The Invasion of Adam (Tork and Adam Book 2) by Claire Davis, Al Stewart Page B

just beginning to open. Their fragile leaves blew in the wind, making him feel guilty for having to fight off his desperation every time he came to one of these meetings.
    Coward.
    The little cat was sitting outside, waiting for him like always, not brave enough to come too close, but seeing him there made Tork smile.
    A movement drew his attention to Kevin, who always sat alone because the other kids said he smelt. He had black fingernails, brown teeth. He made Tork’s heart ache. Kevin looked up bleakly, and for an instant, they locked gazes. Tork smiled and nodded slightly; after a moment, Kevin smiled back.
    “OK, everyone, can we all sit around the table? I have some bank forms here for us to look at.”
    This was bad, because Tork would have to sit facing people. Looking at him, leaving him nowhere to hide. He was very stupid not to have worn his hoodie to hide under. His integration worker was wrong. He would never be ready for this.
    “C’n I sit next to you?” It was Kevin.
    Tork remembered his manners. “Of course. Please sit here next to me, and we can help one another.” He stared at the bank forms bleakly.
    “Does anyone already have a bank account?” Alex asked, looking around at the shuffles and blank faces.
    Tork had never spoken at a meeting or a life skills class, even when Alex looked pointedly at him. He just couldn’t.
    “Tork? What about you?”
    He felt the weight of their looks, crushing him like a gigantic cheese press. Terrible warm trickles of humiliation and fear flooded his body and crept under his skin, up his neck and into his face. He could be packed up and off within five minutes. Being homeless wasn’t so bad, and anything was better than this.
    “Yeah, I have,” Kevin spoke loudly, and miraculously, the attention moved away from Tork just in time for him to breathe.
    If he sat on his hands, no one would see the shaking or the sweat.
    Alex began to talk through the process, and after a few moments of head-banging panic, the room came back into alignment again. They were, after all, just kids.
    There was no real reason for fear, but that didn’t stop it.
    “I haven’t really,” Kevin whispered. Instead of words, he began to draw whirlpools on the bank form, pressing down harder and harder on the paper. Anguish was trapped in there, Tork could see. Kevin couldn’t write.
    “What’s your second name, Kevin?” he asked, writing ‘Kevin’ on his own form.
    “Miller. Kevin Miller.”
    “Date of birth?”
    Kevin thought.
    “Not sure, mate. July twentieth, I think.”
    Tork’s heart stuttered at this. Even when he’d been at his lowest, he’d always known his own birthday.
    “Do you know the year you were born, Kevin?”
    Kevin shrugged.
    “How old are you? We can work it out together.”
    They managed to fill in the whole form while all the others left.
    “Fanks.” Kevin grinned, his brown stubs looming out of his mouth. It was hard not to stare at them, but Tork smiled back.
    “You are very welcome. I like your drawings. If you like, I can show you how to make paper models.”
    “What about you, Tork?” Alex took his arm, and Tork involuntarily pulled back.
    Rule: no touching.
    “I already have a bank account. I lost all the papers, but Mike helped me to get them back,” he whispered, knowing she was watching him carefully.
    “How are you doing, love? You seem to be out every time I come round.”
    But it was already way too much for one day, and smiling at her as he ran was the best he could manage.
    * * *
Adam
    All the way up the tram line, his bad temper just grew and grew. This was a shit part of town, and people like him shouldn’t have to come here. He shook his head in disbelief at all the garden sofas and litter…
    At the burnt-out cars…
    At the gangs of kids…
    At all the boarded-up houses.
    But mostly, he shook his head at himself, for coming here when he had a perfectly nice college flat over the other side of town, far away from this plague