badnews { jace norman }

thirty-six

My back slides down the brick wall, the courtyard filled with shouting is muffled by my heavy breaths.

"Hey Porter!"

I nudge my head towards Mavis, "Whats up?"

Her thin cornrows swing behind her as she approaches me.
"You done with your pussy workout? Bronx wants you to do her hair like mine"

"Yeah" I huff, brushing dirt off my hands as I walk with her back to the courtyard tables.

"Hey its Porter" the rough tone is lost in the mix of tens of girls.

"Yo Porter, come do my hair"

I sit up on the table top, patting the bench under it. She swiftly walks over to sit, adjusting herself to sit between my legs.

I feel everyone around us eyes' on me. The talking comes to a bare minimum between the group.

"Where did you learn how to do hair like this Prissy?" Mavis runs her hands through her tightly braided, blonde hair.

I smile. I was getting used to the nickname, everyone here seemed to have one.
"Just picked it up at some point."

"Probably on the streets, right?"

"Bronx shut the hell up, you're the only one that was working the corners" My remark is followed by a bunch of snorts and laughter throughout the girls.

"You got me there you little bitch" She laughs.

I was accumulating friends as time went on. Becoming more comfortable with my surroundings, I became more out going with the people around me. 

Bronx was my cell mate, the last one out of the three that I got close to, but possibly the one ive grown closest to. Her real name was Kim. She nags that it's too fake, too plastic of a name. So instead, it's Bronx. Where she grew up, where she got her high for the very first time, where she started her job of prostitution.

Mavis was my first celly to speak up and talk to me, it started with a 'fuck you'. A couple months later she's going to me for her problems. Everyone else called Mavis, Playboy. It started with a story she told a few years back about getting out on good behavior and going into Playboy to get money. The story became a legend when her old celly now lives in the Playboy mansion. But I stuck with Mavis, something about it made me feel like I was back home, where I belonged.

Razor didnt talk much. She was Hispanic, talked a lot of shit, and was fifty pounds over weight. She's been here the longest out of the three of us. Pulled a blade out of a razor she got her hands on and pulled it on an officer. The corrections phsility no longer allows razors for your showers.

Most of the girls that surrounded me were old timers. Ones that had been in the same cell since they were nine years old. Some for drugs, some for murder, others for prostitution. The variety was spread far here. They all pitied my situation. The ones that knew the truth anyway.

Between the three of us, we decided that it'd be best to keep my reputation up, and tell everyone I was here for being involved in a drug rank. It'd be less embarrassing for my cell mates that had grown close to me, and my own self, not being walked all over that way.

I finish half of her head, my fingers going a million miles an hour, before the gaurds round us back up. I tie up  her hair with a ponytail, half of it still wild and frizzy.

"I'll finish it tonight Bronx"

She nods roughly, walking away with the group that I was supposed to be in.

But instead I sit back, still for a moment as I watch Kat sprawl out in the grass a few yards away, taking in her last few seconds of earth before being locked up in a building until tomorrow afternoon. I talked to her occasionally. But our groups were rivals, not people we were supposed to be talking to. I didn't know what she did, or how long she had left in this shithole. But it was something bad, worse than most of us.

"Hey Priss- you coming or not?"

I turn towards the direction of the doors, Mavis's head pokes out, I nod.

○○○
That night I finish Bronx's hair in the cell. Taking up after lights out, I work in the dark.

Having no sense of time, I can feel my body awake for over half the night, maybe longer. Sleep was so important to me usually, but my mind was filling with so many thoughts that night.

Tomorrow was Monday, the Monday Sam would come. So much of me had changed between the two weeks. I feared the connection with us was growing less and less.

And the minute that the banging on the cell bars to wake us up fled the room, all my thoughts became reality, and I was panicking.

○○○

"How are you holding up?"

"Im good"

His eyebrows raise,
"Good isn't something I'd say if I were in prison"

"Juvie-" I correct "And it's going great. I'm getting along with everyone now"

"Dont get too comfortable, you only have four months left"

"Yeah yeah" My eyes roll.

"I see you changed your hair?"

"Yeah-cornrows are, kind of the only thing manageable in here" My free hand runs along them.

"You look a little healthier from last time- are you eating again?"

"No, everyone knows not to eat this shit food. I've been working out, helps me keep my sanity."

He nods, there's such a disconnection between us.

"Brit misses you..."

"Tell her I say hi. And that she needs to come visit with you some week."

"Shes not allowed to, but she's trying."

"Okay... I gotta go, we only have so much time in the rec yard."

"We've been talking for five minutes Margo, slow down.  Everyone's still at lunch."

The name Margo rings through my ears, I hadnt heard it in so long.

"Sorry..."

"Look there's something we need to talk about... I dont want to add stress onto you but, you need to know.."

"Okay?"

"Brit was at your house, talking with your parents"

"And?'

"They're getting a divorce Margo."

I chuckle "Mom finally found his ways huh"

"Your moms moving to New Hampshire. Said there was family there."

"I get to see everyone again" I grin "Why would that stress me out?"

"Youre staying with your dad, here."

"Wait, what? No im not- why?"

"Your mom told him he could have you and the house, that she was done"

"Shes leaving me?"

"You have your dad"

"Im not living with that bastard"
My voice raises, and the gaurd from the door eyeballs me.

"You have us, Brit and I. And Jace"

"Fuck that."

"I know you're upset... my dad did the same to me when I was three. Brit didnt even know the guy. You'll get through it, you have what? One more year?"

"Two" I sigh

"You'll be okay, alright?"

"Guess it was time to get my own place anyway, huh."