Chapter 3. Liam
We are all silent as we step into the dorm building, and, suddenly, I feel like I’m gonna hurl. I didn’t feel this sick even when the judge laid down my sentence. Probably everything is just hitting me all at once, plus it’s been ages since my last smoke, and I really need to chill.
The dorms are pretty much like jail. There’s this common room with couches and some tables, but it’s all caged up with bars on the doors, very useful so they can lock us in quickly if needed.
Upstairs, it’s just halls lined with more doors.
Each door leads to what is basically a cell, a super cramped room with a tiny, barred window and thick glass so we can't smash it, two bunk beds against the walls, and a single bed under the window.
The door has a little window too, so no privacy, and they obviously lock from the outside.
Thank God there isn't a toilet in there; that would be gross, it’s too cramped for that. Bathrooms are communal, down the hall.
"Welcome, and I hope you feel at home soon," Griff says, still all nice, and I just want to puke.
You see, puking is sort of a hobby for me.
Ate too much and don’t want to deal with calories?
Puke. Nervous as fuck? Puke. Want to feel a little better for no particular reason?
Puke. It’s my favorite thing in the world, although it sucks so bad.
But that’s just life. Almost everything is good and bad.
Puking is just like that, although the doctors disagree.
They say it’s just my fucked up head that thinks like that.
Now I hold it together and walk into my new home. Ethan follows me in, still quiet, and the bunks are all taken except for one lower bed, on the left wall. My new home.
The guy in the top left bunk doesn’t move or even glance at me when I walk in.
He has black hair, longer than mine, lots of tattoos, and a scowl even meaner than Ethan’s.
His whole vibe screams, ‘Don't come near, don’t talk to me, don’t even look my way.
’ I’ve met plenty of those types on the streets, and if he’s anything like he looks, better to steer clear.
The guy on the lower bunk, though, stands up and flashes a huge grin at me.
He has blond hair buzzed on the sides, and a big Batman tattoo under his ear, on his neck.
Also, he has a little hole in his ear, probably from a gauge back in the day.
Brown eyes and a big smile. He isn't as big or beefy as Ethan, but he’s definitely fit.
He’s also fucking hot, which makes me wonder if I’m damn lucky or just crazy needy.
“Take care of him,” Griff says, smiling as he closes the door behind him.
"Hey, you must be the new guy they said was coming," the blond guy says, all friendly, and I still think it’s so weird that nobody has screamed at me or kicked me in the face yet. "I’m Jack."
"Hi! Liam," I say, not sure if I should act all broody like top bunk guy and Ethan or just be myself. Never been great at pretending, especially since I’m gonna live with these dudes. So, I just shrug. It is what it is. I’ll be the clown I usually am.
Ethan walks over to the single bed under the window.
The other bunk on the opposite wall has just the top bed occupied.
The guy from there also climbs down and waves at me, with another friendly smile.
He has small eyes that slant up at the corners, straight black hair, and round glasses, Asian heritage if I had to guess.
He’s about my height, which doesn't make him the tallest guy around, at five foot eight.
"Hey," he says. "I’m Harry."
"Liam. This my bed?" I ask, pointing to the lower bunk, and Harry nods.
"Top bunks are basically VIP seats in this place.
Miles up there is royalty. Obviously, I'm not quite there yet," Jack jokes.
Miles ignores us, pretending no one ever addressed him.
But I don't mind it, I figure I’ll probably get along with that blond guy, and no one has been too aggressive or too much of a giant prick, so I'm counting my wins.
“Except for our boss here, of course,” Harry chimes in sarcastically, throwing a hand towards Ethan. "He’s got the single bed. It doesn't shake, and it's softer than your mom's ass."
Ethan just grunts and rolls his eyes. "If you guys had half the stuff to deal with that I do, maybe you'd earn this bed too," he shoots back. I’m not too sure I like Ethan, despite how fucking hot he is. What’s his deal? Does he really think he’s our boss or something?
I know he’s a ‘leader’ or something, but still.
"So, what do we do now?" I ask, flopping down on my new bed. It’s super hard, but oh, well. Jack settles back on his bed beside mine, and Harry climbs back to the top bunk above mine.
"Nothing," Jack says. "Now it’s Quiet Time," he adds, doing air quotes.
"Every day, we get locked in here for three hours to just do nothing.
I mean, it's very convenient to give the staff a break.
But, also, the official excuse is that we gotta meditate and think about how to do better in life, or some shit like that. "
"Now it’s sounding even more like jail," I say. Jack laughs.
"You get used to it," he tells me. "Most of us just nap. It’s right after lunch anyway. Could be worse. Just jerk off if you're too bored. We don't care."
"And what if you gotta pee?" I ask. Jack and Harry crack up.
"You hold it. Or, if you're desperate, find a bottle and go in that. Or if Ethan is feeling super generous, maybe he’ll escort us," Harry says, poking fun at Ethan again.
"No way," Ethan snaps back. "I always tell you guys to go beforehand. Not my job to sort you out."
