See You E-Book

Alicia Lo Martire

• Herausgeber: novum publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 287

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

A lingering anger, two broken hearts, and a place full of secrets and healing: Grey House. Once arch enemies, Damien and Amara meet again after years apart and are forced by the unyielding but healing presence of the place to face their deepest fears—Amara's fear of being alone, Damien's fear of losing control. Grey House seems like a master who uses its natural magic to uncover old wounds and lead to healing. But as they come to terms with their past, something unexpected begins to grow: a tender love that could change them—if they find the courage to trust it.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Dedication

See You

Prólogo

Capítulo 1

Capítulo 2

Capítulo 3

Capítulo 4

Capítulo 5

Capítulo 6

Capítulo 7

Capítulo 8

Capítulo 9

Capítulo 10

Capítulo 11

Capítulo 12

Capítulo 13

Capítulo 14

Capítulo 15

Capítulo 16

Capítulo 17

Capítulo 18

Capítulo 19

Capítulo 20

Capítulo 21

Capítulo 22

Capítulo 23

Capítulo 24

Capítulo 25

Capítulo 26

Capítulo 27

Capítulo 28

Capítulo 29

Capítulo 30

Capítulo 31

Capítulo 32

Capítulo 33

Capítulo 34

Capítulo 35

The End

Epílogo

IMPRINT

Dedication

For my family, who encouraged me

to publish this book.

See You

Playlist

CHEMTRAILS OVER THE COUNTRY CLUB - Lana Del Rey

IF WE HAVE EACH OTHER - Alec Benjamin

LONELY ONES - LOVA

HERE WITH ME - d4vd

YOUNG, DUMB & BROKE - Khalid

THIS IS WHAT SADNESS FEELS LIKE - JVKE

BLAME'S ON ME - Alexander Stewart

HEAVEN - Julia Michaels

MEMORY LANE - Haley Joelle

OUT OF LOVE - Alessia Cara

WHO - Lauv (feat. BTS)

CHANGES - Lauv

DUMB LOVE - Mimi Webb

WILDEST DREAM - Taylor Swift

DON'T BLAME ME - Taylor Swift

MIDNIGHT RAIN - Taylor Swift

LONELY - Noah Cyrus

WHAT OTHER PEOPLE SAY - Sam Fischer and Demi Lovato

SET FIRE TO THE RAIN - Adele

TRAITOR - Olivia Rodrigo

FALSE CONFIDENCE - Noah Kahan

SLOW DANCING IN A BURNING ROOM - John Mayer

LIGHTS DOWN LOW - MAX

BABY WHY - Sarah Cothran

DANDELIONS - Ruth B.

NIGHTS LIKE THESE - Benson Bone

Prólogo

AMARA O'KELLY - Damien Garcia was one of those boys at kindergarten who looked like a complete sweetheart. He had big blue eyes, naturally flushed cheeks, curly brown hair, and little freckles on his nose. His long eyelashes would make any woman melt, not to mention that sweet smile. In short, Damien was the picture of innocence. But what they didn't know was that he was the devil himself. They didn't know that he could change his personality and become the boy who destroyed sandcastles and pulled girls' pigtails. The boy who throws mud at you and laughs when your new dress gets dirty. I'll give you one reason why I'm telling you this, and it's pretty simple.

I was the girl he nagged all the time:

DAMIEN GARCIA – Amara O'Kelly, the girl I had labelled the most annoying person in the world.

Loud, pushy, annoying, a know-it-all – shall I go on?

Amara is anything but the girl you want. She's the girl you'd like to shoot to the moon. In kindergarten, she was the teacher's favourite. Her parents thought she was adorable, with her long blonde hair and big brown eyes. The dimples that formed when she laughed, and the way her little button nose crinkled whenever she smiled, created the image of a sweet girl.

You didn't see the evil twinkle in her eye when she told on me again. Nor did they see the sly grin when she did something naughty. They didn't see how she would always stick her tongue out at you and then run away. What happened behind their backs was a hidden truth: I always got the punishment, while she got away with it. Believe me when I say that I loathe that girl.

She's the girl I had to work off all the punishments for.

Capítulo 1

Bienvenidos a la casa gris

AMARA O'KELLY - My life sucks. It just sucks. The facade I've built up over the years is one of being a cool girl who doesn't pay attention to her parents, who doesn't care about school and who only hangs out with the popular people. But in reality, I'm not at all one of those things.

