Thanks MyLadyDay and Vergina-spva for beta'ing :D
Chapter 3
"Happy birthday!" Izo couldn't help but smile as Thatch pulled him into a hug the moment he had set foot on the schoolyard.
He still wasn't fond of people touching him, but somehow, when Thatch did it, it was okay. In his enthusiasm, Thatch often expressed himself in a physical way.
"Thanks," Izo said smiling.
"Marco wishes you happy birthday too," Thatch continued. "Are you gonna treat the class?"
"Of course." Izo held up the basket he was holding. It was common for someone celebrating their birthday to treat the class, so Izo didn't want to raise suspicion about his home situation by not doing so.
Thatch grinned and tried to peek underneath the cloth that was over the basket, but Izo pulled the basket away. "You can see it with the rest of the class." It wasn't anything special, just cheap candy, but he didn't need Thatch to comment on that.
Thatch pouted a little, but soon, he started to grin again and said, "So, did you get any presents yet?"
"Not yet," Izo lied. Of course his father hadn't remembered his birthday; it was already a miracle if he remembered the day of the week. Izo hadn't gotten any presents in years.
Several years ago, when his dad had still been sober every once in a while, they had celebrated Izo's birthday. They had made a day out of it, by going to the zoo or the aquarium. Izo had fond memories of those days.
Thatch pursed his lips. "Are you gonna give a party then?"
"We don't have the money for that," Izo said. It wasn't a lie, but it also wasn't the entire reason.
"But you should have a party," Thatch said in a tone as if Izo had offended his family. "Everyone should have a birthday party with friends!"
"Well, it's not gonna happen," Izo said firmly.
He was never so glad that the school bell went.
Gently, Izo touched the tender skin around his eye as he looked in the mirror and winced. Usually, his father was careful not to leave marks anywhere that could be seen by the outside world, so Izo's face was usually safe. His father must have been really mad.
Well, Izo knew he had been. It was Izo's own fault for humming. He hadn't been able to help it.
During the break, Thatch had somehow been able to drum up half of the schoolyard, and even Marco had snuck off the big ground, to celebrate Izo's birthday. They had played games, and Izo had been king for the day.
After that, Izo hadn't been able to stop smiling, even during the rest of the day. However, when he had gotten home, he should have, so he wouldn't annoy his father, but he had been too happy.
Which resulted in a black eye.
It was a good thing it was Friday. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too noticeable on Monday.
Izo cast another look in the mirror and sighed.
Maybe he could use some of the money he had saved to buy himself a cake.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Izo looked up surprised. It was too late for the mailman to come, it was already after dinner.
Izo ran downstairs, because if he didn't hurry, his father would be angry again.
However, the moment he opened the door, he immediately regretted it. Thatch was standing on the doorstep, grinning broadly.
The smirk disappeared as soon as he saw Izo. "What happened to your eye?" he asked worriedly as he reached out.
Izo flinched back. "Nothing. I mean, obviously something," he hastened himself to say when Thatch looked at him sceptically. "I just ran into a door. I'm really stupid." He tried to laugh it off, but much to his horror, Thatch didn't seem to believe him.
"Who did it?" he asked sharply.
"No one. I told you." Izo pulled the door further shut. "What are you doing here anyway?" he changed the subject. "Did someone bring you?" He sure hoped not.
"I took the bus," Thatch said, sounding almost proud. But then his frown returned. "You're hiding something from me."
Izo remained silent for a moment. In the past two months, Thatch had become his best friend. Not that that was a difficult feature, as he was the only one trying and had seemingly decided Izo was worth the effort. Izo didn't want to lie to him, but he couldn't tell him the truth. "What are you doing here?" he finally asked.
"It's still your birthday, right? I brought you a gift." Thatch held out a rectangular flat package, wrapped in colourful wrapping paper, probably by Thatch's own hand. "Can I come in?"
"No!" Izo said quickly. "My dad's asleep." Again, not a lie.
Izo sat down on the bench next to the door, and Thatch followed his example.
"You really didn't have to," Izo said when Thatch pressed the gift into his hands.
"I wanted to," Thatch said with a grin. "Open it."
Izo did as he was told, slowly tearing the paper off. It had been so long since he had gotten a gift, he wanted to savour it.
He stared at the metal box in his hand. Thatch had bought him colouring pencils in every colour of the rainbow. "T-thank you," he stammered, unable to say anything else. He wrapped his arms around Thatch's neck, hugging him. He realised it was the first time he had initiated a hug.
Thatch held him tightly for a while, before he said softly, "Are you happy, Izo?"
"Of course I am," Izo said, pulling back. "The pencils are beautiful."
"I didn't mean that. I meant… here, with your dad."
"Of course I am." Izo stared at his toes.
