Chapter Text
I stare out the window, my head pressed against the cool glass as I watch the trees, other cars and the occasional billboard pass by us. In the drivers’ seat next to me, my mom switches through the radio stations, eventually stopping on one that’s playing some pop song I don’t recognize. Other than the music, it’s quiet between us. We’ve been driving since five this morning and haven’t stopped in almost two hours. I’m so tired.
“Holding up okay, kiddo?” Mom asks, glancing over at me. I just shrug and yawn. “Only an hour left, we’ll be there soon.” She tells me, briefly looking down at the GPS before returning her gaze to the road. I somehow manage to hold back an annoyed groan. I’ve been stuck in this fucking car for hours, I want out.
As if sensing my restlessness, Mom’s quick to try and lighten the mood. “Cheer up, hon. We could be stuck in traffic right now, we’ve been making pretty good time.”
“I know.” I mutter, crossing my arms.
I still can’t believe it. Stuck in the car for almost nine goddamn hours just so we can move in with her asshole fiancé and I can get dumped into some shitty new school. What a load of bullshit.
“I’m still not happy about this, y’know.”
Mom sighs. “I know. But I really need you to give it a chance. Copper Cove’s a nice town, and from what I’ve read, the academy’s a great school. Stephen and I both think it’ll be good for you. It’s either this or juvenile detention, and I don’t think you want that.”
I roll my eyes. “Mom, I don’t like Stephen. Why should I give a shit what he thinks?”
“Don’t start with that, Damon.” Her voice is firm. “I know Stephen can be… gruff, but he’s a good man, and I really want you two to get along.”
Stephen Galloway, my soon-to-be stepdad. Ugh. Him and my mom have been together for a little over three years, and they got engaged a few months ago. He lives out in Copper Cove, some small town in Pennsylvania. It was a long-distance relationship, guess he and Mom met when she was visiting a friend who lives in the area. He’s come out to visit us a couple times before, and I really don’t get what she sees in him. Standoffish, stern, abrasive, all words that describe him perfectly. And he’s a cop, which is another red flag in my book.
“I know you’re upset, but you’re going to this school whether you want to or not. It’s your junior year, next year you’re graduating, and you need to start working on yourself and figuring out what you want to do with your life.” She starts going on a lecture, one that I’ve heard probably a thousand times by now. But I keep my mouth shut. I’ve endured it before, I can endure it again.
“I’ve put up with your behavior long enough, Damon. I could tolerate the smaller stuff, like you staying out late, but then you started skipping classes and getting into fights. And now you’re drinking and playing around with drugs?”
“Is it really that big of a deal, Mom?“ I ask, trying not to sound too defensive. “People drink at parties all the time, it’s not like I’m an alcoholic. And I only smoked weed, I’m not goin’ around snorting coke or whatever.”
Mom’s growing frustrated, I can tell by the way she’s gripping the steering wheel. “It doesn’t matter what it is. You’re sixteen, you’ve got absolutely no business doing any of it.” She pauses, and as we pull up to a traffic light, she turns to me.
“And need I remind you that the whole reason we’re moving is because you got expelled and almost arrested? That fight between you and that other boy, you could’ve died!”
She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself before she continues. “Although, I do think it’s unfair that you were the one to get expelled while he only got suspended for… what was it, a week?”
“I think so, yeah. Pretty sure his folks bribed the principal or the cops or whatever. Y’know, rich kid shit.” I reply bitterly, and Mom lets out a small hum. I turn to look at her.
“And I wasn’t the one who started it, you know that. Dawson was always starting shit, I was defending myself. Just wasn’t expecting him to pull a fucking knife on me.” I turn my gaze back to the window, reminiscing about that day.
Dawson was a big name around school. His family was rich, and to him, that meant he could be a total dick to everyone and get away with it. We’ve had bad blood for a long time, and while I’d gotten into fights with him before, none of them were as bad as that last one.
It was late May, finals had just finished and summer break was right around the corner. Dawson and some of his buddies came up to me as I was walking with my friend to our bus at dismissal. He was yelling something at us, I don’t remember what it was. Probably calling us fags, he did that a lot. Then we started shoving and swinging at each other. A crowd was forming around us, everyone’s yelling and cheering us on. I was so sure that I was gonna win.
That was when he pulled out a pocket knife.
