Epilogue. Liam
Six o'clock.
The fucking buzzer. The fucking lights come on. Everybody grunting. We're out the door by six-fifteen.
It's snowing outside again, so we're all in the indoor gymnasium. Griff is reading names off his clipboard.
"Ethan," he says, because he knows Ethan doesn't like to be called Farley.
"Present, sir," Ethan says beside me.
"Tyler Farley," Griff continues.
"Here," Tyler says.
He's in the last row, far from us, next to his own friends, which I know makes Ethan the proudest big brother ever and also makes him watch Tyler like a hawk because he doesn't want him hanging out with the wrong crew.
Griff keeps calling names in alphabetical order until he gets to mine.
"Marsal."
"Present."
The word is a Pavlovian response. I'm too sleepy to think. I hate waking up. Waking up is a violence against myself.
Griff keeps reading.
"Perry."
"Here!"
Jack's voice is louder than necessary because he's already a hundred percent electric and ready to go.
"Reeves."
Miles says, "Present," very quietly.
"Westfield."
"Here," Harry says. "Beautiful morning for institutional confinement," he murmurs, just loud enough for us to hear and just quiet enough for plausible deniability.
I try not to laugh.
Jack snorts.
"Moment of silence," Griff says. "Think about what you have to be grateful for today."
We bow our heads.
The room goes quiet. If anybody talks now, they get detention, except for the rushed prayers some of the guys whisper under their breath. I just stay quiet. I think I'm grateful for not being outside freezing and for having Ethan and my friends here.
"No announcements today. Dismissed."
The room detonates.
Jack does a full-body stretch. Miles starts walking before the rest of us. Harry is already at the door, but he stops to wait for us, something that definitely changed this year.
Ethan is beside me, and he smiles before we start moving.
Classes.
I go with Jack for our carpentry program.
I dread carpentry.
I suck at it.
I only like the classes where we're all together, like art.
We sit in the shop, get a board, and start working. My hands hurt.
I think about talking to Griff about changing programs. I'd only have to restart the program-specific classes. The core curriculum is the same for everyone. But I don’t know about it.
The bell finally rings after an eternity. We meet up before lunch and sit outside for a little free time after classes. It's fucking freezing. I don't want to play in the snow today, but Jack doesn't hesitate before throwing himself into it and making snow angels.
I head to my kitchen shift instead of Quiet Time.
Margarete is at the prep station, bent over a cutting board. Dora moves around carrying two large trays. They're both talking in Portuguese. Lu is making rice for dinner later.
"You're late," she says, which she always does.
I'm two minutes late. I usually am.
"Today," she says, "you'll learn my mother's soup."
The three hours there feel like three minutes.
When I get out, I meet the guys for snack, and today they're merciful enough to let us have it inside instead of out in the freezing yard. We get chocolate cake. I baked that cake.
I feel ridiculously proud when Jack takes a bite and says, "Fucking hell, this is good."
After snack, Ethan and I go work out.
Ethan's already changed. The black uniform shirt hugs him, and it makes his arms look insane. I follow him into the weight room. He stands behind the bench and spots me while I do my sets. Then we swap. I love doing this with him. I love doing anything with him.
We don't shower because we stay there until MMA.
Griff is determined to train me in Brazilian jiu-jitsu. He says I'm better suited to grappling than striking styles like karate or Muay Thai.
Today he's showing me how to do a rear-naked choke, and I almost make Jack faint with it.
After MMA, we shower, and we're ridiculously tired.
If Ethan has to work, he goes to his office. Otherwise, we stay in our room or in the rec room with the others.
Today, it's just the two of us in our room, in his bed.
It's so cold that being under both blankets feels amazing, especially the extra one they give us in winter.
We talk a lot, Ethan and me, when we're alone.
Sometimes we talk about the future, about what we'll do when we're out.
Sometimes we talk about things we like.
Sometimes we talk about random shit, like how the fuck people trained pigeons to deliver messages, and he knows so many useless facts that it's ridiculous.
I think he knows everything about everything.
Sometimes we don't talk at all.
We just breathe together.
Tonight, we talk.
We lie on our backs, Ethan's arm under my head, my hand tucked into his armpit, which is the warmest place on earth.
I tell him about Lu’s soup. I tell him I want to make it for him when we have our own kitchen, with real knives and herbs that don't come dried in a bag. I tell him I want a house with a garden. I want to plant tomatoes and cucumbers and jalapenos. He grins at that.
"You'd get bored of the vegetables after a week," he says.
"Not if you're there to force me to eat them."
He tells me about his brother, how Tyler is still struggling to stay out of trouble, but he's trying. Really trying.
He tells me about his Auntie, who he'll visit during the break.
Christmas break is coming, and I've been staying out of trouble, so I'll probably be allowed to leave.
But I have nowhere to go.
I'm not sure I want to stay at my dad's with his new girlfriend there.
"You could come with me," Ethan says. "To Auntie's."
"She'd have me?"
"Of course!" he exclaims, almost offended that I'd even ask. I chuckle. I kiss him. He pulls me closer. We fall asleep for a while, curled up together. I wake when the door opens and Jack comes in, humming to himself, followed by Miles and then Harry.
End of rec time.
Jack's face is red from the cold, and he's carrying a bag of chips, which is contraband, but he doesn't care.
"Where did you get that?" Ethan asks, one eyebrow raised, ever the leader.
"Harry got it for me. He won it from Santana in poker. I don't know where Santana got it."
He offers us some, and we eat them in bed, licking the salt off our fingers. They're salt and vinegar. My fucking favorite ever.
A guard named Fernando comes to check if we've run away or died. We haven't. So he tells us, "Lights out in two," which means he wants us all in our bunks.
We obey like the good little boys we are. The lights turn off automatically. I immediately go to Ethan's bed in the dark. Ethan pulls me close, and I rest my head on his chest. I listen to his heart. I imagine the house we'll have someday.
The garden.
The kitchen.
The dog, even though he says I can't get one.
I know he'll cave.
Maybe Miles and Jack will come visit.
Harry too, if he doesn't end up in real jail for some scheme.
Maybe we'll all be okay.
We are okay now.