Chapter Twenty.

"Is everything okay?" Adam asked as Cameron and Eden sat down at the restaurant.

Since his old appearance had been 'compromised', Adam had taken on on the appearance of a twelve-year-old boy with black hair and dark blue eyes, his fair skin lightly tanned. Cameron only knew who he was because Eden had seen him earlier that day and pointed him out.

The restaurant itself was more like an upper-level bar and grill, where its cheapest burger cost ten dollars and the staff prided itself on excellent food rather than fast food. Cameron's nerves grew with every passing moment in fear of being kicked out for being street trash. As usual, he sat at the edge of the booth, ready to leave on a moment's notice.

"No," Eden responded. "Some social worker lady showed up at the park. Cameron's apparently seen her a couple of times around town, and she showed him a picture of something, claiming it had to do with a case she'd just gotten. It freaked him out, and she knows who he really is, apparently."

"What did she show you?" Adam asked Cameron. "I can get her off your case with a phone call, if it's freaking you out."

"Um," Cameron shifted around. "My token."

"Your what?" Eden asked.

"Something he's had with him through the homes," Adam explained. "I take it you have it on you?"

Cameron nodded.

"Mind if I see it?" Adam asked. "I promise on my magic that I'll return it to you."

Cameron fidgeted again, then pulled out his wallet, before pulling out the golden coin and handing it to Adam, whose mouth formed an 'o' when he saw it.

"The Thornton Crest," he said. "A three-peak crown worn by a staff, with ancient magic runes on the back. This is the real deal, too."

Adam looked at Cameron critically, then nodded.

"Yeah," he handed the coin back to its owner. "You're a Thornton, I can see it in your eyes, ears, and jaw. Interesting that you were in the system, though – I can't think of a reason why a Thornton would willingly allow one of their own to be given up."

"Well, I don't want them," Cameron said, agitation clear in his voice. "I don't need them. I don't need anyone. I've got the voices, and that's enough for me!"

"What about me?" Eden asked quietly, and Cameron looked at him.

"Um," Cameron suddenly looked very, very sorry. "That being enough doesn't mean there can't be more."

"Nice save!" Adam laughed, and Cameron blushed.

The younger boy returned his coin to his wallet, which he slipped back into his pocket just as the waitress arrived to take their drink orders.

"Hi," Adam said. "I've been sitting here for nearly forty minutes, and no one came by for my drinks. Any particular reason the kid was getting ignored until five minutes after his friends showed up? I'm actually rather quite thirsty for both a drink and a word with the manager. Drinks first."

"Yeah," the waitress looked nervous. "I'll get him for you just as soon as I go to get your drinks."

"You do that," Adam told her. "I'll have a root beer."

"Dr. Pepper," Eden said.

"Same," Cameron said. "Oh! And a root beer float!"

Cameron's face flushed as he realized his childish exclamation, which was quite unlike him.

"Make that three," Adam said. "Now run along, and don't forget the manager."

The waitress looked annoyed as she left.

"She's very annoyed," Cameron commented. "I've got a feeling she's going to badmouth us to the manager."

"Probably," Adam shrugged. "But I'll manage. I've been given bad service here a few times with my old look. It's about time I finally caused a ruckus. It's either that, or mind-rape half the staff."

Cameron snorted.

"I don't know how I feel about being the only one of us at this table not able to do such a thing," Eden commented.

"I can't," Cameron said. "I can just hit them with a battering ram, and you hit me with a hammer!"

Adam grinned at him, the comment clearly directed to him about knocking the younger boy out the night before.

"Eden did tell you why, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Cameron sulked. "Why did that happen?"

"Excuse me?" A man in a sharp suit approached the table. "My waitress said you've been causing problems?"

"Actually," Adam said. "Your waitress pointedly ignored me for forty minutes. I simply commented on it when she approached. If that's me causing problems, then your restaurant has some serious problems, and I'd like to speak with the owner about them."

"Alright," the manager grabbed Adam's arm. "You and your buddies can leave, now."

Adam looked at the manager's hand, then looked back up to the manager.

"You really shouldn't have done that," Adam said. "You just assaulted a minor without cause while discriminating based on age."

The manager began to pull on his arm while starting to order him out, and Adam jerked his arm out of the man's grip, grabbing his wrist and snapping it before grabbing the manager's tie and pulling it, slamming the man's face into the table. He calmly placed a hand on the back of the manager's neck as the other customers began to stare.

"I can assure you," Adam said, not lowering his voice so that the other customers could hear him. "That my father will not hesitate to press charges against you for the assault. Now. You can do one of two things. The first is call your boss, the owner, and let him know what an idiot you've been. The second is to call the police, have statements taken, and get arrested for assaulting a minor. You will pick one of those two, then do them, and then your wrist can be looked at. Am I clear?"

The manager nodded, and Adam released him. The manager hurried to the back of the building, and Adam looked at Eden, who seemed calm, and Cameron, who was panicking, bouncing in his seat and getting ready to take off.

"Don't worry," Adam told Cameron as he began spreading napkins over the table and arranging them. "We won't be kicked out of here. I may have complained to the owner a few times as different kids, and in my last appearance, told him that if the staff continued to touch kids and try to force them out for complaining about crappy service, one of the kids was going to fight back one day. Considering that was actually two days ago… consider this evidence. Here comes the big boss."

A man in a chef's jacket, spattered with bits of food and stains, approached the table, a hat keeping his hair in.

"My manager said you boys had a complaint?" The chef said. "Don't be fooled by the outfit, I'm Henry, the owner."