I woke up in a hospital bed after that, I don’t remember what happened in-between. But I got a cool scar on my side, a little souvenir to remember that prick by. When I got released, me and Mom had to go to the police station. Dawson, his parents and the school principal were there too, and even though a bunch of people vouched for me and said Dawson started it and I was defending myself, I got expelled while he got off with only a suspension.
Moral of the story: rich people fucking suck.
The light turns green and as the car starts moving, Mom starts talking again. “I’m worried about you, that’s all. You almost got held back freshman year because of how many times you skipped, and now this? I see you slipping, Damon. I think a fresh start could be good for you. Even if you don’t think it’ll do anything now, I want you to promise me you’ll at least try. And that you’ll be nice to Stephen.”
She has a point, much as I don’t want to admit it. My old school was a total shithole, maybe a new one wouldn’t be too terrible. Definitely sounds better than getting locked away in a cell for god knows how long.
“Yeah, okay.” I finally mumble. New school, new town, I can try. Not going to promise I’ll become best buds with Stephen though, but saying that out loud will just piss Mom off.
I reach down and dig my headphones out of my backpack. Nothing good’s playing on the radio, I don’t want to spend the rest of the ride being forced to listen to it. “The Past Is Dead” by Beartooth starts playing and I turn up the volume as loud as I can handle to drown out my own thoughts.
~
I’m on the verge of dozing off when I feel the car stop. Rubbing my eyes, I pause my music and slip my headphones around my neck. “We’re here, kiddo.” Mom says as she shuts off the engine. We’ve made it to Stephen’s place. Woohoo.
I pull my backpack over my shoulders and get out of the car, stretching. Well, if I have to say one nice thing about that douche, his place doesn’t look like shit. And the rest of the neighborhood looks decent too.
Mom pops the trunk and I open the backseat door, grabbing the bags and boxes containing my stuff. Stephen had driven out to see us about a week ago and helped us start packing, he took some of our stuff with him when he left. It saved us from having to try and cram everything we own into Mom’s tiny car. Clothes, pictures, my consoles, and some other small stuff were all we had to bring with us.
As I’m helping Mom unload the boxes in the trunk, the front door opens and Stephen walks out, waving to us. Two dogs, a german shepherd and a chocolate labrador retriever, follow after him, barking at us. Oh, didn’t know he had dogs. Well, can’t complain about that, dogs are cool.
As he walks over, Mom smiles and kisses him. “Hi, darling.”
“Glad to see you, dear.” He smiles back at her, but when he turns to me, his expression hardens. “Damon.” He says curtly, holding out a hand for me to shake. I don’t really want to, but Mom’s giving me that look. Holding back a sigh, I shake his hand, keeping a blank face.
The dogs approach, sniffing at the boxes. I reach my hand down to try and pet the shepherd, but quickly back off when it lets out a low growl. Damn, okay, not friendly then. Stephen whistles sharply and the dog backs off, eyeing me warily. “Don’t mind Maverick, she’s old, not good with strangers.” Stephen tells me. Yeah, no shit. The lab is much friendlier, already licking my hand and wagging his tail so hard his whole body wiggles. ‘Ozzy’, his name tag reads. Cool name.
“So, how was the drive?” He changes the subject and grabs a box from the trunk.
“It was fine.” Mom tells him. “We hit some traffic coming through Ohio, but other than that, it was good.” She explains as the three of us start walking towards the house, the dogs following closely.
We follow Stephen into the living room and place the boxes down next to some others. The house is cleaner than I expected. There’s a few pictures hung up on the gray-blue walls, the furniture (a couch and two armchairs) arranged around the coffee table, the TV mounted above a wooden entertainment center. Not spotless, but not a total mess either.
“We can get all this unpacked later. Stephen, why don’t you show Damon his room so he can get settled?” Mom suggests, picking up a box that has my name scribbled on it in black marker.
“Right, follow me.” Stephen orders with a quick motion of his hand, not even waiting for a response as he leaves the room and heads upstairs.
“Here you go.” He opens a door at the end of the short hallway. I step inside, examining my new hideout. White walls, gray carpet, a dresser in the corner with a TV on top, a door that I’m assuming is the closet, a bed in the corner with a small nightstand next to it, a desk and a bookshelf next to it. It’s a little smaller than my room back home, but that’s fine, I don’t need a ton of space.
