The few hours we had together went by fast and then Quincy had to go. He hugged me and I made sure to avoid his lips in case he got any more bright ideas. I made the short walk back to the loft and Drew showed up ten minutes later. He was exhausted from basketball practice.
“Okay, being suspended sucks,” I groaned, “There’s nothing to do here all day.”
“That’s what happens when you become a rebel without a cause,” he laughed, kissing me on the lips, “You went to Starbucks?”
I followed his gaze over to the coffee cup on the kitchen counter, “Yeah, um, Quincy wanted to talk so I had him meet me there after school.”
Drew’s head whipped in my direction. He looked me over from head to toe, “Why would you want to see Quincy?” He asked.
“To settle things between us before I go back to Candor.”
“What makes you think you’re going back there?”
“Because Em told me my dad called them.”
I didn’t want to explain that they were waiting for me to come back home because it didn’t matter. And I didn’t want Drew trying to jump through hoops to save me. He’s already done enough for me.
“Look, we’ll talk to your dad when you get home and we’ll make him understand.”
There will be no talking. As soon as I step foot onto my family’s property I will be cuffed and taken back to Candor...
Still, I couldn’t tell him that. He wouldn’t understand.
“Okay,” I flashed him a fake smile.
Drew showed me how to make fried chicken, rice and corn. We ate like pigs. He’s almost as good a cook as my mom. Almost. But I didn’t need to tell him that. His head is big enough as it is.
“Did Kim say anything to you today?” I asked.
“Yeah. She apologized to me for what went down and what’s happened to you.”
“Yeah right,” I scoffed, “she’s just trying to get back into your good graces.”
“Well I believe her.”
There’s no way he could possibly believe her. Kim’s sole mission in life right now is to get him back. Once I’m successfully removed from the picture, I’m sure she’ll be turning up the charm. And judging by the look on his face, he’s probably going to fall for it.
I want to yell at him for being stupid enough to even think about going back to her. That girl is nothing but drama. All she’ll do is drag him down. And she isn’t using her body or her brains to keep him compliant. She’s manipulating him emotionally into dealing with her. She’s playing the love struck victim, catering to his ego, meanwhile using it against him. In his mind he probably thinks she can’t help but be so in love with him because he’s THAT unforgettable.
He can be so narcissistic…
I want to tell him she’s playing him, but once I leave for Candor, he’ll be free to do whatever he wants anyway. And for the second time I swallow my words.
Silently I watch him have this internal war with himself about it. Whether he should admit to me what I already know. He and Kim will more than likely get back together once I’m gone.
I now realize something about Drew I never have before. When he doesn’t want to think about something he uses girls as a distraction so he doesn’t have to feel anything. And Kim, she’s just the first girl to find a way to make him feel bad about it enough to stick around out of pity. Even if it won’t last.
We ate dinner together and then Drew showered to get ready for his game tonight. The first game ever I wouldn’t be there to cheer him on. He kissed me before he left and in the few hours after he was gone, I wrote him a letter explaining everything that’s going to happen when my time is up. I included the address to the school and specific instructions on what to do if he ever stops hearing from me.
After sealing the envelope and putting a stamp on it, I mailed the letter to Drew’s home address. He should get it the day after I’m gone if all goes according to plan.
Drew’s game ended around nine at night. He texted me shortly after to tell me everyone was going by tops. I really wanted to be there, but this was my life now. And soon, not seeing my friends would be the least of my worries.
I fell asleep on the sofa instead and Drew woke me up later bearing gifts. He handed me a quart of my favorite yogurt laced with my favorite toppings.
“You remembered,” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.
“Yeah.”
“Who all was there?”
“Everyone.”
“Kim?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he nodded, reluctantly.
“Of course she was,” I sighed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
I turned my attention back to the television while Drew sat watching me eat my ice cream. He tried kissing me, but I wasn’t in an affectionate mood. Maybe it was my mind guarding my heart, or maybe I was preparing myself for what’s to come, but I didn’t want him to touch me.
That’s a first…
Thankfully he didn’t push the issue. Drew gave me my space. Even when he could feel me becoming distant, he gave me my space. I stopped talking as much and I drowned myself in as many television shows as I could.
It was all to mask the fact that I’m scared to death about going back to Candor. Every time a kid is returned, the school’s ratings take a dip and the funding the second time around is at the school’s expense mostly.
If there is a God, he must’ve decided somewhere down the line that he hated me. Why else would he allow this to be my life? Why else would he send me back to the same hellhole I managed to escape from?
For the next couple of nights I cried myself to sleep once I was sure Drew was sleeping so soundly not even an earthquake could wake him. He’s a hard sleeper. Sunday morning came and I texted my dad to let him know Drew was going to be dropping me off at home within the hour.
I gathered all of my things and Drew put them in his car. He wasn’t talking, which meant he was just as nervous as I was about me going home.
The car ride back to Elk Grove was a silent one. Our fingers were laced together, but neither of us spoke a word to each other or even looked in each other’s direction. The closer I got to home, the more nauseous I felt. We were a couple of blocks away from my house when I had to have Drew pull over so I could puke my guts out on the sidewalk.
“We don’t have to go back,” Drew rubbed my back, “we can find somewhere else to go.”
“No. I’m done running,” I sat down on the curb in front of his car.
Drew sat down next to me and we both stared off into space. There’s so much I want to say to him and I didn’t know where to start.
