Willow has always been really careful around me when it comes to Loren Hale and his family. She won’t talk about anything that isn’t already public knowledge, and even then, I can tell she’d still rather be discussing something else. It’s not new for her anymore, but it’s still uncharted territory that she’s trying to navigate by herself.
It’s understandable.
She quickly changes the subject. “Make any new friends?”
“Nope. You?”
“Nope.”
Good.
No, that’s shitty of me to think. Really,I don’t know how I fucking feel about her making friends, okay? Depends who they are, I guess.
The quiet weighs on us for a second, and then I say, “Hey, you know any Latin?”
“Um…just what’s on the back of a dollar bill.” Her eyes drop to my hand as I light a new cigarette. “Your fingers have returned to a normal color.”
“A miracle.” I blow out smoke.
Someone passes the abandoned hall and shakes their head at me. “No smoking inside, man.”
I think he’s just warning me, but then he stops a foot away and unfurls a small booklet. “I’m going to have to write you up.”
“What?” I frown.What the fuck?
“It’s against code of conduct rules.”
“Are you like a hall monitor or something?” I say, confused. Aren’t those only in movies?
“That’s exactly what I am.”
Fuck me.
Willow grimaces as I look back to the phone. “I’ll let you go,” she says quickly. “See you Saturday?”
“Saturday,” I say into a nod and we hang up.
I wait while the hall monitor scribbles on the notepad, and Sasha Ander’s words hound me.Find an exit.
It sounds like an easy task, but I’ve been searching for an exit my entire life and have yet to find it. Someone point the way. Anyone?
Please.
I’m waiting.
23BACK THEN – April
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
GARRISON ABBEY
Age 18
Breaking and entering wasn’t on my list of things to do. Ever. But things change. I slide a paperclip through the keyhole of a deep navy door, scratches and dents marring the steel. Garbage stinks up the alleyway, and cigarette butts line the pavement.
Working at Superheroes & Scones gave me a lot of insight into this place. Like how the left alley door doesn’t have any security cameras. Most of the employees smoke pot and suck face on this stoop. So I’m not even sweating as I take my time with the lock. The pitch-black night conceals me enough.
Honestly, I just need a place to sleep tonight. A warm floor. That’s it.
