PERVERSE - Apply Fic

12

Some of them had lofty dreams before this, certainly. Audrey has made it clear from all her investigating and interviewing and organizing of notes made from stolen pens and craft paper that her dream was to be a journalist. Sometimes, when she's doing the dishes, the others can hear Lydia hum to herself. Ambrose was in law school, Ajay in medical school, and Fallon an aspiring musician. Eva should have had a dream. Never would she have imagined herself an account, but that is what she has become.

There was a little over twelve hundred dollars in the drawer, and some Canadian tire money even though there isn't one within two hours from here. Eva gave Este three hundred as promised, and Este has only spent their money on a few scarves she keeps in her bed. The rest, Eva has divvied out.

Over the past week, that is what she has been managing. The pastor has brought them more food since, so Eva has invested in other items. Everyone got thirty dollars to buy some clothes from the used clothing store in town. She's booked a motel room twice over that week so everyone could rotate using showers. It's far cheaper than the truck stop showers, which cost ten dollars per person. Living alone after leaving her mother's home, Eva had to learn to budget quickly, and with the cleaning supplies so they can wash their clothes and their bodies in the sink in their kitchen, as well as the clothes, and of course her cigarettes, Eva doesn't have enough for three more weeks here.

Of course, Eva has a bigger plan in store. She wouldn't have been an accountant before this, but the leader of a heist is something she could see herself doing. With her cigarette pinched between her fingers, she pours over the blueprints she made. One more place, one big payout, in a neighbourhood where people will recognize her.

She stubs out the cigarette in her mother's bedroom.

Lydia doesn't hear the sound of burning, humming over the washing dishes. Most people aren't around right now, and she wonders if she could do it, open her throat without croaking. Stage fright hasn't bothered Lydia for years. There is no stage. If the church didn't echo, she might go up and sink where the choir sits.

Her hands hurt from the hot water. She stops the tap and dries off her hands, stepping into the next room. Eva holds the burning piece of paper in front of her, looking at Lydia through the hole. Lydia feels her spine straighten. It takes a second to coax her shoulders into loosening. She feels like she needs to stretch every day, with or without Eva around.

"You know, I am surprised you don't put up with Barry," Lydia leans against the doorway. "Doesn't he unsettle you?"

"He doesn't unsettle you," Eva shrugs. "Shouldn't he?"

Lydia couldn't imagine being Eva. Breaking and entering like it's no big deal, lighting fires in churches, walking into a motel with fifty dollars and no identification. There is something about Eva that fits this kind of life. Lydia is good at performing, but she needs a script.

Eva smirks. For all her composure, Lydia has one tell. She thinks with her whole body, from the strong furrow of her brow to chewing her lip.

"If you have a question, you can ask," Eva says. "I only hiss, I don't bite. Just be gentle."

"I'm not usually gentle," Lydia sighs. Then, she peels herself off the doorway and steps forward. "How are you so confident?"

"Are you saying I shouldn't be confident?"

There's something to Eva's smirk that infuriates Lydia, and she swallows it, "no. I'm just asking how you manage it?"

"Can you ask your actual question?" Eva muses. "All this beating around the bush is so annoying. I'm on the last of my nine lives. Probably."