A load of lies. All the things you've done over the years to protect yourself. It all turns out to be false.

Like I said, it's all a lie.

But of course that wasn't seen by anybody, because the only thing that was noticed by people was the change. They saw that you hadn't become one of them, but one against them. Whether you believe me or not, if I could go back and choose a different path, I would. But my stubborn belief that I had chosen the right path got me nowhere except into trouble.

I don't want to be one of the normal ones.

My beliefs were changed by me, and if that resulted in me becoming another problem child, then that had to be accepted by me. Loud music was blaring through my headphones so I wouldn't have to hear my mom and her boyfriend talking, but my mother's movements snapped me out of my trance quicker than I had intended. Tired, I puffed out the tense air that was to blame for my lack of concentration. I was always amazed at how I had to keep myself together not to lose my temper over something as small as listening to my mum. My mother's waving became more frantic, and more stress marks formed on her neck. I mean, to me, it was obvious that she was getting upset. So I pulled my headphones out of my ears and looked at her disinterestedly. "What?" I replied when she didn't say anything except look at me. Once more, she simply watched me until she let out a deep exhale and started talking. "Do you remember what we discussed?" she inquired, causing me to startle and avert my gaze from her, my eyes once more fixed on the window. 'What part of our conversation? The one where I was supposed to behave? Or the other part where I would lose my cell phone if I didn't change?" She drew in a sharp breath when I looked at her. A petty smile formed on my lips. "Sounds pretty similar for my taste, doesn't it?" The irony in my voice was impossible to miss.

"Amara, I'm begging you, try to be a bit more serious, alright?" She touched her forehead to rub it gently. It was another sign that the situation was stressing her out. However, she did not cut the discussion off entirely. Her look was full of certainty that it really was a good idea to send me to camp.

"Take it positively," she replied confidently. "It could be your chance to change. It could be your chance to improve your attitude towards your own life." This only made me grumble. I turned away from her and leaned my head against the window without saying anything back. I could feel her looking at me, but she didn't look at me for long because Dean, her boyfriend, was more interesting for the conversation. I put my headphones back in and attempted to block out the nagging feeling in my chest, the nagging feeling that my mother saw me as a burden, and that her actions were not helping, but making things worse.The music was loud enough that I couldn't hear what was around me, but the song itself sounded fuzzy and quiet.

And yet my mother's voice screamed over it.

"Your chance to change."

A phrase that has haunted me since last night and one which I am still trying to come to terms with.

What were the chances? I just couldn't get my head around why she was trying to tell me. Why didn't she tell me in front of me that I wasn't a normal teenager? Why didn't she tell me that she was sending me to summer camp because she had lost hope in me?

She told me it was a chance to change my path. But what I learned was that when you turn into a bad person, it's a choice and not a sudden change of mood.

The landscapes we drove past all looked the same.

With each glance outside, fatigue overcame me. As hard as I tried to keep my eyes open, they became heavier and heavier until sleep was finally fallen into. It was only when the car stopped that I woke up and looked out of the window.

A grey house with a constant stream of teenagers entering and exiting was in front of us. 'Amara.' My mother's voice sounded muffled because I still had my headphones in. But the music had long since stopped, leaving me to listen to the silence.

I slowly pulled them out, my eyes still fixed on the house. 'I know you don't want to be here,' she said, 'but this is your chance.' I looked at her and glared, which she returned with a soft look, making me even angrier. She reached out for me, wanting to stroke my leg, but I pulled away from her touch. Her hand remained frozen in the air before slowly lowering again as she looked at Dean, who had placed his hand on her knee. He just shook his head. I rolled my eyes and moved away from the two of them. "We're only doing this for you, sweetheart," my mother tried to soothe me, but all she could get out of me was a horrified noise. "You're not helping me." I couldn't help but look back at her and say, "You're giving up on me." My voice sounded small and different, but I didn't care. She pressed her lips tightly together, which caused another tug in my chest and made my eyes sting.

So I wasn't wrong.

Clearly, you weren't. You are a failure.

I had to get out of this car. So I averted my eyes from her and gave a laugh. "Fuck you." I growled to them as I then got out and closed the door with a flourish. The slam of the door echoed through the forecourt and reality hit me.

Violently and without mercy.

She's given up on you, feels like shit, doesn't it?

I had to get out of this car. I looked away from her and laughed. "Screw you." I let out a growl as I got out and closed the door with a bang. The slam of the door reverberated through the forecourt, and I was struck by a sudden realisation.

