Waggling my eyebrows at him, I turned and headed for the door. Now that I had a plan that didn’t solely rely on me convincing Lon Wiseback to move Peter into the medical dorms, I was excited to get home, shower, and haul ass back to Trident Falls… and Peter.
8
Peter
Brandon underlineda string of numbers on the whiteboard and the marker made a squeaking noise that had me squinting my eyes. “Now, none of that should be completely new information. Is anyone confused?” He spun and flashed his friendly smile out over the group of us sitting in his class. His short hair appeared freshly cut, and his squeaky-clean clothes didn’t have a wrinkle or stain from the perfectly pressed collar of his short-sleeved white button-down to the tips of his brown leather boots.
Embarrassment washed through me. I ran my left hand down the sweatpants that covered my thigh, then grasped the material over my knee. I had the pencil gripped so tight in my right hand I thought it might snap. “Come on. There are no bad questions.” He glanced around. “Anyone?”
I cast a sneaky peek at the men seated at desks on either side of me, but no one else was saying anything. “I guess I’m the only one,” I grumbled. “I have no clue what you’re talking about with that equation stuff.”
The man to my left let out a long rush of air that sounded like a tire deflating. “Nah, I don’t fuckin’ know, either.”
My shoulders unclenched as laughter ruffled through the room. I darted a glance at Brandon, but he only nodded, undeterred. “That’s fine. I’ll go through the problem slower this time. For those of you hoping to take your high school equivalency, this is on there. I have no problems explaining these things one-on-one.”
He turned back to the whiteboard and a relief so strong my head swam with it pounded through me. The guy to my left who’d been as clueless as me smiled and slapped my shoulder in a friendly way, and I nearly fell over. I nodded at him. Brandon rambled while I looked down at my paper and then straightened up. This had already been a weird fucking morning.
Brandon had come to get me from the medical dorms because he was Chief fucking Goody-goody, and while I wanted to scoff at that, all I felt was grateful. Two goons I thought maybe were following me on Black’s orders had made their way behind us from the medical wing all the way to the classroom. Brandon had stopped inside the door to watch them pass, and they’d stared right at him with nasty smiles and ignored me.
Once they were gone, he’d let out an unhappy groan as if he knew them.
But it was worse than he’d imagined because I’d spotted an AS tattoo on the tallest one’s neck, and it stood to reason the other one might have one somewhere, too. And so, the AS and Tatum Black knew where I was, and I knew they were watching me. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but also exhilarating not to be hiding in my house anymore, drinking away the fear and memories. My heart fluttered with anxiety, and I tried to tune in to what Brandon was saying up front. He turned around again with a smile and looked directly at me.
I held up my hands in frustration. This was the same shit that used to happen to me in school. Whatever was bothering me or going on would drown out the rest of the world. I slapped a hand to the desk in frustration.
“It’s okay,” he said, patting the air in my direction as if he could tamp down my anger. “We can check in on this again tomorrow. It’s nearly lunchtime. Why don’t we leave it here? Good job, everyone.”
The men began shuffling out of their seats, and I grasped the walker I’d used to get here earlier. It had been optimistic of me not to bring the chair, and I steeled myself as I stood. It was pure pride that had driven my stupidity. I wanted to impress Drew today. Without the constant drinking, my body was feeling stronger, and I’d been noticing the difference all along, but my strength still wasn’t anywhere near what it once had been, and that got to me as I stood with my knees shaking. I closed my eyes and tucked a notebook that Brandon had given me under my arm. Carefully I moved the walker and shuffled forward.
My muscles ached and burned. Grim determination had me taking another step, then another.
“Do you want me to walk with you?” Brandon asked, giving me a knowing glance. He was worried, and I had to wonder who had talked to him to set him in motion this morning. Was it Drew? Had Brandon figured out for himself that something was wrong?
“No, it’s not that far.”
“Of course.” He smiled at me like he wanted to tell me I was being an ass, only he was too nice to say it, and instead he turned and went back to his desk.
I got outside the classroom and was surprised when a man stood leaning against the wall to the right, and it took me a second to put together he was the guy who’d been confused in class along with me. He had short brown hair, the kind that would tickle my fingers if I ran them over the strands, a narrow chin, and blazing blue eyes. He was cute, but he had a look to him like he’d missed too many meals in his lifetime and he’d never quite caught up with it—a little too pale and a little too thin.
“Hey.” He stuck out his hand, and I stood up away from my grip on the walker enough to take it, mostly because I was so surprised. We shook. “Name’s Laken Miller. I’m new inside this week.”
“Congratulations on winning the shit lottery?” I murmured and started pushing myself toward the cafeteria. He paced me, which had me holding in a sigh. I thought about snapping at the kid. He seemed younger than Angel, though, and my conscience gave a twang when I wound up to spit something mean at him. Why bother? I could use the truth to drive him off and he’d stay safe.
“There’s someone trying to kill me in here, so you might not want to be friends with me,” I said.
He gasped. “Is that why you’re bruised to hell?”
All I had to do was nod, and his mouth fell open.
Laken’s eyes snapped wide, and he straightened up to rest his hands on his bony hips. Only then did I realize he was taller than me. “Really? What did you do? Are you in one of the gangs in here?” His thick brows furrowed, and he looked about ready to piss himself.
Shaking my head, I laughed. “No. It’s complicated.”
He huffed out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, you want complicated? I was a prospect for the Warriors right before they broke apart. There’s a price on my head if anyone knows that.” He grinned at me. “I ain’t afraid.”
“You ain’t smart, either. One, why would you tell me, then? And two—” I was about to say something mean—okay, meaner—but it was painfully obvious he wanted someone to glom onto, and the guy with the walker probably seemed the least scary in the whole prison. Little did he know. I swallowed down my nasty words. “Just keep it to yourself. It’s a lot easier to hide if no one knows who you are and that they should want to fuck you up.”
He tilted his head, and his lips cocked into a crooked smile. “Oh, well, that makes sense.”
