“Well,” she says, preparing to leave. “It’s been fun.” Waggling her fingers in our general direction, she trots off, leaving a trail of infatuated hearts in her wake.
It seems my last few months in juvie just got a whole lot more interesting.
2
Zeta
I’m shaking all over as I jog away from the boys. Blood thrums in my ears, and my heart is racing scarily fast behind my ribcage. I can’t believe I just did that. And I know exactly what I’ve done.
Drawn a target on my back.
But I knew coming in here that that would happen anyway, and it’s better to take the opening shot than wait for the bullet to come at me. I suppose if there’s anything I can thank my mother for, it’s my ability to swim in a sea full of sharks.
I’m under no illusion about my future. If I can’t navigate juvie, I’ll never survive adult prison.
When I kept my mouth shut, I hadn’t factored that into my planning. I thought juvie would be my ticket to freedom, but instead, it’s my ticket to hell. It’s all happened so fast that I haven’t had time to come to terms with this new reality, let alone consider how I can extricate myself from the longer-term mess.
All that mattered was getting away from that asshole. In that moment, when it became evident that he was going to pin all the blame on me, that was the only thought playing on a loop in my mind. I couldn’t stay there with him on my own. I would never have made it to eighteen alive.
So, I’m here, and I’ll have to think up some way of avoiding the consequences.
But, for now, it’s one day at a time. One step at a time. One minor victory at a time.
* * *
The gorgeous onesends sly looks my way while I force-feed myself the sweet and sour pork the cafeteria is attempting to pass off as dinner. A few guys have tried to sit beside me, but I shooed them away with a glare, a snarl, and a few harsh words. The only other girls in this place are loyal to that skank. They shoot filthy looks my way, but I purposely ignore them, knowing it’ll piss them off even more. As the only girls in the coed unit, it means I’ll be sharing a pod with them, but at least I’ll have my own cell. Until someone new arrives, if that happens.
I take a sneaky look at the gorgeous one while I sip my milk through a straw. He’s talking to a younger boy at his side, smiling at something he says, and I can tell he cares about him.
One of the good things about being a loner is you learn to read people well. My people-watching used to drive Mom insane. She constantly chastised me, saying I preferred observing random strangers than engaging in conversation. What she didn’t realize is that I never wanted to engage in conversation withher.
Why would I?
What the fuck did she ever do for me?
Besides bring me into this world, not a hell of a lot.
I’m gritting my teeth so hard I break through the straw, and little drops of milk splash my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the table of girls laughing at me.Are we back in kindergarten?If that’s how easily they’re amused, maybe this won’t be as bad as I fear. Ignoring the urge to roll my eyes, I pretend I don’t notice, dabbing at my face with a paper towel.
I feel the gorgeous one’s eyes on me again. There’s just something about him that commands my attention. Something I can’t put my finger on. It’s embarrassing to admit, even to myself, how captivated I am with him. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before, but, I swear, the instant our eyes met, I felt something spark to life inside me.
A connection?
A bond?
A shared understanding?
A mutual dark side?
I don’t know how to explain it or describe it, other than it confuses, scares, and excites me, all at the same time.
And I know what you’re thinking. It’s just because he’s hot.
But it’s not that. It really isn’t. I mean, yes, he’s fucking hot, undeniably so with that ripped body, messy dirty-blond hair, and those dazzling eyes. They’re like a mix of yellow, orange, and brown with a faint green tint, and when he looked at me, I drowned in his gaze, zoning out as some weird vibe erupted between us.
And now I sound like one of those mushy romance books I love to read. Not the smutty ones. I’ve seen enough of that in real life to avoid reading anything similar. I prefer to read the overtly romantic ones where they’re all subtle glances, shy touches, and sweet kisses. Inside, I laugh at myself, imagining I’ve wandered into my own love story.
As if those really exist.
