CHAPTER 9
My stash—ten cigarettes and a lighter, smuggled in during laundry duty—remained hidden under my bunk. I was cautious with it, only taking one at a time and trading only when necessary. Malik and Misfit were the only ones aware of its location, but she kept her distance—or so I believed.
I went back to my cell, sweat still dripping down my neck after working out with Malik on the gym equipment to clear my mind following another intense therapy session with Dr. Brenner.
He had tried to delve deeper into my friendships I'd made while I was here, which made me curious if Misfit had mentioned me in her sessions.
I knew something was off the moment I stepped through the door to my cell.
A shift in the space which niggles deep within your skull.
I paused, my eyes scanning the space when I noticed it.
The mattress had shifted, just slightly, but not enough for anyone to really notice.
I crouched beside my bunk, reaching underneath, my hand brushing back and forth against the plastic fabric.
It was gone. My eyes widened as I remained there, trying desperately to think what I had done to make her make good on her threat. I’d helped her; I was being a friend.
Storming from my cell, I found her lingering outside hers, leaning against the entrance as if she was waiting for my reaction. Her eyes drifted towards me, averting as I got closer.
“You think I’m stupid?” I spat.
“Yeah,” irritatingly calm.
I shook my head at her reply, “You went under my bed?”
Carelessly shrugging to my question, her eyes remained on the floor. “I was checking for monsters.”
“Misfit, seriously? We had a deal.” My tone laced with anger. “I vouched for you,” Wavering on the thought of uncovering my want to protect her, from whatever or whoever wanted to manipulate her in this place. “Kept your name out of the mouths that wanted to tear you apart—"
“And made me look weak.” She snapped, as heat flashed across her face.
My brows furrowed, unable to understand her obsession with looking weak. I stepped closer, unable to control my growing temper. “Are you for real? I was helping—"
“No,” cutting me off. “You were making it look like I couldn’t deal with my own shit.”
I scoffed, retreating from her delusion. “You're unbelievable.”
“Our deal was that you don’t do anything that makes me an easy target—”
“You were already an easy target, Misfit.” I snapped.
“I was handling it—”
I couldn’t help but let out a sharp laugh, “Really? Because from where I was sitting, you shook every time Nate so much as looked at you, so yeah, I stepped in—”
“Why?” Her voice rose as other inmates' attention started to fall upon us. “Why do you give a fuck?”
Because, for some unexplainable reason, I found myself drawn to her. The whole psychotic package that was Misfit. She annoyed me more than I knew possible at times. But there were moments, fleeting moments, where it felt like we understood each other, fully.
“What do you gain? Is it for favours?” she continued. “You step in, some fucking white knight, and then I owe you?”
Her words cut, sharp and deep within me.
Is that how she saw me? Not once had I ever made any advance with my actions towards her.
Despite the rumours, despite Malik and the other lads' constant questions.
I always shot them down. We were meant to be friends, but I guess I had completely misread that.
The heat in my chest dispersed, leaving me wounded. “That’s what you think of me?”
She remained silent, eyes still dropped to the floor. She didn’t even have the balls to look at me.
“I don’t want anything from you,” my voice void of all previous aggravation. “I never have.”
Part of me knew she didn’t believe me; otherwise, why would she question it in the first place?
“But if you think so little of me, don’t expect me to stick my neck out again.”
I stepped back, removing myself as our silence spoke more than words. I was done with her; let her be thrown to the wolves.
That’s when she finally looked up, meeting mine.
“I don’t expect anything from anyone,” she said, turning away from me and stepping into her cell, the door sliding shut behind her like the closing of a chapter between us. I remained in the corridor for a while, stunned and unable to grasp what had just happened.
Four days, that’s how long I went without speaking to her.
Four days of pretending she didn’t exist, even though I saw her everywhere.
In the lunch line, in the yard, at rec. She moved like nothing had happened, like crawling under my bunk and stealing from me was just another Tuesday. And for her, it probably was.
I did the same, treating her like a ghost as I looked through her.
People like us learned to survive before we learned to trust.