“You lied to me when you said Candor wasn’t that bad,” he looked over at me, “I looked them up. Some of the things people have to say about this place…”
“I’ll be fine. Hey, you know me. I’m like a cat. I always land on my feet no matter what,” I flashed him a brave smile.
“You’re a terrible liar,” he chuckled.
“Just don’t get back together with Kim as soon as they take me away. Make her wait at least a month.”
He laughed.
“I’d rather be with you.”
“Ditto,” I nodded.
“Wow. So this is really happening, huh?”
“Yep,” I took a deep breath and exhaled.
“I’m gonna miss you.”
“You won’t have time to miss me with Kim suffocating you every hour of every day,” I teased. We both laughed and he hooked his arm around my neck, pulling me close.
“I don’t care how many years pass before I see you. When you get out of there, you come find me. And if you’re broken, let me put you back together.”
“Oh please. I’m a rebel without a cause. It’ll take more than a couple of years at Candor to break me.”
Again we both laughed and then we fell silent for what felt like forever. In a perfect world, we’d be planning our future together. But my life has never been one of perfection. I have a father who sees me as a problem and not a person. I have a mother who has never put her foot down, even when she knows my dad is wrong. And then I have my temper and rebellious nature.
A recipe for disaster since birth…
“We should get going.”
Drew nodded and we both climbed back into his car. I saw the van for Candor as we pulled up in front of my house but I didn’t see anyone.
My parents were pacing on the porch and practically all of our neighbors were outside watching the kids play football in the streets. I smiled at Drew who went to get my things out of the trunk of the car. He had no idea what was coming, but I did. As I walked to the front door, two men came out of nowhere and body-slammed me to the ground.
“Hey!” Drew shouted, dropping my suitcase to rush over and help me. His dad had to grab hold of him and pin his arms to his side so he couldn’t break free. Josh went over to help Mr. Taylor hold Drew back as I cried out in pain. My arms were pinned behind my back at an unnatural angle. My wrists were cuffed, my ankles were cuffed and I was sat upright on the grass so both my wrist and ankle cuffs could be cuffed together. This is how they stopped you from being able to run away.
“Sidney Stansfield?” One of the men asked. He was new. I’d never seen him before. But the other guy…we knew each other all to well.
“Well if I wasn’t you’d be in an crapload of trouble, wouldn’t you?”
“Welcome back to Candor smart mouth,” Jenson, one of Candor’s infamous agents smirked. His nickname was the punisher. Whenever you got out of line at Candor, he’s the one who’d show up to drag you away to hell.
“You didn’t have to come all this way to see me Jenson. You could have just called or wrote me a letter,” I laughed, spitting blood out of my mouth. When they body-slammed me I bit my tongue.
“I’m going to have so much fun breaking you,” he whispered into my ear and smiled. I spit in his face.
He narrowed his eyes at me, which meant I was probably going to pay for it later. Whatever. Bring it on dickhead.
Without even a goodbye to my family, I was carried to his van like a criminal and shackled into my seat so I couldn’t break free. Everyone stopped to watch Candor manhandle me like I was a seasoned criminal, except mom. She turned away, unable to watch what she let her husband do to me.
The last image I had before being taken away is the look of horror on Drew’s face. And when he reads my letter…he’ll fully understand why I threw up on the sidewalk.
I held Drew’s gaze until the van turned a corner and he was no longer within my line of sight. We hadn’t gone far and already the torture began. The temperature in the back of the van was made so cold I started to shiver.
This is what they did. First they broke you physically and then they broke you mentally. I just hope I can last for another two years.
“I knew you’d be back,” Jenson eyeballed me from the rearview mirror, “When they let you out you were still as wild as a jungle cat, but I got something for you.”
I knew better than to respond or engage in any sort of conversation with Jenson. Even conversation was a part of the sick twisted game he liked to play. Candor is a seven-hour drive away. If I’m going to survive hell one last time I needed to rest, but even resting was easier said that done when you couldn’t stop shivering.
For seven hours they froze me in the back seat of that van and when we approached the gates to the Candor Albright Reform School for girls I promptly threw up all over the place. Jenson and the new guy just laughed.
When the van came to a stop in front of the entrance, I was unchained from the seat and carried by the cuffs connecting my hands and feet into the building. The cuffs dug into my wrists and ankles and I cried out in pain, but here, no one cared about your pain.
I was tossed into a concrete room that was even colder than the back of the van and curled up into a ball. Jenson and the new guy left for a few minutes and when they came back, it was to carry me to the showers. My clothes were cut off of me and as I lay on the floor I was blasted with a water hose spraying ice-cold water.
“Oops, I forgot the soap. I guess we’re just going to have to try that again, won’t we?” Jenson laughed pouring soap all over me. He tossed the empty bottle of soap at me, striking me in the arm and then he continued to blast me with cold water.
The hose he used was like the hoses firemen used to put out fires. Everywhere the water struck pain pricked at my skin. It became so unbearable that eventually I passed out.
When I came to I was locked in a room with no windows. Not even on the door. And again it was freezing. A candor uniform was left for me on the only cot in the room and I quickly put it on.
A small latch opened at the bottom of the door and someone slid a tray inside, but I knew better. The food was probably laced with a sedative they used to disorient you. It was all a part of what Candor called treatment for the disobedient. In order to mold me, they first had to break me.
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