“Mr. Mayhew. Mr. Smith. Good morning.”
I wiped the puke off my chin, only to see Guard Asshole smirking at me. He was standing at the door with two more guards who looked equally amused. At that point, Adam raised his head, looking groggy and disoriented.
“I apologize for the interruption, gentlemen,” Guard Asshole said. “It’s time for a cell search.”
Things went from bad to worse to catastrophic in mere seconds. I scrambled to my feet, leaning against the wall because I felt as if I were about to faint. Adam stood up too, but I could see the muscle in his jaw twitching, which wasn’t a good sign.
“Do you have an explanation for this?” Guard Asshole pointed at the mattresses on the floor.
“They have been warned before.” One of his colleagues informed him.
Guard Asshole chuckled. “Is that so? Perhaps these two lovebirds weren’t introduced to the rules of our establishment. Were they introduced to the rules of our establishment, Guard Douglas?”
“Yes, sirree.”
“So, they know that disobeying those rules could result in punishment?”
“Yes, sirree.”
“What’s this?” Guard Douglas said, shoving a plastic bottle in my face. “And don’t tell me it’s shampoo.”
“It’s a hair conditioner, actually,” Adam said coolly.
Guard Asshole sneered. “So, you’re a comedian, too? Not just a lowlife, a criminal, and a dumb son of a bitch, but also a comedian.”
“Yes, siree,” Adam said, making my throat tighten because… why was he provoking him?
“Funny guy. Are you responsible for the contraband in that bottle?”
“Yes, I am,” Adam replied.
“No!” I exclaimed, stumbling toward them. “I was the—”
“Shut up, weirdo!” Adam snapped, throwing a towel at me. “Stop embarrassing me and wipe that puke off your face.”
“That’s it,” Guard Asshole growled, snapping his fingers. “Cuff the comedian and take him to the hole. He needs a day or two to cool off.”
I was sure I would barf again as I watched the guards handcuff Adam and take him out of the cell. After they were gone, I plopped down on the bunk because my legs gave out. First, I was stupid enough to smuggle booze into our cell, causing this disaster. Second, Adam took the fall for me, which made me feel like the worst person in the world. Third, whywould he do that? If anyone deserved solitary confinement, it was me, not him.
After breakfast, which I didn’t touch because I felt sick inside and out, they sent me to the kitchen. Miguel wasn’t there, so I couldn’t take it out on him, since I blamed him for this nightmare. I kept glancing at the clock as the moments dragged on, but it was probably a lullaby compared to how Adam felt.
After lunch, which I didn’t eat because I was still nauseous, came visiting time. I saw Mendoza on the way to the visitors’ hall, which meant Biancchi was keeping his promise. It made me feel marginally better, but Adam’s absence was a constant reminder of my fuck-up. In the afternoon, they sent me to the yard, where Miguel found me pacing from wall to wall like a lunatic.
“Yo,cabrón,” he said, grinning. “Did you have a good time last night?”
“I will kill you, Miguel!” I hissed, suppressing the need to punch him. “You have no idea what you caused.”
He blinked. “Que?”
“I got drunk, Adam got drunk, and then we fell asleep. In the morning, the guards searched our cell, and now Adam is in the hole because of me. And because of you.”
Miguel shrugged. “I didn’t push that sweet nectar down your throat,cabrón.”
“I know, but it makes me feel better when I have someone else to blame,” I admitted, rubbing my forehead in frustration. “How could I have been so stupid? And please don’t call it sweet nectar. I puked the soul out of my body, and I’m walking around with a metaphorical axe stuck in my skull.”
“Hehe, it takes time to get used to the good stuff,” Miguel joked. “My aunt calls it the truth serum.”
“The truth serum,” I snorted, only to freeze on the spot. Something about his words didn’t sound right. I racked my braintrying to figure out what, when a fragment of a memory flashed through my mind.
