Locked Up Together

6: "That Would Actually Be A Fair Game."

6: Locked Up Together
        I've heard lots of rumors about Alexander during the two years he'd been here in middle school, and this year when I'd heard that he'd been in juvie during a part of Junior year. Callie, who prided herself on knowing everything about everyone, had told me the most, in hushed whispers anytime we would see him around school. He had transferred in the middle of the seventh grade. His attendance was irregular and the beginning of eleventh grade he'd spent a few months in juvie. When he came back he had a tattoo on the inside of his right wrist and was quieter than ever. At least that's what I had heard since I wasn't there for any of it.

        He didn't have any friends as far as I could tell and I never saw him during lunch. Outside of school, I saw him even less. One time he was at the movies with some girl that I've never seen before. He'd never acknowledged my existence, nor had I his. Not that I cared. He was just another kid from school.

        I could tell he didn't want to acknowledge me anymore now then he had then by the way he looked at me. Did he even know my name? I realized he hadn't said it once. I wasn't sure how things would go down when we were finally discovered here, but it was in my best interest, for now, to tell him what he needed to hear. "Nobody needs to know."

        He went back to reading without a word of gratitude. Did he not know how to say thank you or something?

        I reached down and unlaced my Doc Martins. I'd been wearing them too long and the tops of my feet hurt. I slipped them off, wondering if it was a good idea or not. I was only wearing a thin pair of ankle socks and my feet immediately became cold. I pulled them up onto the chair with me and tucked them under the sleeping bag.

        "There were vending machines in a kitchen, but I don't have any money. Do you?"

        He shifted in his seat, reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a worn black leather wallet. He opened it and produced a single bill. I couldn't tell from where I was sitting if it was a dollar, twenty, or something in between. "I take it all your belongs somehow ended up in one of the five cars that left without you and hasn't returned yet."

        "They'll be back for me."

        One corner of his mouth lifted into a small smile. Oh good, I amused him. "That's all I have," he said, pointing to the table where he'd dropped the bill. "Spend it wisely."

        "I'm not hungry right now, so we can wait."

        "The half an apple filled you up?" Yes.

        "We're on rations here. If we have to last until Tuesday, we need to space our few meals." An expired yogurt that was currently sitting in the trash can, the cake, the Tupperware bowl of mystery, and whatever the money would buy us. That's all we had for three days, or until I could find his phone. He'd leave his bag unattended at some point.

        "Fourteen hours trapped in a library and you're already a survivalist." Ouch. He really didn't know how much that one had hit me.

        I crossed my arms. "You seem to enjoy making fun of me."

        "I was being sincere. I mean, if you're ever in a real life-or-death situation, you've already learned how to throw books, fight someone, and scavenge for food."

        I'd forgotten about to hand-to-hand combat fight we'd had at the very beginning of this. But to be honest, he was an exceptional fighter. After all, he'd won against me—one of the best Air Force Lieutenants in the country. But I would've easily won had it not been for my injuries. The gunshot wound to my left thigh, my stomach, and the shoulder, as well as the Labral Tear that had come with the shoulder injury.