“Get yourself settled in, then come back down. We need to talk.” Stephen orders. For fuck’s sake, I just got here! What the hell is there to talk about?
Stephen leaves, his boots thudding down the stairs. Mom places the box at the foot of the bed and gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze, her silent way of saying ‘cheer up’. She heads downstairs, leaving me alone in the unfamiliar room. I don’t want to unpack. Unpacking means accepting this place as home, and I’m not ready for that. Plus, I’m still tired from the ride, I want to take a nap.
I sigh and head back downstairs to grab the rest of my stuff. Just got to get it done and over with. I know I’m not going to want to do it later if I don’t.
~
About an hour later, after some procrastination, I’ve gotten almost everything unpacked and set up. Clothes in the dresser and closet, my consoles (Xbox One and an old Xbox 360) hooked up to the TV and ready to be played, games, CDs and books arranged on the shelves. The only things left to do is get my posters and flags hung up and unpack all my stuff for school.
I huff and flop down onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. I don’t feel like hanging the posters yet, but I should probably get the school stuff unpacked. School starts in a week, and I already know Mom will nag me if I don’t have my shit ready.
“Oh god, school starts in a week.” I groan out loud. Copper Cove Academy. Wonder if it’ll actually be as good as Mom claims it is or if it’ll just be as much of a shithole as my old school. I’m not excited to find out.
I hear the door creak open and lift my head to see Ozzy pushing his way in. He hops up and lies down next to me, his tail thumping softly against the comforter. “Hey, big guy.” I murmur, scratching his ear. He just lets out a little grumble, his eyes half-closed as he leans into my hand.
“You gonna help me out, boy? Be my emotional support through this?” I ask. He doesn’t say anything, obviously, he just stares at me with his amber-colored eyes.
I look to the last of the boxes, then I look at my skateboard propped up against the dresser. Yeah, unpacking can wait. If I’m going to be stuck in this town, might as well explore and see what there is to do. I stand up and grab the board. As I’m pulling my shoes on, Ozzy’s ears perk up.
“Sorry bud, I’m not taking you out.” At the mention of the word ‘out’, his tail starts wagging and he gets off the bed, standing in front of the door. I dig through my backpack and pull out my pocket knife. It was a birthday gift from my uncle a few years ago, I’m almost always carrying it on me. New town means new chances to get in trouble, always good to be prepared. I slip it and my phone into my pockets, grab my headphones and head downstairs, Ozzy following closely behind.
I can hear Mom and Stephen’s voices in the kitchen and I slow down. I’m right by the front door, maybe if I’m quiet enough I can—
“We can hear you, Damon. Come in here.” Mom calls out. Goddamnit. I sigh and walk in to see Mom and Stephen sitting at the dinner table. I’m sure they’re expecting me to sit down with them, but I instead lean against the doorway and cross my arms, waiting for one of them to start talking.
“Your mother and I have already discussed this, but now that you’re living under my roof, there are some rulesI expect you to follow.” Stephen begins. Oh great, rules, should’ve seen that coming.
“For starters, you will not bring any sort of alcohol or drugs into this house. I have my ways of finding out if you do, and there will be consequences.” The first rule. Okay, saw that one coming. Not in the house, that’s not going to stop me from doing it somewhere else. And what the hell does he mean by ‘his ways’? He better not try to snoop through my stuff.
“I don’t care if you have friends over, but don’t try to sneak them into the house. If you’re having company, you need to tell one of us first. We need to know who’s coming and going.” The second rule. Alright, I can work with that one too, even though I’ve snuck my friends back home into my house all the time and nothing bad ever happened.
Mom chimes in with the next rule. “I know you’ll hate this one, but it’s something I should’ve done a long time ago. You have a curfew now, eleven on school nights and midnight on the weekend.”
Oh, you’re kidding me! A fucking curfew?!
I’m about to protest, but she quickly cuts me off. “Don’t argue with me, Damon. I’m doing this for your safety, I’m not putting up with you sneaking out anymore. And on that note, if you’re going out anywhere, you’ll tell us where you’re going and when you’ll be back. No more lying about where you’re going or staying out all night without calling. Do I make myself clear?”
She’s dead serious. No point trying to argue. I let out a defeated sigh. “Fine, whatever. I’m going now.”
“Where are you going?”
“I dunno. Skating and seeing what’s around. It’s a new place, I gotta go exploring.” I call over my shoulder as I walk back towards the door.