Violently and without mercy.

You have been given up on by her, you feel like crap, don't you?

I didn't look back, but starting the car didn't leave me cold. With a great effort, I stopped myself from crying. I didn't want to cry for people I didn't care about.

And yet, every time another step was taken, another part of me broke. I couldn't deal with the pain of rejection from my family, no matter how hard I tried to lie to myself.

Especially when it came from my own family.

And yet, I dealt with it as I usually did. I raised my head and walked towards the house. I walked with the others in the direction of the house, but I didn't go in straight away. I stopped in front of the door and read the sign on the door.

'Welcome to Grey House.'

A suppressed sigh escaped me.

More like welcome to hell!

Capítulo 2

Bienvenidos a la casa gris pt.2

DAMIEN GARCIA - The ride was quiet. Too quiet for my taste. My dad sat next to me in the driver's seat and looked out quietly.

He wasn't talking to me.

Ever since the incident where I had to be taken out of the police station and it was decided that I should be signed up for this camp that was supposed to help me. I gazed down at my feet and listened to the tunes on the radio, one of those Mexican vocalists my father was fond of.

My dad and I didn't have a bad relationship. It just bothered him that I couldn't control my own emotions. He thought I dealt with my problems by messing up.

My eyes wandered outside, into the area around me. You couldn't see much; it wasn't a busy area. We passed several bushes that were decorated with a mix of yellow and green leaves, and that was all. It didn't seem deserted, but it didn't seem like a place you'd want to stay for life either.

A spot that's ideal for setting up camp, completely isolated from the outside world.

My eyes moved from the fields and bushes to the wing mirror of the car and observed my reflection. There was a hideous scar on my left cheek. Blue, yellow and purple marks adorned it, and it was swollen all around. My hair had become lighter and the freckles that were already there were more visible on my tanned skin. I must have looked like the biggest tough guy to many people. In a funny way, some might even have said that it made me attractive. But in truth, I was simply lost.

I didn't feel like a tough guy or particularly attractive. The only thing I felt was emptiness. If you could say that it was a feeling. Here, feelings were not a consideration. You couldn't say you experienced any emotions when you gazed at your reflection each day and wished to simply avoid looking.

And that's what I did. Every time I looked at myself, nothing came up. Not in terms of feelings. It was as if I saw a black hole, and somewhere in that hole was the end, but it just seemed like it was bottomless.

So I looked away, closed my eyes, and let the dark numbness envelop me.

***

The car came to a halt, signalling to me that we had arrived.

With a gulp, I looked out of the window. A grey house stood there, not huge but big enough to make a summer camp out of.

It looked inviting, but I didn't want to get out of the car. Nevertheless, the silence in the car forced me to get out of this uncomfortable situation. I didn't dare look at my dad. Not even when he cleared his throat and turned the music down a little. "Hijo," he began, but then fell silent. I nibbled a little on my lip, the dry flesh falling away more and more. "It wasn't an easy choice, Damien. We had a long discussion about whether to send you here, but we can't go on like this.' His smoky voice took on a deeper tone, and his accent was clearly audible. I didn't stiffen because of that, though. No, it was the complete seriousness behind it that gave me goose bumps. I knew they were doing this to help me. I wish I could have done it myself.

I still didn't look at him and just nodded. I knew I'd messed up, so I had no choice but to nod and say nothing. "Te queremos, hijo" ("We love you, son"). Don't forget that," he said, grabbing the back of my neck and squeezing it slightly before releasing it. My mouth remained shut, even though the voice in my head was practically screaming to say something back. 'I really hope you take this opportunity, Damien. Don't let it pass you by.' He didn't utter another word and immediately turned around to face the front. I looked down at my lap and held all these rising emotions inside me, and then got out of the car. As I slung my bag around my shoulder and stood in that sweltering heat, I realised how serious this was going to be. I watched my father drive away. Even minutes later, when the car was no longer there, I looked at the same spot. The heaviness of the bag on my shoulder was the signal for me to shoulder it once more and turn away. Despite the heat outside, I felt cold. Not even then did I feel any warmth as I stood in front of the door of the house and looked at a sign that read in a welcoming font: 'Welcome to Grey House.'

