16. Trinity
Chapter 16
Trinity
“What’s wrong with you?”
I don’t bother answering Jasper, just like I didn’t bother getting undressed for bed last night, or showering, or even washing my face.
What’s the point anyway?
“Hey, are you sick or something?”
“Sure,” I mumble back. “Let’s go with that.”
Jasper mutters something under his breath before stomping out of the room. Thankfully, he closes the door behind him—I don’t know if I have the energy to go after him and close it.
Minutes later, the prayer bell sounds.
I don’t regret anything I said last night. I should…but I don’t.
I can’t remember how long I spent in Father Gabriel’s room, in his arms. I know at some stage he lit a cigarette. That smell drove me out of myself just long enough to get to my feet and finally make it out of his room.
I walked the halls for a while. Half lost and panicking, half not giving a fuck if I ever found my way again.
But I eventually arrived back here in this little cubbyhole of a room. I climbed onto my bed, rolled myself in my blankets, and fell into a dreamless sleep.
That was a century ago. Or mere minutes.
Time is something that happens to other people.
The bedroom door opens, thumping against the wall.
I don’t even flinch.
“You’re sick?” Sister Miriam says from the doorway.
I consider the consequences of being as rude to her as I was to Jasper.
Not worth it.
“Yes,” I mumble.
“Do you have a fever?”
“Yes.”
Shoes clomp over the tiles. An icy hand clamps over my forehead. This time I do flinch, and I even manage to scramble up and move away from that hand.
Sister Miriam studies me for a moment. “You’ve been crying.”
No fucking duh. Did my swollen eyes give it away?
“Come. Get up.”
I shake my head. “Please, I’ll go to class. I just…I just need to sleep for a little longer.”
“You will get up now . You will wash. You will eat breakfast with the others.”
I wish I could spontaneously burst into tears right now. I’m not sure if it would help, but I’ve got to believe even someone as cold-hearted as Sister Miriam might be moved by the sight of tears.
Fuck, who am I kidding? Anyone who works in a place like this has got to be immune to shit like that by now.
I’m sure that’s the only way people stay sane around here.
I obviously took too long to answer her. Her mouth twisting into a sour grimace, Miriam darts forward, catches hold of the shoulder of my dress, and drags me out of bed.
“That wasn’t a request, Miss Malone.”
Miss Malone.
She hauls open my closet and takes down one of the hangers. The next moment, I’m clutching a brown dress to my chest.
It’s not as thick as the one I’m wearing. This is normal fabric. Still stiff, but in a way that suggests it hasn’t been through the wash enough times to be soft.
A new dress, made just for me.
It should make me happy, even superficially, but instead all I can think about is how ashamed I was last night. Sitting there in a heap on Gabriel’s floor.
Did Reuben tell anyone?
Does someone like him even have friends to gossip with?
Miriam draws back the sleeve of her habit to check a dainty wristwatch. On her, it looks like the string on a roll of salami.
“You have half an hour. Plenty of time to wash up and get down to breakfast.” Her eyes narrow. “I’ll know if you don’t show. I’ll know if you don’t eat. Don’t test me, Miss Malone. You’ll regret it.”
I scowl after her as she leaves. I believe her—after all, she knew I was playing sick.
Jasper.
He must have said something to her.
I’m going to kill him.
Fuck his grades. I don’t care if he fails. In fact, I hope he has to repeat the entire year. Maybe then he’ll think twice about snitching on someone.
I head for the showers, but I don’t make it all the way. A few yards from the door, I can already hear the commotion inside. I don’t know how many boys are in there, but even one would have been too many. Is night the only time I stand a chance to shower alone?
This is such bullshit.
I go back to my room and flop down on my bed. When the bell rings for breakfast, I lay there for a few seconds before my brain wills my body into action.
Self-preservation in action.
I drag off my old dress and slip into the new one. I really need a shower, but I’ll wait until tonight. In the meantime, the smell of washing powder on this dress will have to do.
The fabric is baggy around my boobs and too tight around my hips. It’s so uncomfortable that I stand for a good minute seriously considering wearing the old, scratchy dress. At least it was baggy all over.
When I get down to the dining hall, everyone’s already seated. Sister Miriam is stalking down the aisles, head poking forward like she’s making sure no one’s thinking dirty thoughts.
Or is she looking for me?
I hurry over to the tray table and grab the lone tray sitting there. As soon as I turn around, I spot Jasper.