"Yes," Adam looked up at him. "Your manager attempted to forcibly remove me from the premises when I complained to him about your waitress taking forty minutes just to take my drink order. By the way – we're still waiting for our drinks. I came here with two of my friends to celebrate something, and your staff is ruining the mood. After that assault, I'm half-tempted to tell my dad about it, and he'll sue the crap out of this place for it and the age-based discrimination going on."

"Yes," the owner said. "Well, I'd like to apologize for that. I've been receiving a number of complaints lately. A rather disturbing number, actually. It seems my staff is in serious need of retraining, and I'd be more than happy to comp your meals for you."

The owner assured them he take care of the situation, then left, and Adam smiled at Cameron, who still looked and felt ready to bolt.

"Cam," Adam let out a sigh. "Sometimes, you just need to be blunt and forceful. I didn't really do anything wrong."

"Wh-what would you have done if he didn't agree?" Cameron asked.

"Left, became my dad, and came back," Adam grinned. "Threatened again, and if it didn't work, contact my lawyer."

Cameron looked bewildered, but decided not to comment on it and wait for their drinks. After they received them and their orders were taken, he began performing his ten-minute breathing exercise. As he held his last breath, he began counting the minds around him and looking at how they felt.

Nervous. Giddy. Loving. Bored. Tired. Bored. Giddy. Excited. Calm. Tired. Curious. Amused. Angry. Furious.

He continued his counting and noting until he ran out of breath, then slowly let it out before sucking in a few more.

"Alright," Adam said. "How did you do?"

"I think I did alright?" Cameron asked. "Thirty-four minds in the restaurant."

"That's correct," Adam smiled. "Remember while we're eating, ram away at my mind, but don't make eye contact, and don't look at me unless we're talking. Keep it up for as much as you can. Use your empathy, not your eyes, to direct your assault."

Cameron nodded, then looked over as their waitress arrived with their food. She seemed rather agitated, but he also felt confidence and smugness in her mind. Biting his lower lip, he began to enter her mind.

"You could probably stir up a complaint."

"Yeah, stir up a complaint."

"She totally didn't mark your order as not having mustard."

"Yeah, so it has it."

"Oh, and there's the matter of her opening up, then spitting on, Adam's burger."

"You should mind-rape her."

"She's too beautiful for a mind-rape, maybe-"

"We want the owner," Cameron looked at her, his agitation leaking out as he resisted the urge to hammer away at her mind. "Again. I asked for no mustard, and you intentionally didn't write it down, and you spit on Adam's burger. And our fries don't have any salt, even though none of us asked for them to not be seasoned."

"That's actually a food safety violation," Adam said after he recovered from his shock, looking at the waitress. "Spitting on my food? Seriously? And what if Cameron's deathly allergic to mustard? You could have killed him with that."

"Yeah," Eden said. "Get us the owner again. You can bet your ass that I'm not coming back here, and I'll be telling all of my friends to avoid this place."

The waitress's mind filled with both agitation and smugness higher than what she had before, and Cameron watched as she left, then gave Eden a curious look. His mind was filled with confidence and irritation, but the younger boy could tell there was more to the irritation than just what was going on.

A few minutes later, the chef-owner came back out, and Adam explained their two complaints.

"Nope," the owner said. "I wasn't told no-mustard, and I'm sorry about that."

"Excuse me," Eden smiled at him. "Hi, you probably don't remember me, but we met a few years ago, when I was around eleven. My name's Eden Portman, my parents are Sam and Gina Portman."

The moment Eden introduced himself, Cameron felt the chef-owner's mind grow nervous. Very, very nervous. Eden's agitation spiked when he named his parents, too, and Cameron knew why his friend was so annoyed.

"You can be sure that I'll be telling all of my friends to avoid this place," Eden told the chef-owner. "Though I'll be kind enough to not tell my parents. And make sure that our orders are remade, as we can't eat this."

The chef-owner apologized to the trio again and offered them meal vouchers for the future, though Eden declined his own, stating he didn't want to come back to a place that prided itself on mistreating youth and customers who gave valid complaints. Adam and Cameron still took theirs, and the chef-owner gave them Eden's share of the vouchers.

They were served by a different waitress the rest of their meal, their food replaced, and once they'd finished, the trio left.

"Well," Adam grinned. "That was fun. And lighten up, Cam – sometimes, you have to be like that to get your way."

Then, Adam frowned and looked at Eden.

"Are you really the Portmans' kid?"

"Yeah," Eden looked about as annoyed as his mind felt to Cameron. "I didn't want to have to bring them up, but-"

"Hey," Adam said. "I understand. Not going to lie, I didn't exactly have the best relationship with my parents. Maybe one day, you'll make it up to them, maybe you'll find you never can. Either way, it's all for you, and you don't need to explain it to me."

Adam gave Cameron their meeting point for the next day, then left, and Eden pulled Cameron into an alley and teleported them back to his apartment.

"Are your parents famous or something?" Cameron asked as he mentally poked at something in the apartment.

"My mom's a high-class chef," Eden nodded. "And my dad's a real estate agent. A very successful one."

"Okay," Cameron said. "Soldier's guarding your bed against a fae, I think."

Eden snorted, then teleported out, and Cameron felt him and the fairy leave, then he went into the kitchen to get himself some water. A few minutes later, Eden returned, some blood on his face, neck, and hoodie.

"I'm going to take a shower," Eden told Cameron. "Need to use the bathroom first?"

"Yeah," Cameron realized he really had to go. "Give me a minute."