Capítulo 3

El chico con la sonrisa permanente

AMARA O'KELLY - I missed my room. That's what I thought the moment I saw my new room for the next five weeks. The walls had been painted a cream colour, and the room was awash with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia, reminiscent of the style of an eighties girl's bedroom. I pursed my lips and walked towards the only free bed. I dropped my bag on it and finally sat down. My eyes moved from the walls to the bed that had been occupied. With a sudden realisation, I understood that my room would no longer be exclusively mine. I would be sharing it with someone I had never met before. My eyes closed tiredly and I let myself fall backwards.

This day was getting worse by the minute.

It just sort of wandered through my head, like a load of images. The day wasn't even over yet and I already felt the need to process it. All these emotions, and the new information I had received. Nothing fit together anymore. They left a huge gap between my reality and how others perceived me. Once again, I wondered how distorted my perception could be. When I opened my eyes again, the tears that had been welling up were just there. Worst of all, it didn't look like they were going to go away. I sat up again and looked around for something to calm me down. The first thing I saw was the window leading to a small terrace outside. My feet took me there and my hands almost forcefully opened the window. The warm air hit me and took my breath away. My pulse was racing and my heart was pounding.

It wasn't the first time something like this had happened to me. It wasn't a panic attack, but it was something and that something was forcing me to always do something rather than just stand there and let it happen to me. Exhausted, I closed my eyes and noticed how my shoulders calmed down more and more, and bit by bit my whole body did too.

And when it finally subsided, I opened my eyes again and looked outside. The village was very rural. From a distance, you could see a large meadow adorned with lush greenery. There was something relaxing about it. The meadow was wide and from everywhere came small laughs that belonged to the young people hanging around. The sky was decorated in a fine pink and small clouds painted it. There was a tree not far from the house. It was quite out of the way and not particularly tall. It fitted in there in a very strange way. It adorned this otherwise empty spot and I couldn't imagine this place without it.

But that wasn't the only reason that kept me attached to this tree. No, I knew it was also a good retreat.

Not just good, a perfect retreat.

With a satisfied smile, I moved away from the window and lay back down on the bed. Sucking in the last few minutes of silence, not knowing when this would be broken. Speaking of the devil, the door burst open at that moment.

A mane of wild blonde curls stood there. Her hair reflected pure wildness, but she herself was the very image of shyness and innocence.

Small, petite and extremely feminine.

Hell, she wouldn't even hurt a fly.

When she noticed me, a big smile spread across her lips. Hesitating to see if she would say anything, I took my eyes off her and turned away. My concentration returned to my bag, which was lying on my bed like a sack of potatoes left alone.

When I turned back to put my things in the closet, she had a notebook in her hand and was scribbling something on it. I furrowed my eyebrows and watched her half-heartedly.

She didn't let it bother her and carried on with what she was doing. When she had finished whatever she was doing, her joyful eyes flashed and she slipped me the notebook.

I looked at her, perplexed.

Once to her, then back to the notebook.

I played this game a few times until my gaze remained fixed on the notebook. I couldn't interpret what I had expected. But in any case, I didn't think she had written anything down for me.

„Hello, my name is Delia, you must be my new roommate, it's nice to meet you.” it said. One eyebrow went up. I looked at her again.

Did she think I was deaf?

The smile on her lips gradually disappeared until she bit her lips a little and scribbled in her notebook again.

“Are you mute too?”

Complete confusion spread through me. What was I reading here? Was she just asking me if I was really mute? What kind of crazy place had I ended up in?

With a gasp, I moved away from her once more. "No, I'm definitely not mute." My voice sounded raspy. With a sigh, I dropped onto my bed. I paid no attention to the pile of clothes that fell from the shaking.

The stranger glanced around a little, letting the notebook dangle off to the side. I tilted my head and watched her.

Then I turned away again, rolling my eyes. I was beginning to get the feeling that she was making fun of me.

"Look, I don't know what you want from me, but you're getting on my nerves by writing things down or looking around stupidly. If you want to know something, just ask." She flinched a little at the coldness of my voice. I was almost sorry, but my ability to be nice had been used up a long time ago.

“What's your name?”

When I took my eyes off her and looked her in the eyes. My breath caught. There was a gleam in her eye. It was something I had lost a long time ago. The way she looked at me, hoping that I would take care of her, made me angry. She shouldn't look at me like that, she should just leave me alone. Again I struggled to breathe and tried to turn away from her, but she grabbed my wrist, which made me even madder. I pulled away from her grip and glared at her angrily. "Don't touch me!" I growled at her. The sudden rage gathered in my chest and enveloped me completely. My hands began to tremble so that I had to clench them into a fist. When I turned my gaze back to her, she recoiled slightly, causing me to press my fingernails more into the skin of my hand. "I don't know what you thought we were, but I'll tell you once and then I never want you near me again," I growled at her, making her wince, "We're not best friends, and we never will be. When we meet, we each go our separate ways as though we've never met. Understood?”, I didn't wait for an answer and turned back to my things.