Because he was watching me with a concerned look on his face.
Holy crap, was I that rude to him? Or does he know I got into a heap of trouble with Miriam? That latter seems more likely, especially since he moves aside and beckons me over with a flick of his wrist.
“Thanks,” I mumble as I slide onto the bench beside him.
He studies me for a moment and then shrugs. “Nice dress.”
“Fuck off.”
His eyebrows go to his hairline, but he doesn’t reply. Perry’s sitting opposite us on the bench, but he doesn’t even look up from his tray.
I hear Sister Miriam approach from the other side of the room.
Clomp, clomp.
Grimacing faintly, I peel the plastic wrap off the tray. “Ew,” I murmur, using my spoon to poke at the beige gruel slopped in my tray.
Normally, there’s something different in each of the little hollows—a piece of toast, scrambled eggs, oatmeal.
Not today.
Today it’s all oatmeal. And it looks gross enough to be from last week’s batch.
“Running low on donations or something?” I mutter, glancing over at Jasper’s plate.
My spoon sags.
Jasper’s tray is full of the usual—in fact, it looks like he even got a fucking breakfast sausage.
What the hell?
“Maybe they ran out?” Jasper whispers.
Clomp, clomp.
I heap some of the disgusting oatmeal onto my spoon and toy with it for effect as Miriam comes up behind me. There’s a tug on the back of my dress, and suddenly my boobs fill the bodice.
“We’ll need to take more measurements,” Miriam says, as if I’m not surrounded by a table full of boys. “Come see me this afternoon.”
I’m blushing so hard I don’t even hear her walking away.
“Here,” Jasper says.
I glance at him. He’s holding out his sausage on the end of his fork.
When I look up at him, he drops his eyes.
“Not hungry,” I say, pushing away my plate.
I stand and go over to the far side of the room, ignoring the eyes surreptitiously following me. I pour myself a cup of coffee, hesitate, and then double the amount of sugar I normally do.
I’m sure I’m going to need the energy today.
On the way back to my seat, I spot movement across the room.
Of course.
My day wouldn’t be complete without someone filming me for no apparent reason. It’s blatantly obvious he’s got the lens focused on me—it tracks me as I cross the room.
I thump down into my seat and point at him, leaning sideways to Jasper. I keep my voice low even though Sister Miriam left the hall minutes ago.
“Who is that?”
Jasper frowns as he looks up. “Think his name’s Apollo.”
Perry turns in his seat and comes back with a nod. “Yeah. That’s Apollo. Why?”
“Because I’m sick of him filming me.” I stand and dust my hands. “And I’m sure Sister Miriam won’t like it when I tell her what he’s been doing.”
“You’re gonna tell?” Jasper frowns up at me.
I put my hands on my waist and glare down at him. “ You’re lecturing me about snitching?”
The hall goes silent.
My cheeks instantly turn red.
But I hold my ground, even when Jasper frowns in confusion. “I didn’t say anything. Father Gabriel asked us where you were before he started prayers this morning.” Jasper throws out a hand to encompass every student in the school.
Even Apollo and his damned video camera.
“He asked the whole school, and when no one said they’d seen you, then he asked me specifically.” Jasper snorts and leans back, scooping up a heap of scrambled eggs with his fork. “I ain’t gonna lie for you.”
I deflate a little at that. I guess I should have realized Jasper wouldn’t snitch, but I hadn’t thought Gabriel would ask after me either.
I sink back into my seat and mutter out a low, “Sorry.”
“Yeah, well, fuck you,” Jasper says. He stabs his fork toward me again. “Now eat the fucking sausage.”
I stare at the oily sausage, and then up at him.
You know what? Thank fuck my tray was the last one and all I got was prison gruel. I’m glad I couldn’t go shower this morning because the place was infested with boys.
We’ve been through this little dance, the Universe and I. It seems to forget that even if it knocks me down, I’ll pop right back up again. A little like punching fog, and a lot like punching a balloon.
I slide the sausage off his fork and bite carefully into it. It’s not great, but anything’s better than the gruel.
“And if you don’t want to eat crap, get here sooner,” he mutters.
“Yes, Mom.”
My skin goes cold when I hear what I said, but it gets a chuckle from Jasper and a snicker from Perry, and I don’t want to ruin that.
How long will it take before a single phrase like that doesn’t stab icicles through my heart?
Another month? A year?
Maybe never.
However long it’ll take I can handle.
Because, honestly…how much worse can this possibly get?