Page 94 of Shadowman
Clearing my throat, I remind myself to act normally in front of the prison cool kids, stowing my issues to obsess over later. Fiddling with the towel around my waist, I mumble to Byron, “Maybe I’ll see you around…”
I turn and shuffle off before he can react, kicking myself inside for being a bloody oddball. I hear the lot of them conversing again once I’ve left, and it sets a longing in my chest… For friends.Companionship.
Anything to distract from how loathsome my life is.
I’m dressing, all the while peeking left and right in search of Leo.
“Just show yourself,” I grumble under my breath. “I know you’re here…”
Of course, he doesn’t answer. It’s so typical of him to behave this way. To vanish as soon as the going gets tough and make me sort it all out on my own.
Officer Jameson and another guard, whose name I haven’t gotten yet—tall lad with shaggy hair and a baby face—order us all to gather up and leave the showers. And as much as I’d like to hang back and try speaking to Byron some more, I’m not in the mood to be barked at by his guard dog friend.
I’m feeling pensive as I march out of the showers behind the tall guard, practically mowing him down to get out of there. I just want to go back to my cell.Maybe then Leo will show up.
Gaze stuck on my shoes, I walk along with the herd, although, clearly, they don’t see it that way. I’m an outsider, thenew guy.
I’m not one of them. I don’t fit in…
What else is new?
It was the same way in Kings County JDC—the juvenile detention center I was in for two years before Riverwoods. We all may have technically been “children” according to the state of New York, but it felt every bit like an adult prison. Therewere cells—though much bigger and nicer than these—and rules. Discipline and routine being hammered into you until it begins happening like muscle memory. And there were definitelycliques.
In juvie, I was able to make a couple of fair-weather friends, more acquaintances than anything. But just like on the outside, it never sticks. I’m too socially awkward to make friends. People see me and assume I’m a creep, or a weirdo. Andyes, both of those descriptors are accurate, but there must be other creeps and weirdos out there for me to befriend, right?
If ever there was a place for freaks and losers to come together, it would be here. And yet, I’m still an outcast.
Give it time. Comic Con wasn’t built in a day.
We come through the doors that lead to the rows of cells in general population, and Officer Jameson strides up, grabbing onto my arm. “You good?” She’s speaking to the other guard. His name tag saysHancock.
He simply nods, bringing the rest of the inmates through the next door, while the stern female guard tugs me in the direction of my cell.
My eyes linger over my shoulder, watching as they all file through, searching for one inmate in particular. But Officer Jameson shoves me and barks, “Keep up.”
See you later, Byron… Have a good night.
Same shit, different day.
The official slogan of prison.
I feel like so much of my time is spent shuffling from one drab room to another. Although I will say, ever since whatever mysteriousfalling outVelle had with the Warden, it seems like we’ve been able to move about more freely than before.
I don’t know if the lockdown has officially been lifted, but stuff is slowly trickling in again. The guards are more buoyant. Overall, it’s seeming as if things have returned to normal…I mean, as normal as they were before Dash showed up.
To me, though, it doesn’t mean dick. My cellmate is still gone, myfriendstill dead. And my other friends still don’t care. So I’m walking around salty.
I refuse to admit it, because admitting weakness isn’t in my nature, but for the first time in nearly three years, this place is getting to me just the tiniest bit. For once, I’d like to go somewhere,anywherethat isn’t my cell, the caf, or the showers. I’d like to eat some different food, listen to new music. I’d like to see some new faces.
At that thought, I glance up.I suppose there is one new face…
Trevel Fenwick.The new guy. 102…
He’s been here for a few days, and he’s somehow managing to cause a stir without so much as lifting a finger. Or even looking at anyone, for that matter.
Ren doesn’t trust him—I know, right? If that’s not the pot calling the kettle black.Luthor seems indifferent about the whole thing, butRenthinks the guy is suspicious. Though he’s yet to elaborate on exactlywhy. Even the brain trust—that’s Rook, Velle, and Joy—are wary of the mysterious new inmate, yet the dude’s barely made a sound.
Sure, he introduced himself to us when he first got here, and then I spoke to him again the other day for all of five seconds. It was hardly a profound conversation, but still. I just don’t see it… Why they all hate him so much. He doesn’tdoanything.
