When I reach the yard, I hug the walls. I don’t realize that there’s someone waiting in my cell until I’m at the door. It’s Connor. He stands when I enter, asking if I’m okay. I wave him away, groaning as I climb up to my bunk. I lay down with my arms dangling off the bed.
“You know better. I’m fine. I’m always fine,” I say.
“You have blood on your clothes.” I hear him sit back down. “Did you hurt him?” I smile. I scoot forward, feeling in the open air under my bunk. He catches my hand and guides it to his head. I gently run my fingertips over his hair before letting my hand come to rest on top of his head.
“No,” I breathe. “I didn’t do anything. He ruptured my liver and I had to fix it before I bled out. It would be embarrassing if I’d died …show more content…
Kevin’s shit-eating grin doesn’t waver. He leans down and brushes my hair back. I suppress an uncomfortable shiver.
“Punch him. As hard as you can,” he murmurs. My eyes widen and I hesitate. I glance across the cell at my best friend and, nearly imperceptibly, he nods. I take it as a sign of both acceptance and pre-emptive forgiveness.
Before Kevin can say it again, I step out of his arms and put as much power behind my swing as possible. I close my eyes, unwilling to witness my fist connect.
It doesn’t, though. Someone grabs my arm and jerks me back at the last second. My eyes fly open and my eyes sting with unshed tears. I spin around to redirect my attack, but the interloper grabs hold of my other arm to keep me still. I vaguely hear Kevin groaning in irritation.
“Whoa, haven’t you done enough of that today?” I recognise Donovan’s voice and stop struggling against him immediately. At least he isn’t a giant asshole, like Kevin. He lets go, and I retreat to the far end of the cell. I try to calm myself as the boys argue behind me. I stare at my shaking hands, at the dried blood under my nails.
I’m not a monster yet. I have much farther to go before I can claim that title. I mutter it to myself until the words from behind me start trickling
“You know better. I’m fine. I’m always fine,” I say.
“You have blood on your clothes.” I hear him sit back down. “Did you hurt him?” I smile. I scoot forward, feeling in the open air under my bunk. He catches my hand and guides it to his head. I gently run my fingertips over his hair before letting my hand come to rest on top of his head.
“No,” I breathe. “I didn’t do anything. He ruptured my liver and I had to fix it before I bled out. It would be embarrassing if I’d died …show more content…
Kevin’s shit-eating grin doesn’t waver. He leans down and brushes my hair back. I suppress an uncomfortable shiver.
“Punch him. As hard as you can,” he murmurs. My eyes widen and I hesitate. I glance across the cell at my best friend and, nearly imperceptibly, he nods. I take it as a sign of both acceptance and pre-emptive forgiveness.
Before Kevin can say it again, I step out of his arms and put as much power behind my swing as possible. I close my eyes, unwilling to witness my fist connect.
It doesn’t, though. Someone grabs my arm and jerks me back at the last second. My eyes fly open and my eyes sting with unshed tears. I spin around to redirect my attack, but the interloper grabs hold of my other arm to keep me still. I vaguely hear Kevin groaning in irritation.
“Whoa, haven’t you done enough of that today?” I recognise Donovan’s voice and stop struggling against him immediately. At least he isn’t a giant asshole, like Kevin. He lets go, and I retreat to the far end of the cell. I try to calm myself as the boys argue behind me. I stare at my shaking hands, at the dried blood under my nails.
I’m not a monster yet. I have much farther to go before I can claim that title. I mutter it to myself until the words from behind me start trickling