Day Twenty-Eight

Day Twenty-Eight

In my dream, I'm floating in someone's pool. The water is warm and nice, so it must be summer, maybe July, when it gets so hot pools heat up and even by nighttime they're still warm when you step in. Someone is whispering to me from across the pool, but I can't see who it is and I don't know why they don't just shout.

Then I'm not dreaming. I'm awake. The room is dark, filled with the sounds of my roommates breathing softly in their sleep, and Charlotte is peering down at me, a grin on her face.

"Come," she says. "Come with me. I want to show you something. You can't say no, okay? It's very special. But be quiet. "

"Where?" I ask.

"Just come on, silly girl. Change your clothes first, though. We're going outside."

Her teeth shine brightly in the dark room.

—

In the hall, she pauses, looking both ways. The night person is way down to the left, headphones on, staring at her laptop. Charlotte creeps to the right and pulls me with her, toward the exit at the other end of the hall. As we near it, she puts a finger to her lips.

"I don't want to get in trouble," I whisper as low as possible.

"Shut up," she says. "It's fine. I've done it before."

At the end of the hall, she pushes gently on the door until it gives and only opens it the merest amount, just enough for us to slip through. When I'm out, she holds it carefully until it latches back into place with a soft click.

My heart kind of spikes when I hear that click. Can we even get back in? Don't these doors lock behind you at night? There must be some sort of alarm—

Charlotte looks at me. "I know what you're thinking. I'll just say we couldn't sleep and went to the Star Pit and forgot to tell whatever-her-name-is in there. The new one. Do you even remember her name?"

She giggles.

I think a minute. "Lisa. Her name is Lisa. But what about bed check? What if they do a bed check?"

She shrugs. "Same story. Plus, that's not for a few hours yet. And that one, that Lisa. I've been watching her. She's been forgetting bed checks lately. I think she forgot about Gideon. Just follow me."

She skirts around the edge of the dorm building and heads toward the Star Pit, which relieves me, because if we do get in trouble, sure, we can say we went there. It shouldn't be too bad. I mean, I only have two days left. They can't kick me out for sitting outside and looking at the stars and talking. I made it through Fire. I've made it.

But Charlotte turns right, veering away from the path to the Star Pit, toward the goat and chicken pen.

My stomach is in knots. I stop walking.

"Charlotte," I whisper. "I don't like this."

She ignores me.

It's really cold out here. I should have put on my mittens and hat.

I run after her.

—

She opens the latch to the goat pen and I follow her, stepping carefully so I don't walk in shit, though I realize that's probably impossible. Charlotte takes my hand, pulling me forward across their enclosure, into the area where the chickens are nestled in their boxes, plump and sleeping. Their heat lamps are on. It's warmer in here.

Charlotte leads me back to where the feed buckets and supplies are.

I rub my cold hands together.

Charlotte is fiddling with the padlock to the door where the Feed Dude stacks the bags of feed and bundles of hay and grass.

She looks back at me, her eyes shining. "Easy-peasy."

She's holding up a paper clip. She slips it into her pocket, pulls open the door, and disappears inside.

This is not good. I just got out of Seg.

"I'm going to go back," I whisper. "I'll just tell them the Star Pit thing and—"

Charlotte emerges from the darkness of the supply room, grinning. She opens her jacket.

In the inside pocket on the left side, the top of a bottle peeks out.

The goats stir in their beds, bleat softly.

"No," I say. "No, Charlotte."

I'm panicking. My voice is high-pitched. I start to sweat a little, even though I'm shivering.

"Don't be such a baby," she says. "You can just sit with me. For a little while. Please. "

I shake my head.

"Fine." Her voice has changed. It's harder. "Be that way. I thought you were my friend. I thought we made up. I thought you, of all people, would at least hang out with me."

"Charlotte, I don't want to get in trouble."

She waves a hand. "Oh, please. You're the baby of the group. You had some slips, but they aren't going to kick you out or anything. They didn't even kick you out after you attacked me! You did nothing compared to what people have done here to get kicked out. You have two days. Trust me. I'm lonely. I just want someone to talk to. I'm getting out tomorrow. I've put up with a lot of bullshit here and I deserve this."

She walks away from me and sits on the ground, puts the bottle in front of her.

"I don't care. Just go. It's not even my thing, you know. Drinking. So it's not a big deal. I haven't done any of the stuff I wasn't supposed to while I was here, so what rule am I really breaking anyway?"

She shoves her back against the wall of the pen, kicks a boot against the ground.