What a jerk. Part of me wants to mess with him, just say I'll piss my pants and make it everyone's problem. But I let it go. Too exhausted to call him out on not doing his job.
I kick off my shoes, settle into bed, ready for that nap, and just then, the bag of weed falls out onto the floor.
"Shoot, totally forgot about that," I say. I reach for it, but Jack is quicker.
"Is that what I think it is?" he asks with a huge mischievous look on his face, his eyes glinting. I laugh.
"Oops. My ADHD must've forgotten to flag it. If you want, I’m down to share, but you guys gotta hook me up with your contact here so I can get more."
Jack cracks up, but Ethan storms over. I swear to God, one second, he’s lying down, and the next he’s towering over us, angry as fuck. He yanks the bag from Jack's hand and stares at me like I’m the devil incarnate. His green eyes are blazing now.
"You brought weed into my room?" he roars, holding the bag up in front of me.
"Hey, hey, hey, chill. Just give it back, man," I say, my heart racing, probably because I have a thing for getting scolded by hot, bear-sized guys. But Ethan isn't finding any humor in it; he looks genuinely pissed.
“Are you fucking stupid or what?”
"Come on, man. It's just weed. I bet there's tons of it around here, and it’s not like I was gonna smoke it in front of the guards. Chill out," I try to calm him down. Everybody else is quiet as fuck now, like they all fear him or something.
A part of me can't blame them. He is scary.
Damn, why am I getting hard?
"No, there ain't a ton of that shit here, and this is serious.
You caught what Griff said? If you fuck up and get in trouble, it blows back on me, too.
I'll be fucking pissed if I’m just doing everything by the book, and then get screwed 'cause of your dumbass," he says, jabbing a finger in my face.
I almost bite my lip to say ‘yes, daddy,’ but I figure he might actually kill me then, so I keep quiet, but my mouth goes dry, and I feel a flush crawling up my neck, hot and obvious, and my thighs press together on instinct. The other guys stay silent too.
"What do you have to say for yourself?" he demands, still waving the crumpled packet in my face.
"I dunno," I say. "Sorry? Just give it back? What do you want to hear?" I ask, and he sighs loudly.
"It doesn’t matter what I want to hear; what matters is if you’re actually sorry, which you’re not. So, we can handle this in two ways: I can go tell Griff what I found, or I can deal with it myself. Since telling Griff will mess up my record too, I’d rather handle it. But your choice."
I pretend to be cool, even though my heart is pounding. "What do you mean, ‘handle it?’ Like, you gonna flush it?” I say, my voice casual, but my hands are sweating. “Or maybe spark up and chill for once?"
Jack snorts, amused, which makes me feel a little braver. Harry’s eyes are shining in a sick way, like he knows what Ethan wants to do, and Miles is a statue, frozen in absolute indifference, eyes glued to his book. Ethan clenches the bag so hard it might pop.
"You think this is a joke? You think rules don’t apply to you?
" he asks, and his voice is so low it is almost a growl. And I do get why everyone seems a little terrified of him, I do. There is a line between authority and psycho, and I’m not sure which side he is on.
He steps closer and prods his finger into my sternum.
Not enough to hurt, but plenty to make his point.
"If you ruin my record, you might as well disappear as fast as you can, because I'll kill you.
You screw up, I pay for it, so I'll make you pay before you can even think about it. We have a system here."
I should probably feel bad, but instead I want to laugh again, because it is so over the top.
I try to play it off with a little sarcasm again.
"Okay, fine. What’s the system? If you ain't gonna rat me out, what the hell do you want to do?
Take me out for dinner?" I say. He shakes his head, like he’s disappointed with my answer, lips pressed into a line.
“You want to do this the hard way, fine. Here’s how it works. I'll punish you myself, and we’re square. I'll make you understand you won't fuck with me. Or I tell Griff, and you get it twice as bad, maybe the hole, or worse. You don’t want that. So, pick."
I eye the others, looking for backup, but Jack just sits there with this expectant look, waiting for me to do something, and Harry is nearly vibrating with excitement. Even Miles, who has been pretending to read until now, is watching out of the corner of his eye.
I fake a laugh. "Come on, man. Punish me?
What kind of kinky shit is that? What the hell will you do?
I thought this wasn't a psych ward." I try to keep my face calm, but Ethan’s glare is frying my brain. I have no idea if this is a real threat or just some fucked up hazing ritual. Maybe he is just posturing, like animals do, or maybe he is for real about punishing me for a little grass, whatever that means. The whole situation feels surreal. Ethan’s voice gets quieter, but he still has that same growl, which makes all of my hairs stand up.
Yes, even the ones down there, and they aren’t the only things standing up now.
"I’ll give you three seconds to decide before I decide for you," he says, and starts counting down. "Three. Two…" He doesn’t even get to one. I put my hands up.
"Fine. Whatever. Punish me, Daddy."
Maybe not my smartest moment.