Author's NoteWell, this is the second chapter of The Elementalists. Sorry it took so long, and I hope you guys like it. Anyway, now I'm introducing Aidan Ventatio, another character in the book. Please let me know what you think and review it!!

Thanks,
Erica Mowry

The Elementalists
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Chapter 2:
Another Day, Another Family

She was late.

Well, Aidan wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t surprised. He had had Dawn Kydrian as his social worker for years, and she had never been a minute late for any of their meetings. Then again, after four years of living in foster homes, he was used to disappointments. Dawn deciding to take him in for a while was definitely something new to him, though, and so far, he wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing. So far, all social workers did was place you in a home. They never became the head of your new home.

He was waiting in Dawn’s office, or outside it, in one of the hard puke-green plastic chairs kept outside for people waiting to get in. His duffel bag and backpack had been packed the day before, when the Mercanaans had finally had enough of him after three longs months. They had been sending him to a private Catholic school, earnestly trying to ‘save his soul,’ as his guidance counselor had said, or something like that. Maybe the school had been Baptist. Or Lutheran. He couldn’t be sure. Religion had never been one of his stronger qualities.

Still, was it his fault that James Greene had found himself shoved into his locker, which had been closed before he even got to it, and that the teachers lounge had been trashed with the Anarchy sign scribbled all over everything, and ‘School is for Dicks’ spray painted on the wall of the gym? It wasn’t like he had done anything at the Mercanaan’s actual house. Well, except for accidentally breaking the TV, but he had claimed it was a power surge, and Domino, the family dog, had definitely broken into their younger son’s room, which had been locked previously, and eaten all those twenties that he had worked so hard for on his bike route.

Either way, the Mercanaans were definitely a bunch of fun killers. And their son, Carson, had been a huge prep. One of those tennis playing, straight A making machines. If he had had a sweater to tie around his neck, he would have been a white Carlton Banks.

Finally, the door at the end of the hallway opened. The hallway, far too bright with its harsh luminescent lights, radiated more light as Dawn Kydrian shuffled down the hallway, swinging her normal white tote bag.

“Sorry I’m late,” Dawn panted, her ‘sensible shoes’ slipping across the old wooden floor. “I got, uh, held up.” She glanced down at Aidan’s black duffel bag and backpack, lying on the floor by the chair. “Is that all you have?”

“Yup.” Aidan picked up his bags, “So, where to this time?” He asked sardonically.

Dawn frowned, “I really wish you wouldn’t have that sort of attitude towards it.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a ring of keys. “Just let me get some things out of my office.” She clicked open the door and headed into her small office, and Aidan poked his head in after her.

The little room was cluttered with files and Dawn’s large wooden desk, as well as the stuffed filing cabinet and two wooden chairs against the wall. The fridge she kept underneath her desk, he knew, was stuffed with snacks, and her window, though the blinds were closed, had a perfect view of one of his old foster homes. Well, it was perfect except it was an old foster home.

“Just…hang…on…” Dawn was hastily stuffing folders into her tote bag, already filled to the brim and splitting at the seams. “Want a drink or anything?” She always offered him a drink. Aidan remembered how grateful he had been for that soda while living with the Pattersons a few months, a tightwad couple obsessed with eliminating sugar from the face of the earth.

“No thanks,” Aidan sat down in the wooden chair on the left, his normal chair. Normally, his replacement chair. The one he sat in whenever he was being replaced to a new foster home.

“Well,” Dawn flipped through folders, searching for the right one, “We set up the house. You’ll have a room, and Alex and I are sharing the other one…um, you’re not allergic to cats, right?”

Aidan frowned, “No. Remember that cat lady, Mrs. Emerson? She must have had at least nine and I survived there.”

“Well, we only have one.” Dawn said with a little laugh, “And she wasn’t a cat lady. She was a very nice woman, Aidan. I wish you would have had a better attitude towards her…”

Aidan rolled his eyes, “Whatever.” It was best not to argue with Dawn Kydrian. She had an uncanny ability of winning.

Dawn conveniently ignored him. “Well, it’s just Alex’s cat, Gracie. She won’t be a problem, though. She usually stays in Alex’s room or the yard.”

“Sure. Fine. Great.” The patented phrase for when things were okay when they really weren’t. Again, Dawn ignored him. Though Aidan wouldn’t admit it, he wasn’t looking forward to living with Dawn. She was generally good as his social worker, but still, he was pretty sure living with her would be one big counseling session.

