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He stuffed his hands into his sweatshirt pocket and shivered lightly in the dark summer evening. A smooth breeze had been rolling all night, piercing through his cheap garments. Maybe he could steal Gwen’s card and buy himself a nice, thick sweatshirt, a fresh pair of shoes, and a nice pair of jeans. If only credit card purchases weren’t tracked, something he’d learned the hard way when he tried to buy his own phone using David’s card.
Secrets seemed to be the only concrete thing about his life. His classmates back at home didn’t know how bad his parents were, his friends – no, acquaintances , partners in crime at best – at camp didn’t know about Mr. Honeynuts, his parents didn’t know… about him, really. He was a vague image in their mind at best, a second thought at worst.
Fortunately or not, lying like this wasn’t something out of his comfort zone – it came easy at this points. His parents hadn’t shown up to Parents’ Day, which was something he knew would happen the second he heard of the event.
After David had seen his lack of an activity, the pity and sadness flooding his eyes, Max knew one thing: he wasn’t letting the man know. His thoughts immediately thronged with He’s not going to get into my life . He wasn’t letting David or Gwen screw up his carefully crafted relationship with his parents.
Maybe it wasn’t the best, he’d admit. Looking at Ered, he knew most people had much better parents. But it was something he knew well, a minefield he remembered the path through. Either way, he knew he’d rather die than go into foster care. ‘The system,’ as it was delightfully called, was something he was very well aware wasn’t a place he wanted to be. Especially not by the hands of some shitty camp counsellors who probably knew a dog at the shelter better than they knew him.
His feet hung over the edges of the docks, swinging back and forth while missing the water by several inches. Nights like these, filled with quiet and devoid of yelling from other campers, where it was just him and the outdoors, reminded him of how alone he was. There was a big difference between being lonely and being alone, both of which weren’t foreign to him. Some times he found tranquil in it. Others, he got defensive.
A plan had formed in his head after he’d told David yet another lie: that his parents were in some obscure, off-the-grid island for a business endeavour which is why they couldn’t make it or even send a message in. Cheap? Maybe. Unbelievable? Not entirely. Luckily, David seemed to have as much IQ as the amount of times Max had been told by his parents that they loved him, so he was sure it wouldn’t be seen through for a while.
There was only a few months of camp left, he was counting the days. He’d act normal, make as much money as he could on the way by doing favours or swiping cash from Gwen, David, Campbell, and the QM, make sure he looked like his parents were just a little absent rather than completely neglectful, and when pick-up day came around, sneak out and buy himself a bus ticket back to his town. Cash couldn’t be traced, Campbell taught him.
Foolproof, right?
He hoped so.
David was never one to pry. He was taught that no meant no, and he knew if someone didn’t want to talk about something, pressing wouldn’t do anything but make them not want to speak to you.
But Max, like nearly everything else about the boy, was a special case. Oddly, he’d always shied away from personal questions, like other people knowing where he went to school or his full name would spell certain death.
David saw him as a challenge, just a tough cookie to crack, which is why he’d been so worried when Max actually opened up to him. The night of Parents’ Day had come and gone in a stressful blur, but he remembered how Max had been so abrasive and angry the entire time, which wasn’t uncommon at all, though it felt… different.
And then he’d spilled it to David. His parents were, if David remembered correctly, two rich entrepreneurs who were on a business trip that required them to do business but not bring a phone capable of sending a message to a dingy little cheap camp where they’d dropped their son.
He wasn’t the greatest at math, but he knew when things didn’t add up. Perhaps he would’ve believed the absurd story if it was someone else, but if Max were to really open up to him, he was sure it would be a small drop of important information immediately followed up by a ‘You didn’t hear that!’ and harsh glare. The way he’d said it, his personality… none of it made sense when he put it together, like two pieces of a puzzle from different boxes.
He always thought the best outdoors. His brain felt clearer and freer, the pure oxygen crisper than the stuffy air of his cabin. After failing to sleep, thoughts cluttering his brain like hurried passengers at a Manila railway station, he relented to taking a walk. Careful not to wake Gwen, he crept out of his bed, slipped on his shoes, and ambled along Lake Lilac’s edge.
It didn’t take him long to walk past the dock, where he saw a familiar small silhouette. Max’s hunched shoulders tensed and his head shot up when he heard David’s footsteps behind him.
“Why are you out here so late?” David asked, his hands on his hips. His cheery tone tried to break through his tired words.