“Be back by five.”
“No promises.” I reply and head outside. It’s warm out today, perfect skating weather. Now, which way to go? I look down the left side of the road, then the right. Mom and I came from the left side and I didn’t see anything of interest when we were driving up, just some more houses. So right side, it is. I slip my headphones on, “Poem” by Taproot starts blasting as I get on my board, cruising along the sidewalk and down the road.
After passing by some more houses and making a few turns, I’ve made it into the town. Cool, didn’t take as long as I thought it would. I slow down a little to make it easier to look around. There’s a gas station up ahead with a sandwich shop next to it. I continue on, cruising by several small shops and restaurants packed together in brick buildings of varying sizes. There’s an auto shop, a library, a post office, a few fast-food places all close together. I pause at the end of the street to let a car pass, then continue forward. The buildings on my right end, replaced with a big lake. There’s a nice-looking diner across the street. ‘Lakeview Diner’, the neon red sign on the roof reads. Hm, maybe I’ll check it out at some point, see if it’s any good.
There’s nothing else really notable for the next few minutes. A few streets that lead to another neighborhood, another gas station, another auto shop, a pizza place, and a small grocery store. Typical small-town stuff. I come up to another stoplight and a little further ahead, I spot a sign pointing to a park. Okay, could be of interest.
The light turns red, I cross the street and make my way towards the entrance. I’m about halfway there when out of nowhere, a silver car comes speeding towards me, tires screeching against the pavement. I quickly jump out of the way and the car comes screeching to a loud halt just inches away from me.
The driver’s window rolls down. I pause the music and slide my headphones around my neck, ready to hear whatever this asshole has to say. There’s two guys in the car, one with ginger hair and the other with bleach-blond hair. Both of them look around my age.
“Yo, watch where you’re goin’, you fucking idiot!” The redhead guy, the driver, glares at me.
“The fuck you talking about? I’m still on the sidewalk, I’m not even close to the road!” I shout back, anger burning in my chest. “You just almost fucking hit me! The hell’s wrong with you?!”
The driver just scoffs and shakes his head. “Yeah, whatever, don’t get in my way again. Dumb fucking faggot.”
Just as he begins to speed off, I grab a rock from the side of the road and chuck it at his car. It strikes the back left tail light, putting a noticeable crack in the red plastic. I keep walking, feeling only a little less pissed. That son of a bitch almost runs me over and has the audacity to get mad at me? What a prick.
The park’s crowded, almost all of the parking spots are full. I dismount my board and start walking along the path. There’s a big playground, kids running around screaming and laughing while their parents watch to make sure they don’t get hurt. Tall trees stand around the area, the air feeling cooler under the shade they provide. Pretty nice park, way bigger than any of the ones back home.
I eventually come to a fork in the path. The field is more open here, and I can see a group of guys playing soccer up ahead. There’s a wooden sign in front of me with white letters carved into it: ‘Graveyard’ with an arrow pointing left, and ‘Hiking trail’ with an arrow pointing right. I don’t really like hiking and there’s probably nothing of interest in the graveyard, but I’ll check it out anyway. I like graveyards. I turn left and follow the path toward the heavily-shaded graveyard entrance, but as I get closer, I hear someone start shouting at me.
“Hey! Shithead!”
I cautiously glance towards the voice. There’s a smaller strip of the parking lot, one that’s almost completely empty, and walking towards me is… fuck, it’s that guy from earlier. The other guy, the bleach-blond, is still standing near their car.
“You busted my fucking light, you dick! You know how much that shit costs?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” The guy shouts and shoves me, a venomous glare in his green eyes.
“Well, if you don’t want me throwing shit at your car, don’t try to hit me with it. Your problem, not mine.” I shove him back and turn to walk away, but the guy grabs my shoulder and pulls me back hard enough that I almost trip.
“You don’t get to walk off from me, you little—!”
He cuts himself off when I pull out my knife and flick it open, pointing it against his jaw.
“I’m not looking for trouble. Leave me the hell alone.”
He looks taken aback for a split second, then he lets out a loud, obnoxious laugh. “Or what? You’re gonna kill me? With that tiny thing?” He laughs again, then turns to look at his friend. “Hey, Elliot, you hearin’ this shit? This twink thinks he can fight!” He calls over to the guy, who doesn’t respond. He just tilts his head a little, making no move to join the confrontation.