Her daughter, Alex, he wasn’t so sure about. From the way Dawn made her out, she was a cheerleader, perky and without any problems whatsoever. Great. Just perfect. Still, she wasn’t exactly ugly from the picture on Dawn’s desk. Aidan could see it now, in a wooden frame, with a girl probably around thirteen or fourteen grinning at him, sandy blonde hair straight and long, blue eyes sparkling, her straight white teeth still bound in awkward braces. Kill the braces, and she could potentially be very cute, had she not been his new foster sister. According to Dawn, she was now his age, and had lost the braces around last Halloween.

“Alex should be here any minute,” Dawn went on, as though reading Aidan’s mind as she looked up from her heavy tote bag, “She’s getting dropped off by a friend since I couldn’t get her from school, and I wanted you two to meet each other here.”

What, so if Ms. Pompoms doesn’t like me, you still have a chance to dump me in a new house? Aidan thought bitterly, but he didn’t say it.

“Sure. Fine. Great.”

“So let’s get this straight – your mom dragged in a stray?”

Alex grimaced, “Trust me Nick, it wasn’t my idea.”

Nicole Cherish, fellow cheerleader and co-captain, glanced over at Alex, eyebrows raised. Her almond eyes and bronze complexion were perfectly made over, her dark brown hair perfectly straight. The Mustang she had ‘inherited’ pulled smoothly into the parking lot of the social office where Dawn worked.

“Maybe I should check him out,” Nicole offered, already starting to unbuckle her seatbelt, “You know, make sure he isn’t a nerd or something and make it clear you guys aren’t in anyway related before school Monday.”

“Nicole, chill.” Alex put a hand over Nicole’s to stop her from undoing her seatbelt, “As I know and the whole school knows, you want to check out every guy in Little Rock. Get over it. BFFs can’t date sibs. Even foster sibs.”

“Deny me a possibly hot guy? Totally unfair.” Nicole snorted, reaching into the glove compartment as Alex started to get out, and retrieving a Beyonce CD, “Get over it, Alex. I want a call by Saturday night, tomorrow night, on how he is. Call past midnight and face my wrath.”

Alex raised an eyebrow as she shoulder her messenger bag, “Wrath?” she repeated, “Wow, big vocabulary word for you. Have you been reading the dictionary again?”

Nicole blared up on the stereo, “Sorry Alex. I don’t translate bad jokes anymore. See you on Monday.” She started to back out of the lot as Alex stepped up onto the sidewalk towards the social office as Nicole drove out of sight, her red Mustang sticking out like a sore thumb against downtown Little Rock.

This was completely unfair to her, Alex thought as she went out of the parking lot and into the building, waving at the harried looking receptionist at her desk, who waved her up the stairs from where she was arguing with her husband about what to have for dinner, as she always did at this time.

“She’s up in her office,” Mrs. Oman said as Alex started up the stairs, covering the mouthpiece with one hand, “By the way, Leonard wants pork chops tonight, and we had them last week. What else is there? I’m personally in the mood for something foreign, maybe Italian…”

“Try some of the lasagna from The Vineyard,” Alex said as she started up the stairs, calling down her shoulder. She had known Mrs. Oman since she had moved to Little Rock with her mother, and the woman was constantly asking for dinner consults. “Go light on the cheese, though…”

“Thanks Alex!” Mrs. Oman called up the stairs, then she went back to arguing with her husband about The Vineyard and pork chops.

Dawn’s office was on the second of the three floors of the department, and at the far end of the hall. Alex climbed up the stairs and went down the hall towards her mother’s office, where the door was wide open, and she could her voices. Her mother’s as papers shuffled, while she probably searched for an envelope, and then a younger teenager’s voice. Alex knew it had to be Aidan.

When she stepped into the office, leaning against the wall against her heavy bag of schoolbooks, Dawn gave a cheery, “There you are, Alex. We were just talking about you.” She gestured towards the chairs against the wall, across from Alex, “Alex, this is Aidan Ventatio.”

Alex glanced towards the boy in the chair. He was taller than her, she could already tell, by the length of his legs, and with tanned skin and dark brown hair, like dry dust when you didn’t water the grass enough on a playground in the summer. His eyes were lower than his wide forehead, yet his dark hair curled over his forehead almost perfectly natural.

Great. Alex thought as she glanced up as her mother began chatting amiably again, Nicole was right. Again.