Breathing in and out.

After a long time, I heard footsteps moving away from me. Then I heard the door open and close again, leaving me completely alone in the room. The burning in my eyes subsided and I was finally able to swallow the fat lump and noticed how my fingers relaxed and I was able to open my fist. The imprint of my fingernails had sunk deep into my skin and reflected all the emotions I was feeling.

Repression, anger and frustration.

I slumped down on the bed and looked at the bare wall.

Naked and bare, that's what it looked like.

I bit my lower lip hard, letting these feelings sink in, rushing towards me like a storm. My skin tingled, making me hug myself and realize that I felt no different than that wall.

Completely naked and bare.

***

A constant knocking woke me from my sleep. My head was pounding and my throat was dry. The unfamiliar room made me flinch at first, but I quickly realized where I was again. Swaying, I sat upright as another knock sounded on the door. With a quick glance at the mirror, I saw how messy I looked at that moment, but I didn't have time to get my bearings as there was another knock. "I'm coming," I yelped. As I opened the door, I was met by a guy looking at me with a big grin. “I could have sworn I heard that phrase somewhere last night.”, the stranger said. I raised an eyebrow and looked at him closely. "Can I help you with something? As far as I know, this is the girls’ floor." I said curtly, not bothering to respond to his strange remark from before. The strange boy kept the mischievous smile on his lips, if not, it widened and small laugh lines appeared around his eyes.

"My lady, you have been asked to join the lessons of the consultation." he said, making a dramatic hand gesture, which made me a little puzzled. But it wasn't his comical manner that made me pause, it was what he said. "Lessons for the ... consultation?" I questioned. The stranger tilted his head and furrowed his brow a little, causing his grin to escape his lips, but it was quickly back on and this time more intense, causing dimples to form on his cheeks. "Oh man, they didn't enlighten you at all, did they?" He laughed, which gave me a kick in the stomach. "Enlighten about what?" My shoulders tensed as I asked him that, still unclear how much I actually wanted to know what this camp was. The stranger laughed again. "You realise you're at a summer camp. It's specifically for problematic cases like us." When he said that, something dropped in my stomach, leaving a complete explosion.

A summer camp for problematiccases, like us.

As it sank into me what he had said, it felt like the bottom had been pulled out of me and I was falling into nothingness.

"No, I'm at a regular summer camp. You got the wrong door, friend." I tried to refuse, but as I went to close the door, he held it open and pulled out a piece of paper. "Amara O'Kelly?" he read. I felt all the color drain from my face. The guy smirked again and put the note back in his pocket.

“I guess someone's played a nasty trick on you, O'Kelly.” he replied, before disappearing from my line of sight.

Capítulo 4

Amara O'Kelly

DAMIEN GARCIA - My roommate wasn't quite all there. He was loud and laughed at his own jokes. He also had a permanent grin on his face, which made me wonder if he was always high. I put my arm over my closed eyes, tensely trying to get some sleep, but I kept hearing rustling and mumbling, which only made me exhale in annoyance. When my roommate wouldn't give me any rest, I took my arm away from my eyes and sat up. "Do you know such a thing as quiet time?" I asked him. But it didn't help much as he had no interest in how I was feeling and carried on doing whatever he was doing. It went on like this until he made a loud noise and then triumphantly held up a pack of cigarettes. "I thought the old folks had found it. I couldn't get through the day without them." he said with a grin and dropped onto the bed, taking a cigarette from the packet and putting it between his lips.

I swallowed a little at the sight of the cigarette, which he must have noticed, because he started grinning again. With a purposeful toss, he tossed it over to me and winked. "You can thank me later." Then he went to the window, opened it and lit the thing.

I shouldn't.

I shouldn't, and yet my fingers played with the curves of the cigarette. But even after much deliberation, I put it aside and turned my attention to my things. "I didn't even introduce myself. My name is Aidan." I heard my roommate say. I turned to him and gave him a curt nod. "Damien." I replied and concentrated on my things again. The smell of the cigarette enveloped the room and made me tense. The muscle in my jaw twitched tensely as I picked up my clothes and tossed them rather aggressively into the closet. As I turned back around and grabbed another pile of clothes, Aiden put out the cigarette. It was embarrassing how much it calmed me then, as the smell just floated subtly around the room. Running my hand over my face, I puffed tiredly. "Badass scar, man, is that why you're here?" I was bombarded with another question. Only this time he hit a spot. This point made it difficult for me to swallow the lump. I would have loved to run away at that moment, but I couldn't.

