“Yeah, leftovers from bunnies.”
“Bunnies?” She pulls out a light blue sweater and holds it against her front to check for size.
“Club bunnies. I don’t know how they lose their clothes when they stay over, but that’s supposedly where it all came from.”
“Oh, I get what you mean,” Jami says. “The party girls. The Kin call them fuck whores.”
“That’s us,” Crystal says from her bunk. “The fuck whores.”
Yikes. “I hate that they call you that.”
Jami shrugs. “It was fun until it wasn’t.”
“You were with a guy named Halo, right?”
She sighs. “Yeah. I doubt he’ll come for me. He didn’t seem all that attached, given he poked her right before the raid.” She tilts her head at Crystal.
“In front of you?” I can’t even imagine that scene. I shift my gaze to the other girl, but she has her eyes closed again.
“We were both kind of out of it.” Jami tunnels through a mile of tiny skirts and lace bras to find a pair of flower-embroidered jeans. “These are pretty.”
“I think they’d fit you.”
“Can I shower?”
“Totally. I’ll show you where.”
We walk through the rows of bunks. Crystal doesn’t say anything as we pass.
I show Jami the bathroom. “So, hey, Iron Jack thinks it’s best if you stay here a while, as long as you want to. We can use the help, and it doesn’t seem like the Kin were the best, well, fit, I guess.”
“You mean they treated us like shit.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I didn’t want to say it.
“Sure. For a bit, maybe.”
“You have family? Somewhere to go?”
Jami shrugs. “Not really. I left home at seventeen. I could go back, but I don’t think I want to.”
“Well, you’re welcome here. There’s shampoo and stuff in there. Maybe not a toothbrush, but we could probably pick one up.”
“I’ll manage,” she says. “Thanks.”
I back away.
I wonder if it will even work to keep them both here, if there’s any bad blood between them over Halo.
I hurry to the kitchen to cook up a bunch of pasta and garlic bread for everyone who’s around. By the time it’s all served, I have to rush to be ready for Merrick to pick me up.
What to wear?
The madness of last night means Betz hasn’t been bored and told me what to wear. And maybe moving out of the bunks means she won’t treat me like a dress-up hoochie.
I open my suitcase. Is two weeks of living here worth hanging everything up? I didn’t do that in the bunks because the big closet in the back was already full of stuff, and I didn’t want to mix mine in.
But maybe I could do that here.
