview mirror.
Max begrudgingly pulled on his seatbelt, knowing from past experience David wasn't going to drive anywhere until he did. He kicked at his backpack at his feet, glaring out the window. He put his hands back in his pockets.
The silence they drove in was interrupted every so often by the click of the wagon's indicator. Max watched David's hands on the steering wheel. David drove like he did everything else; like a massive fucking nerd. David kept his ten-two position, kept to the speed limit, always stopping to let people pull out of junctions or for pedestrians to cross the road. It was sickening.
"Are you gonna tell me why you smashed your teacher's cat now?" David asked, failing to be nonchalant.
"It was a stupid cat," grumbled Max, avoiding eye contact.
David stopped at a red light. "I think it would be nice to buy her a new one to go with your apology letter. We should go shopping at the weekend."
Max didn't reply.
"I'm thinking about mac and cheese for dinner, what about you?"
Max answered, "Don't care."
David confused Max. He'd been living with him for almost an entire month now, and the man had yet to raise his voice louder than a few stern words. In fact, the more in trouble Max was, the quieter David's voice would become. It infuriated him. The only way Max knew how to feel in control of adults was to get a rise out of them, and David made it impossible.
They got home- no, to David's house, and Max proceeded to kick off his shoes in the direction of the shoe rack before he disappeared upstairs.
David sighed, picking up Max's discarded sneakers and setting them neatly on the rack. He was taking them off at the door now, that was some progress at least. He left Max to cool off in his room, reaching for the landline to call up work and explain he wouldn't be in for the rest of the day.
It didn't make sense to him, Max had his outbursts but he'd never broken something in anger, not with an intentional malice like he'd supposedly destroyed that poor woman's cat ornament. It just didn't feel right to David.
David decided if he was at home he might as well be productive. He looked up a few wild bird treat recipes on his phone, getting to work in the kitchen. It was winter, and birds always struggled to find food this time of year, so he might as well give them a helping hand.
Max tried to stay in his room but was soon bored to tears. One of David's stupid rules was no electronics were allowed to be kept in his upstairs, which meant everything was kept away in a cupboard in the living room.
The child groaned, face down on his bed. He tipped out his backpack onto the floor, his lunch, pencil case and school books falling out. He wiggling the bag a little harder and a novel fell out too. It was called The Last Wild, a book by Piers Torday. The story was about some asshole called Kester and how he could talk to animals like Doctor-fucking-Dolittle, trying to save them from this disease that was killing them all out. He'd laughed in David's face when he'd first recommended it to him, telling him books were for nerds.
Max picked it up, setting it on his bedside table to read later, leaving everything else on the floor.
He went back downstairs, walking into the kitchen to get a juice box from the fridge, not to see what David was doing. He didn't care what David was doing. David was annoying.
"Hey, Max." David greeted brightly like he'd completely forgotten the reason why Max was home in the first place. He was mixing together peanut butter, honey, seed and bits of dried up fruit in a bowl.
Max stabbed his straw into his apple juice, wandering up to the counter and pushing up onto his toes to peer at the different ingredients. His gaze caught on a bag of dried mealworms and he screwed up his nose. "Gross," said Max.
"Maybe to us, but birds love it," replied David.
Max took a long drink, unimpressed.
"You wanna help? If we stock up it should last us for the rest of winter."
"Birds should find their own food," said Max. Despite this, he dragged a chair from the kitchen table to stand on, rolling up his hoodie sleeves.
David was used to the sight of the cigarette burns, discreet on the skin of Max's tricep, but it still caused him a pang of anger. It was the location that always got him the most, the pain inflicted placed meticulously to ensure it wasn't to be seen.
They worked together for a few hours. David switched on the radio, and Max immediately changed to the station to something a little more bearable. David put everything into the fridge to set when they were finished and started to clean up so he could start on dinner.
Max hung about, but only because he didn't have anything better to do.
"We're getting some platypus' at work soon," commented David, "Doesn't Nikki like those? You should invite her and Neil over in the holidays and I can take you guys." David worked at a small wildlife park, his role mostly consisting of taking groups of kids around the site and running activities.
"Campbell's is lame." Max was harsh, every school in the tri-state area being treated to a field trip at Campbell's Wildlife Retreat at some point.
"Don't be a negative Nancy, Max, there's always something new and exciting happening!" gushed David, "Why, yesterday we even had a brand new trash bin installed near the play area."
"Wow, that's the most exciting thing I've ever heard!" Max was aggressively enthusiastic.
David grinned. "I know right! It's in the shape of a lion, you have to push open his mouth to drop the trash inside."
Max shot him down, smile dropping. "I was being sarcastic."
"And I wasn't." David was cheery. He turned on the stove, his back to Max as the kid rolled his eyes deeply and groaned.