The guy turns back to me and before I can react, he grabs my arm and twists it hard, causing me to drop the knife. He sweeps my legs out from under me and I hit the ground, the concrete scraping my face.
“Well, c’mon! You wanna act tough, get up and fight me!” He taunts as he twists my arm further, his smirk widening into an evil-looking grin as I let out a pained shout. I grit my teeth, trying to get back on my feet, but his grip is too strong.
“Y’know what, that knife’s actually not too bad-looking. Why don’t we see how well it can cut?”
Suddenly he’s got the knife in his hand, examining the blade with an ugly smirk. Panic starts to creep in, but before he can do anything, someone starts shouting.
“Hey! The hell are you doing, get off him!”
The guy’s grip loosens, then he’s pulled off of me. My knife falls beside me, and I quickly grab it and scramble to my feet, breathing heavily. Fuck, my arm hurts, felt like he was about to snap it.
Red-Haired Boy scoffs. “Brandon.” He shoves the unfamiliar boy standing between us. “Fuck off, this ain’t your business.”
“Why’re you bothering this guy? Doesn’t look like he was causing a problem.” The tall boy, Brandon, replies. Red-Haired Boy looks at him with a look of pure disbelief, then scoffs again.
“Right, yeah, busting my fucking light and pulling a knife on me for no reason, that’s all good?” His voice drips with sarcasm as he points towards the broken light. His friend’s still standing by the car, looking unsure if he should step in or not.
“Look, I don’t know what happened with that, but me and my boys saw you two from across the field, he didn’t pull the knife on you for no reason.” Brandon defends me, motioning over his shoulder to where his friends are. “I don’t want a fight, and I’m sure he doesn’t either. Go, leave us alone or I’m gonna call the cops. Coach won’t be happy if the captain gets arrested before the season starts.”
Red-Haired Boy clenches his jaw, glaring at Brandon, then at me. “Whatever.” He scoffs and grabs the collar of my shirt again, pulling me closer so that our faces are inches apart. “I’m not done with you. Watch your fuckin’ back.”
With that, he shoves me away and walks back to his car. He says something to his friend, who glances at me before they both get into the car. I wait until they’ve driven off, then let out a sigh. Well, that was one hell of a welcome.
Brandon sighs and shakes his head. “Always something with him.” He mutters, then turns around to face me. I take a moment to get a good look at him. He’s a few inches taller than me, with a lean yet muscular build, medium-length dark brown locs that frame his face and eyes just as dark. “You good?”
“Yeah.” I reply. There’s a stinging pain on the side of my face, I definitely scraped it when I fell. “Could’ve taken him though, didn’t need the help. But thanks.”
“Yeah, totally.” The guy gives me a look. “Put that damn knife away, folks around here don’t play ‘bout that shit. If someone saw you and called the cops, you’d be the one in trouble, not Liam.”
“Oh no, dealing with the pigs, so scary.” I roll my eyes as I fold the knife and shove it back in my pocket. “So, what’s his story? Rich kid who thinks he owns the town?”
“Pretty much. His family’s got some money, he thinks he’s hot shit ‘cause of that. He’s bad news. I’d tell you to stay away from him, but… well, too late for that.” He gives a small shrug. “So, I’m Brandon. You new here? I don’t recognize you.”
“Damon. And yeah, just moved in today.”
“Well, welcome to the Cove. Not much to do around here, but it’s home. You going to the academy?” He asks, and I nod. “Cool. Dunno if we’ll run into each other, but if we do, I’ll introduce you to some of my buddies. They’re not assholes, promise.”
“Cool. Uh, I should probably head back, my mom’s probably gonna freak out if I’m not back soon.” I pull out my phone to check the time. Almost four-thirty. Yeah, definitely need to get back.
“Yeah, no problem. See ya around.” Brandon says. We exchange a quick fist bump, and Brandon heads back toward the soccer field, calling out to his friends. I stand there for a second, the adrenaline from the fight finally fading, leaving my arm throbbing and my cheek stinging.
I turn and head back toward the park entrance, the wheels of my board clicking over the pavement. Started the day moving out of my childhood home, ended it getting jumped by a rich prick who’s probably going to make my life hell. Love that for me.
School starts in a week, and it looks like I’ll be starting the year with a new enemy, but also a possible new friend. This is going to be a hell of a year.