"I wanna show you something." Thatch started to undo his shoelaces. He took off his shoe and sock, and showed Izo the bottom of his foot.
Confused, Izo looked at it. Thatch's foot was covered with small, reddish circles. "What are those?" he asked softly.
"From cigarettes," Thatch said. "My mom… She thought she would feel better if she wasn't the only one hurt, so she hurt me."
Izo swallowed hard to get rid of the lump in his throat. "What happened to her?" he whispered.
"I don't remember much, just that I tried to wake her one day, and she wouldn't. After that, I was taken to Pops, and no one ever hurt me again." He looked into Izo's eyes. "No one is allowed to hurt you."
With that, Izo broke. He wrapped his arms around Thatch and started sobbing, the box with pencils falling on the ground. Thatch held him until he calmed down.
Finally, Izo took a shaky breath and wiped away his tears. "Please don't tell anyone," he whispered.
Thatch didn't reply, only pulled him close again.
The doorbell rang, so Izo turned off the tap in the kitchen and hastened himself to the door. On the doorstep, three people Izo didn't know were standing, a woman and two men.
"Hi," the woman said in a friendly tone, "are you Izo?"
He nodded, confused that she knew his name.
"I'm Rouge, from Child Welfare," she introduced herself. "Is anyone else home?"
"My dad is," Izo said, still confused.
Rouge still smiled. "Is it okay for us to talk for a bit while my friends talk to your dad?"
He shrugged and stepped aside so the men could pass him.
"How about we talk here?" Rouge pointed at the bench next to the door Izo had sat on with Thatch a few days before.
He sat down next to her, still unsure what was happening.
"Is it just you and your dad living here?" Rouge asked.
Izo nodded.
"Which of you cooks?"
"I do," Izo said.
"Do you cook every day?"
"Not every day. Sometimes I order food."
"And which of you cleans the house? Or do you have someone to clean it for you?" Rouge continued.
"I clean," Izo said. He didn't like where Rouge's questions were going.
"How did you get that black eye, Izo?"
He remained silent.
"Did you get into a fight in school?" she pressed.
Izo shook his head.
"Did your dad hit you?"
He bit his lip, trying to stop himself from crying.
"Does he hit you a lot?" Rouge asked.
"Just when I'm bad or clumsy," Izo said hardly audible. "Or when he has a bad day. But he never usually hits me in the face!"
"Does your daddy drink?"
Izo nodded.
"A lot?"
He nodded again.
"Can I see your forearms, Izo?" she asked.
Slowly, he turned up his sleeves, showing fading and fresh bruises.
She sighed. "Izo, I want you to go to your room and pack everything that's important to you. You're going away for a while."
"Why?" Izo asked, frightened.
"Because your dad needs some time to learn how to be a good dad. A good dad doesn't hit you," she explained. "While he does that, you'll be taken to another home, where you won't be hurt, okay?"
Everything afterwards suddenly went very quick. Izo had tried to protest, tried to explain he had to stay, but before he knew it, his things were packed – with Rouge's help – and he was sitting in a car to be taken somewhere. His father had been angry and yelled at him. He had even tried to hit Izo, but the men who accompanied Rouge had stopped him.
Izo had no idea what to do, or what would happen to him. Rouge had explained he would stay in a foster home until his father was ready to take him back in, but despite the fact she was very nice, Izo was scared.
Rouge kept talking to him, probably to distract him, but it wasn't working very well.
Izo was brought to a large building where he was asked to wait. Fortunately, he had brought his drawing pad, so at least he had something to do.
After a while, a large man with blond hair and a white moustache approached him and took a seat next to him. "Hi, I'm Edward," he introduced himself in a friendly, albeit loud, tone, and held out his hand.
"I'm Izo," Izo said hesitantly and placed his much smaller hand into Edward's.
"Did you draw that?" Edward asked and pointed at Izo's drawing pad.
Izo nodded, slightly flushed as he closed the pad.
"It's very good. Do you want to become an artist?"
"I'm not sure," Izo said with a shrug. "I don't think I could."
"Why's that?"
Izo shrugged again. "It's not that good."
"I know very little people who can draw as well as you," Edward said firmly.
Izo looked at the floor. He wasn't used to people complimenting his drawings. His father thought it was a waste of time. Several of Izo's drawings had been torn up when Izo had shown them to him, so he never did anymore.
"I heard you were looking for a place to stay, Izo," Edward continued.
"Rouge says I'm not allowed to stay with my dad for a while," Izo said softly, his pad pressed against his chest.
"How would you like to stay with me for a while? I have several other children in my care."
Izo looked at him with large eyes. He wasn't sure what to say. He shouldn't go with strangers, should he?
"Izo!" a familiar voice suddenly called, and Thatch came running towards him with a smile on his face.