“None of your fuckin’ business, David,” he muttered, brows furrowing as he turned his head to the right and stared at the posts of the dock.
“Seeing as I’m your counsellor,” David said, sitting down next to the boy on the dock gingerly, “it is.”
“Go away,” he spat simply. His head turned to the size and he avoided eye contact. He wasn’t planning on anyone coming out, which he could’ve handled, but him ? Christ, this would be a load of work, he was sure.
“Max, would you be okay with being honest with me?” David asked softly.
God, Max hated that. How adults — especially David — looked at him when they were worried. Like he was a kicked puppy, a street rat. He was Max, for God’s sake! He didn’t need pity!
“No,” he responded immediately. “Fuck off.”
David let out a sigh. He let his eyes slip from Max’s angry face to the smooth, dark rippling water of Lake Lilac, a sight that brought nothing but comfort to his nostalgic heart. “I would never accuse you of lying, Max, but… it feels like your story about your parents was… inflated.”
He knew he was skating on thin ice, making such a claim. Max was irascible on a good day about anything personal, and he only grew more irritable the longer he was away from sleep or coffee. Despite it, David couldn’t shake the feeling that it was worth overstepping Max’s boundaries this one time.
Max sat stiffly, eyes cast downwards as he picked at a loose thread on his hoodie’s pocket. His usual mask of anger and sarcasm threatened to slip, the counsellor could tell.
"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to," David added. "But if you need anybody to talk to, I’m all ears.”
“Whatever,” was Max’s immediate response, but the sneer behind it felt artificial.
The two fell into a silence for a while as Max mulled over his options. He could tell David, couldn’t he? Adults were always out to get him, but David probably still stuck forks in outlets, so he couldn’t be that dangerous. To his credit, the man wasn’t a prier like the other kids. If he was told to stop bugging someone, he would stop for a good while.
Then again, legally, wouldn’t David have to tell someone? If his parents were found neglectful, he had nowhere to go. His parents had no siblings, all of his grandparents lived in India. There wasn’t a place he could go without completely uprooting his life, and he wasn’t going to admit he liked camp, but it was much better than being with his parents or in some shitty reject foster home.
Plus, his situation wasn’t that bad. He’d made it work for his life, what was another eight years until he could move out? A sigh escaped from his mouth. He was ten. Why did he have to worry about shit like this? For the first – and last, he was sure – time, he wished he was like someone else. Ered, Neil, or, God forbid, Nerris. Someone whose parents were at the back of their mind, only a worry when they forgot to clean their room or do their homework.
David cast a soft glance at Max. “It can be hard to talk about something that’s bugging you,” he said. “If you don’t want to talk, that’s all right. But if you do, you can. I wouldn’t judge you. Promise.”
Slowly, Max turned his head to look at David – his stupid, cheery smile no matter the occasion, his mint eyes that never seemed to be sad or tired. It felt too easy, too inviting. Was it a trick? An elaborate ruse to find his parents guilty for a crime he never knew they committed? After all, he was almost entirely sure Ered was put into camp so her dads could catch Campbell red-handed.
All it boiled down to: was it worth the risk? Could he handle, if it came to it, being chucked into a crappy foster home where he’d bounce from house to house for years? Maybe he was overthinking it, maybe David just wanted to help and nothing bad would happen. But isn’t that he would want Max to think? What if he thought he was two steps ahead while David was ten? Was that outrageous thinking? The way he’d just let Daniel into the camp arrived into Max’s head like a bullet to a dummy. Was he safe –
“Max? Max, hey, buddy, can you breathe with me?” David asked, ripping the boy from his thoughts.
He was so lost in his head that it felt like he’d detached from his body. He felt like a spectator watching a movie. His breathing was far more erratic than normal, his small hands trembling under the thin protective sleeves of his hoodie. “God, I’m – no, you’re –”
David didn’t need to think. He’d helped Gwen through enough anxiety to have a general idea of what to do, and it wasn’t like Max was the only kid at camp who found themselves in a pickle. “Focus on your lungs. In, out, in, out.”
Max scooted to the side, bumping his shoulder against the thick wooden post of the dock. It grounded him ever so slightly, and he tuned everything out, focusing on his breathing. Like David said – God, was he listening to David ? – in, out. In, out. In, out.
“Good,” David soothed.
The quiet that followed was, this time, more calm than tense. David reached out a hand. “Max?”
