Page 62 of Broken Pieces
No bunks stacked three high, no kids fighting over space that never belonged to us. Just four walls and a door that shuts.
It’s almost clean compared to everything I’ve known. I drop the backpack in the corner, no blanket needed to hide it, no hands waiting to pry it open and steal what’s inside. The laundry bag thuds down beside it.
The silence presses in, but it doesn’t feel empty. It’s solid. It’s a fucking chance.
Dolores won’t notice as long as the check keeps showing up. The state won’t care. School never gave me anything but hours to kill and rules to break. This is my shot, if I can keep my head down and make it stick.
But behind all of it sits Skylar.
The first girl who ever made me feel something I couldn’t shut off. She doesn’t know I’m gone yet. When she figures it out, she’ll think I used her. She’ll hate me, and that’s the way it has to be. Hate will keep her out of reach.
I move towards the bathroom with the steel door.
Inside, a bare fluorescent tube hums above, spilling hard white light over cracked tiles and rust-stained sinks.
I twist the tap.
Cold water gushes out. I lean in and splash it over my face. The chill bites into my skin, slides down my neck, and soaks into the collar of my shirt.
For a second, it shocks me awake. I cup my hands, take a quick drink.
Rainer’s workshop waits below, the clink of tools pulling me forward.
Downstairs, the workshop hums with low music from a radio buried somewhere in the back. Rainer’s at the bench, torch lit, sparks spitting as he fuses metal.
I hang back a few feet, waiting him out.
A moment later, the torch dies with a hiss. He pushes the goggles up, eyes shifting to me.
“Room okay?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Better than okay.”
He wipes his hands on a rag and nods once. “Good. You look like you haven’t slept.”
“I haven’t.”
Rainer leans back against the bench, arms crossing over his chest.
“What’s on your mind, kid?”
The air thick with oil and heat is heavy in my throat when I drag in a breath.
“The apprenticeship you talked about. You said it starts when I’m eighteen.”
“That’s the deal.”
“What if I start now?” The words are out before I can stop them. “I’m done with school. Been done for a long time. I just need a reason to stay out.”
Rainer studies me without a word. His gaze is steady, weighing me, no pity in it, no disgust either. Nothing but measuring.
“You’re still on the books. State won’t let you quit before you’re eighteen unless you’ve got a job lined up.”
“I’m standing in a workshop with a job lined up.” My teeth grind together. “I’ll work. I’ll be here every day. I’ll learn whatever you throw at me. You won’t have to babysit me. Just give me a shot.”
His mouth twitches, a ghost of a smile. “You in trouble?”
“No.” My eyes flick away, then back to his. “I’m done. That’s it.”