"Thatch, I told you to stay in the car," Edward said, though he didn't sound mad.
"I wanted to see Izo!" He turned to Izo. "Isn't this great? You can stay with us now!"
Slowly, it dawned upon Izo what exactly had happened. Thatch hadn't kept his secret. Thatch was the reason he was here, and not home with his dad, where he belonged.
"You did this?" he whispered.
"Yeah." Thatch actually looked proud. "He can't hurt you anymore, Izo."
Suddenly, it became too much for Izo. Tears started to stream down his cheeks. "What have you done?! You've ruined everything! I thought you were my friend!" he yelled at Thatch. "You betrayed me!"
"I wanted to help you," Thatch protested, clearly taken aback by Izo's yelling.
"You told them my secret! Now everyone knows!" Izo shoved Thatch in the chest. He wanted to hit him, too, but Edward interfered.
"Thatch, go wait in the car," he said.
Thatch, who looked pale, did as he was told.
Rouge entered the room again. "What happened?" She looked at Izo, who tried to get himself under control, and her face softened.
"I dun wanna go with him!" Izo sniffled. "I dun wanna live with Thatch! He's not my friend anymore!"
She sat down next to him. "I know this is all very difficult for you, but Mr Newgate has a room for you. We don't have any other foster homes available at such short notice. Just be brave for a little while, okay?"
She managed to persuade Izo to go with Edward in the end. Edward carried his bag and placed it in the van Izo had driven in several times before, when he went home with Thatch to play.
Thatch was in the front seat and looked around when Izo stepped inside, but Izo made it a point not to look at him.
They drove to the mansion in silence. Edward pointed Izo to his room and left him to unpack. Izo was glad everyone left him alone, especially Thatch. He had trusted Thatch with his secret, and now everyone knew.
Izo must have fallen asleep at some point, because a knock on the door woke him. He wasn't sure if he should say something. He wanted to be left alone.
"It's me, yoi," Marco's voice sounded from the other side of the door. "Do you want to have dinner with us?"
Izo could hear his stomach grumbling. He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. Still, he didn't want to see Thatch.
"You don't have to if you don't want to, yoi. We all know it's difficult to adjust," Marco continued. "I'll bring you something."
He heard footsteps leave, and Izo lay back on his bed. His bed. He had to admit, it was more comfortable than his bed at home. He had his own room here, with people who respected his privacy.
After a few minutes, there was again a knock on the door. "It's me again, yoi," Marco said. "Can I come in?"
Izo took a deep breath. "Yes," he finally called.
The door opened, and Marco came inside with a plate of steaming food.
Just the sight made Izo's mouth water.
"If you're allergic to anything, you should let Pops know as soon as possible, yoi," Marco said as he handed Izo the plate.
"Nuts," Izo said.
Marco nodded. "Then you can eat this." He turned to leave, but halted again. "Thatch feels really bad, yoi."
Izo swallowed his bite and huffed. "He told my secret."
"He did what he thought was best for you." Marco leaned against the wall. "We all come from different backgrounds. Pops has been taking care of me since I was a baby, and the others were all abandoned, or lost their parents in some other way. Thatch, however, knows what it's like to be abused."
Izo stared at the floor. "He showed me the marks," he whispered.
"He doesn't want anyone he cares about get hurt," Marco continued. "Wouldn't you have done the same if you knew he was hurt at home?"
Izo remained silent.
Marco pushed himself off the wall. "We're gonna play a board game in an hour or so, if you wanna join us. Just place your plate in the kitchen when you're done." With that, he left.
Izo finished his dinner, thinking about what Marco had said. He realised he could have been worse off than at Mr Newgate's house. He already knew he liked Thatch's siblings. Plus, they had a pool. It was like the sleepover Thatch had wanted.
Izo rose from the bed and started to decorate his room with the things he had brought. All the big furniture – bed, closet, bookcase and desk – where already present.
He was just placing his clothes in the closet, when a paper was slipped underneath his door.
Curiously, Izo walked over to the door and picked up the paper. On it, there was a crude drawing of what Izo thought was him and Thatch, holding hands. Above it was written 'I'm sorry'.
Izo let out a laugh despite himself.
"I worked really hard on that," Thatch's voice sounded. "Pops says you're really good at drawing even if you never showed me, but…" He was silent for a bit. "I'm sorry," he then said. "I didn't want you to be hurt, so I told Pops. I thought I did it right…"
Izo looked at the drawing again and smiled. Then, he opened the door. "Would you like to see my drawings?"
Izo was brusquely woken from his trip down memory lane, still sitting next to Thatch at the hospital. He couldn't have imagined it, could he? Was he that sleep deprived that his mind was playing tricks on him? Would his brain be that cruel?
Or did Thatch really just squeeze his hand?