I was here because of my own stupidity.

My own disappointment.

That's why I gave him a look that was supposed to tell him to shut up and stop digging in other people's shit. Aidan tilted his head and reminded me more and more of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. The way he teased you and liked it when you were annoyed. "What was your reason?" My voice sounded tense. I compulsively tried to hold back before I did something stupid, but by then it was too late. "Did your parents not fancy you anymore?" A bitter taste arose in my mouth when I saw the look on Aidan's face and the permanent grin disappeared.

I had probably hit the nail on the head.

"Hey man, I'm sorry -" I tried to apologize, but he just shook it off. A grin had appeared on his lips again, only this time it was forced. "Leave it alone, you're not wrong." Towards the end of his statement, his voice became weaker and weaker. But he just shook himself and grinned a little wider again. "Come on, newbie, it's time you met the rest of our crazy group," he said cheekily, but there was a certain seriousness behind it that gave me goosebumps.

It was time, there was no turning back now.

Aidan continued to walk towards the door, not paying much attention to whether I followed him. This would have been my chance to disappear, it would have been easy, I would have just had to grab and run out.

Nevertheless, I got up and followed the crowd of other teenagers who were heading in the direction where these so-called speaking lessons were taking place.

***

The group was a lot smaller than I had expected. There were five people in total, all between the ages of seventeen and twenty. I looked around a bit, observing the people, which made my eyes linger on a group of boys. They were all sitting on the table, grinning broadly, cracking inappropriate jokes and doing everything they could to look great. I knew that feeling, I knew that sparkle in their eyes. It was so familiar that goose bumps spread across my skin. The memories of those days when I had withdrawn, skipped school, only to sit high for hours behind the school with people who didn't care about me at all. The fake laughter that echoed through the room made my anger run through my veins. They all talked to each other like they were doing really well, but the thing was, we weren't. We lied so that others would like us, we hid the hurt so that others wouldn't throw us away. We threw the truth into the void because the pain we had learned to hide was three times what this pathetic world understood and not even when you thought others understood you, they did. They judged you and only saw the bad in you. Without really realizing it, you became a rebel. You became the bad guy, without a real voice. You were cut off from everything and everyone and the worst thing was that you couldn't even justify yourself because everything you said had no value. You were living a complete lie that you had got yourself into. A cramped smile formed on my lips and I realized how the desire to get drunk arose in me again. To simply escape reality. My thoughts were interrupted when the head of the camp clapped her hands loudly. "Hello, my dears, I'm very happy to see so many new faces, but it's even nicer to see lots of familiar faces," she said happily and I automatically wondered how she had practised this announcement in front of the mirror last night. "As you've already seen, we have a new guest in our group," she said. I wanted to sink into the ground when she looked in my direction. "Everyone, please say hello to Damien Garcia," she introduced me and started clapping. The rest of the group did the same, causing my jaw to tighten. "Welcome Damien, my name is Katy and I will be your contact for the remaining five weeks," she said. Not trusting my voice, I could only nod. But just when I thought the worst part was over, it only got worse. "Tell us about yourself, Damien, we want to get to know you," she added to my embarrassment. Something inside me twitched, how could I introduce myself when I didn't even know myself. The muscle in my jaw twitched as I straightened up a little and looked around. No one seemed interested, no one wanted to get to know me, I could say what I wanted and no one would respond. My father's voice popped into my head and made me swallow hard. Take this opportunity, Damien.

So I exhaled a little and began to speak. "My name is Damien Garcia, I'm seventeen years old and I'm here." I swallowed, but I stuck my chin up and continued speaking. "I'm here to better myself." I struggled to keep my voice strong, to really believe that what I was saying was true. As expected, I didn't. "That's great! Do you have any preferences, Damien?" she said, grinning broadly in my direction, but I just shook my head and stopped looking at her. My gaze wandered to my lap. My curls obscured my view, allowing me to exhale a little, but the tension didn't leave me. "Well, welcome again here at Grey House, Damien, I really hope you have a wonderful time here!" Even you don't believe that