Max chewed through pasta and melted cheese, most of David's chatter successfully washing over him. He was completely uninterested in the compost heap David was creating at the bottom of the garden, paying more attention to how good his dinner tasted in his mouth. Having a hot meal prepared for him at the end of every day was still in the stages of a novelty.
He had almost forgotten the bad mood the morning had put him in, that was, at least, until David brought it up again. He just had to go and ruin it. It was a typical stupid David move.
"You gonna tell me about what happened at school today now?" David set their empty bowls in the sink, twisting on the tap.
"Why are you asking stupid questions? You know what happened, Davey." Max was up out of his chair, suddenly anxious to be out of the room.
David looked over his shoulder. "Max-"
"I'm going for a shower," Max called back, already on the stairs.
Brushing his teeth, Max waited for the water to warm. A whole week off school; not bad for being framed of smashing his English teacher's favourite ornament. He felt dumb for feeling so bad. She shouldn't have had it on her desk to start with if it meant that much to her. Kids broke stuff.
After his shower he got changed into a clean pair of pyjamas, another novelty, 'Campbell's Wildlife Retreat' plastered over the front. He pulled his hoodie over the top of it, shaking out his hair and hoping David was going to finally leave the topics of school and suspensions and broken porcelain.
Max was met to his foster parent knitting on their used couch, half watching the National Geographic channel. He climbed up onto the couch cushions, settling the opposite end to David, keeping as much room between them as humanly possible.
"You wanna do some?" David gestured to the open hamper of knitting supplies, fastening a few more stitches.
Max shook his head, not in the mood. They watched hyenas scavenge in comfortable silence for a while. The show went to commercials and David began glancing a Max the way he did when he wanted to say something.
Max sighed in irritation. "What, David?"
"I don't think you did it." David's reply was instantons.
"I didn't." agreed Max, and immediately regretted. He cast his eyes down.
"So you didn't do it?" David paused his knitting, "Max, why didn't you say anything? Are you being bullied? Who broke it?"
Max jumped up, startling David, his hands balled into fists. "Why do you even care?!" he exploded.
"…Because I don't think you should take the blame for something you didn't do." David argued. He set aside his knitting needles.
"Stop pretending! Shut up!"
"Pretending?"
"Stop acting like you don't know! Pretending like you give a shit!"
"I'm not pretending anything, Max."
"Yes, you are!" Max's throat felt raw, his eyes burning, "You're just like all the fucking others! You pretend like you fucking care and then when you can't handle me anymore you'll send me back!"
David's eyes widened. This was not the direction he'd imagined Max was taking this. "Max, I'm not sending you anywhere," he reassured.
"You're lying!" Max was crying now, big globs of tears sliding down dark cheeks.
David had never seen him cry before. He reached out a gentle hand to touch Max's arm. "I'm not sending up anywhere," repeated David.
"You're a liar." Max sobbed, but he didn't push away David's hand.
"Max, why are you- I'm not giving up on you like that." David was insistent.
Max shook his head.
"Look at me," he wiped a few of Max's tears with a free hand, "I am not sending you anywhere. I am never giving up on you. I care about you. I promise."
Max's bottom lip wobbled and his tears ran faster. David pulled Max close and wrapped his arms around the child. To his surprise, Max climbed forward into his lap. He wrapped his little arms around his neck and pressed his face against David's shirt.
David let Max cry himself out, rocking him and rubbing against the back of his pyjama shirt. Dampness gathered at David's shoulder, muffled sobs by his ear.
Max eventually teetered off into slow breath and sniffles. David squeezed gently.
"Come on." David tried to pick Max up to take him to bed, but Max pulled away defiantly.
"I'm not a fucking baby, David, I can walk to bed." Max tried to sound spiteful, but it just came out tired, the child getting out of David's lap.
"Okay." he agreed. This was a massive step for Max to open up to David like this, so he let the attitude slide. It was obvious Max was embarrassed, trying to take back what had just happened.
Max sniffed and wiped his eyes, snatching a tissue from the box on the coffee table to blow his nose. He padded up the stairs, David close behind.
"Don't tell anyone about that or I'll kill you." Max threatened as he got under the covers, moving aside his teddy bear to make room.
David just smiled gently, tucking Max into bed and running a broad hand through his wild hair. "Good night, Max."
"Night." Max's glare softened, gripping the edge of his sheet, watching David stand and turn to the door.
David clicked off the light, leaving the door open a crack to let a sliver of light into Max's room after inferring he was scared of the dark when he'd first moved in with him.
Max felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest, getting settled and closing his eyes to sleep. He felt warm and safe, and even just the smell of the bedsheets David had bought him were becoming familiar and comforting to him, not that he'd ever admit it.
He guessed David wasn't that bad of a dad.