He nearly flinched, but tried not to. It would only worry him more. Instead, he sighed. “Fine, David. I’ll ‘talk about my feelings,’” he jeered lightly, but a foreign feeling followed it: guilt. Take something seriously for once, Max .
The counsellor nodded, ready to talk only when it was appropriate.
“ Maybe ,” Max admitted, “the story about my parents was slightly fabricated.”
He was expecting an ‘I knew it,’ or a smug look, even though he knew how uncharacteristic that would be for David. All he received was an encouraging smile.
He continued. “They were just… busy. Probably. And couldn’t make it. But neither could Space Kid’s, so it’s not that big a deal. Everyone’s parents are a little, like, absent sometimes.”
David never had a look void of compassion or enthusiasm, which were always easy to brush off. But Max felt so… foreign under the look of sympathy from him, like a lab rat being watched.
David’s heart swelled. This wasn’t fair – Max was just a kid, a smart, funny one at that. One with a future ahead of him. His own father had been absent, but his mom made up for it tenfold. She was everything he could’ve been and more. To see a child robbed of that pained him. If he hadn’t cared about the law, he’d adopt Max right then and there. He knew better than to put a comforting hand on Max’s shoulder, so he slipped a small, warm smile. “Kiddo –”
“Shut it, David,” Max interrupted. He wasn’t going to let the man get sappy with him. “It’s not that big of a deal. So what my mom isn’t home some nights? Neither is Neil’s, and he’s allr – oh, fuck, I just compared myself to Neil. I’m gonna shoot myself.”
“Hey,” he chided lightly. “You shouldn’t talk like that.”
“What are you even out here for?” Max snapped harshly, that familiar sharp snark flooding his tone again. “To chastise me? Why don’t you just go to bed and leave me alone?” With the last sentence, he buried his head in his crossed arms on top of his knees tucked to his chest. He would never let himself cry, but if he did somehow, David wasn’t going to see it.
It felt like every word from the boy’s mouth shattered David’s heart without giving it time to recover before another wave of sadness cracked it apart.. “I’m not trying to hurt you,,” he said softly. “It sucks. You’re so, so worthy of loving parents, but some just… can’t muster it in their hearts to be good ones. You deserve happiness , Max, and I’m sorry your parents can’t give that to you.”
That broke him. He’d cried before, of course, but never in front of anyone but his parents. Not in front of his school teachers when he’d broken his wrist, or in front of the other campers when every single person got a care package from their parents besides him. It was weak, he knew. He had an image to uphold, and sobbing simply wasn’t a part of it.
But his heart didn’t seem to care about his image. Thick hickups that built in his throat came out in rough sobs that were impossible to hold back. “D – damn it,” he sputtered, voice cracking along the way.
David hesitated for a moment. He’d expected something like Max’s earlier hyperventilating, not crying, but he couldn’t let that stop him from being a good counsellor. He scooted against the rough, splintery wood of the dock, letting Max lean against him. Knowing the boy, quiet hushes of, “It’s okay” wouldn’t do a thing. So he let his presence speak for himself, rubbing small circles into Max’s back as he let everything out.
“They’re just –” he shuddered out. Normally, he would’ve immediately dropped it, but something made him feel like David at least deserved a lick of the truth. “I – not a big deal, real – really, but they’re gone sometimes.”
“I’m sorry, kiddo,” David murmured. The quiet tranquil of the night at Lake Lilac seemed to comfort Max for the first time.
The dams truly broke and Max was lost in quiet sobs that were obvious attempts at being held back, but they bled through anyway. For what felt like hours but couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, he’d cry, catch his breath and seem to get better for half a minute, before losing control of his emotions.
Before David knew it, the young boy’d slumped against him, his weight feeling like nothing more than a breeze. He didn’t hesitate to gently scoop him up. Max deserved only the best tonight, he decided, so he carefully navigated his way to the counsellors cabin.
He gingerly shouldered the door open and shut it with his foot. After having been at camp for so long, he navigated the room perfectly in the dark, tucking Max into his own bed while he went to sit on his seat. Gwen stirred slightly but didn’t wake.
As the ambiance of the slightly ajar window blended with the steady whir of the fan and Max and Gwen’s even breathing, David’s eyelids grew heavy. He hoped Max would open up again and fully talk, but… they made a dent today, didn’t they? His mother always said the journey and the destination were equally important.
His final thought, I wish his mom could’ve given him advice like that , kept him awake for another minute until he drifted off.