I trained harder those days, hit the weights like they’d done something personal to me. Better that than someone's face. Ignored the way my chest felt tight every time I caught her flipping off some guard or haggling for someone else’s fruit cup.
I was angry, not because of the smokes. I could’ve easily replaced those. I was furious because I’d let my guard down. Because I’d started to believe she might be different. Malik had clocked it. Stating the fucking obvious at the most inopportune time.
“Y’all beefin’ or flirting?” he said with a smile from across the table, the others chuckling as they turned, giving Misfit over-the-shoulder glances. I answered with a death glare, knowing he’d get the message. He nodded, pressing his lips together to stop himself from laughing.
Cory sat next to me, bumping my shoulder with his, catching my attention.
“If you're done with her, I wouldn’t mind giving her a spin.” I hardened my glare at him before grabbing his shoulder and forcing him backwards off the bench. Letting out a yelp as his back hit the floor with a thud, I stood and walked away.
Laughter set out from Malik as he looked to the guy now on the floor, “I’m taking that as a no.”
Wednesday seemed to come around quicker since her little performance, and Malik's endless gossip train was driving me insane. So I slipped out when he wasn’t looking.
It was early for my laundry shift, but I couldn’t continue listening to him concoct wild stories about other inmates.
I just wanted to be on my own, replaying how Misfit just stood there.
I rounded the corner only to be jolted backwards as Misfit hurled into me, her breath hitched on impact as I reached forward, grabbing her shoulders to steady her from falling to the floor.
A redness sat heavy in her eyes, ragged breaths leaving her when I released my grip.
I wanted to know why she was crying, or if anyone had hurt her, but I didn't at the same time. I swallowed down the urge gnawing at me as my jaw worked in my restraint. I couldn’t just forget what she had done; she had retaliated against the one person who was watching her back.
Leaving us stood in a strange standoff. But pathetically, I craved her presence at the same time.
My shoulders slumped as I let out a breath, remaining firm on my position in this situation. Looking aside, I ran a hand through my hair, hoping she was experiencing the same clawing sensation to break the quiet.
Unspoken words hit like a punch to the gut. So, I brushed past her, disconnecting myself from the space as it became too heavy to stand. And I hated myself for it.
I'd fallen deep within my own thoughts as I was hauling a basket to the back corner, near the busted dryer, when I heard the raised voices.
Soon followed by a scuffle. Then a crash.
My own curiosity pulling me toward it before I could think better.
The other Inmates had scattered, the ones with sense anyway.
But up near the mop sink, I saw two guys pinning someone against the wall as some fucking weasel stood behind them looking all too happy with himself. Shock hit me when I saw Misfit pinned.
I didn’t stop to think, just dropped the basket and ran. By the time I got to her, one of the guys had her by the collar, the other was laughing, reaching for her pocket as if he knew she had something stashed.
She struggled under his weight, the fat fucker pushing everything he had into keeping her in place. Her teeth clenched as if she’d rather die than ask for help. I shoved the bigger guy hard. He staggered, slamming into the shelves.
“Back off!” I snapped; the second guy swung at me.
I ducked it, caught him in the gut, and drove him against the cart. Misfit elbowed the one still holding her and slipped free. Guards stormed in seconds later. Standard chaos, shouting orders while our arms were pulled behind our backs. We all hit the floor, face down and breathless.
My eyes shifted over to Misfit as I struggled against the guards pinning me down, a touch of a smile on her face before they dragged me away.
Later, after they sorted out who started what, which they never got right, they let us off with a warning.
Not enough witnesses. Not enough incentive to write the report.
That night, I sat on my bunk, Malik chatting my ear off about his upcoming case review.
He’d been here for a while before me and had a chance of getting out early due to good behaviour.
The lights flickered off, plunging us into darkness.
I heard a knock on the door, two soft taps.
I propped myself up, looked towards the door, and just listened.
Then I heard it: the scrape of something sliding under the door.
I waited until I knew whoever it was was gone, slid off the bed to find it was one of the cigarettes Misfit had taken.
Wrapped in paper, four words written in pencil. “For what it’s worth,” I smirked, just held it in my hand and stared at the words. It didn’t fix everything, didn’t mean trust was back on the table. But it was something.