"I just want someone to talk to. You don't have to do it. I won't make you. What, you can't even, like, be around it?"

I'm looking at the bottle. It's not vodka. It's something else, something brown. She unscrews the cap and takes a long drink. She coughs a little.

Then she closes her eyes and leans against the wall again.

I can see what's happening inside her from the outside. The way her shoulders loosen inside her parka. The muscles of her round face getting softer. I can feel the warmth spreading inside her as whatever it is makes its way around. Probably a little sizzle in her mouth.

My face gets hot. I…think I can taste that sizzle, too.

"No one understands what it's like, you know? I mean, people who aren't us, " she says quietly.

I'm being pulled in a thousand different directions. Seg. Two days left here. Made it through Fire, the last thing. The very last thing. Didn't I do everything they wanted? I did make it. I did last. Doesn't that prove that nothing is really wrong with me, if I could make it through? And if I did make it through all these days, well, I can do it out there, too. I'll just have to be careful.

But right now, right here, it's right here.

My brain says: Stop thinking, Bella.

And that is the only thing I hear, because my heart is eerily silent.

I walk to Charlotte in a kind of vibrating fog, each part of me alert and focused. I'm me, but not me. I am just a thing who wants one thing.

I understand what Fran was talking about in group now, when she had all those months and one day she went down an alley like in a dream and ended it all.

—

I cough. Charlotte laughs. My mouth feels singed; a thousand sparks go off in my throat and everything lands inside me with a fiery explosion of pleasure and heat.

—

"What did I do," I say. "What have I done."

Charlotte laughs. "It'll go away after a few more. That's the nice thing. It makes you feel bad at first, but then it takes it away. And isn't that the best thing, when all the bad goes away?"

—

Yes.

—

The goats eye us curiously. Charlotte pulls out her phone. Giggles over videos. Texts her friends. Shows me memes.

"We should go," I whisper. "That's enough."

I take a few more sips.

It's hitting me a little hard. I waver, even though I'm sitting down.

"Your tolerance is shot," Charlotte says, pulling on the sleeve of my parka back toward her. "You'll have to build that back up when you're on the outside."

Things are getting a little fuzzy. Her voice sounds like we're underwater.

"Where did you even get this?" I ask, my words blurry in my mouth.

She laughs.

Charlotte made friends with the Feed Dude. That's why she always wanted to be the one to help him unload. That's why it was always Charlotte's job. A little flirting here, an exchange of money there, why should he even care? It's just a job to him. He doesn't care about anyone here. People need money. What's it to him? He puts a little smiley face on the bag that has the bottle. She's been picking locks for years. Her parents locked things up to keep her safe and she figured out how to unlock them with a few videos on YouTube, to keep herself the way she needed to be. She's been doing this off and on for weeks now. She isn't stupid. She figured out the pattern of urine tests and blood tests. She took her chances. Rolled the dice, so to speak.

"I'm getting out," she says after a while. "I have to prep myself. This is just a little last celebration, and I'm spending it with you. Isn't that cool? When you get out, we'll hang out. I'll take you to the mall. We'll use my dad's credit card. He loves that. Let's go to Claire's!"

She fingers her naked earlobes wistfully.

"I can't wait to be me again," she murmurs.

"God, I hate this world," she says.

"Take it easy." She giggles. "Don't overdo it. I don't want you to break your face again."

—

The chickens look so pert and fluffy in their boxes. The pen smells musty. What time is it? That night person surely must be doing bed checks by now.

But all those worries are muted in me, now.

I have missed this.

—

I try to stand up, because I have to pee, but my body is jelly.

—

Charlotte is standing above me, looking at me intently.

She snaps her fingers.

"Hey," she says. "Bella. Hey."

I look at her. Both of her. The two Charlottes flitting in front of me. I blink.

"I'm going outside to pee. I'll be right back, okay?"

She picks up the bottle. I reach for it.

"Uh-uh," she says. "Don't worry. I'll be back. Sit tight."

"Charlotte," I call, my voice thin and soft. "Charlotte, are you really going to set fire to your dad's car when you get out? I don't think he'll let us use his credit card at Claire's if you do."

She turns back to me and winks.

"That's for me to know and you to find out."

—

She doesn't come back for a long time.

—

And then longer.

—

I can't get up. I am jelly, water, soft bone, squish, becoming small and invisible in this pen of animals. A goat wanders over and nestles my leg with its damp nose. Soft. Soft fur. Sleepy. Me and the goat are sleepy.

Please come back, Charlotte.

I.