Hard Glass

by Lina Langley

  He patted my shoulder. “I know, buddy,” he said. “But it’s not my fault you decided to go to sleep at two in the morning.”

  “I had an essay to write,” I said. “You know, for college?”

  “I had an essay to write,” he echoed in a high-pitched voice. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help but smile. “Up to you, buddy. I’m gonna go.”

  “Ugh,” I replied. “Fine, just wait for five minutes, please?”

  He beamed at me. I stuck my tongue out at him and he went to reach for it, which made me laugh and throw my head back so hard I hit the headboard of my bed. It made me laugh harder, all while I heard Hashim asking me if I was okay, hovering over me.

  It was nice. It felt… domestic.

  Then I heard someone knock on the door. “Be quiet, Jules,” Hashim said, putting a finger to his lips. “You know we can get in trouble for making too much noise.”

  I continued to laugh as the door opened slightly. Brandon was standing at the door, wearing a white polo shirt and pink jogging shorts, which struck me as hilarious.

  Brandon looked at Hashim. “What’s wrong with him?”

  Hashim shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “A girl, maybe?”

  Brandon furrowed his brow as he stared at me while I began to quiet down. There was playfulness in the way Hashim had said that, but it had taken the wind out of my sails pretty quickly. Brandon cocked his head. “Nah,” he said. “I don’t think so.”

  I was about to tell him to fuck off, but Hashim shook his head and smiled. “Don’t be rude, Brandon,” he said.

  “I’m not,” Brandon replied. “I just want to go jogging before it gets too hot.”

  “Ugh, fine,” I said. “Will you guys wait for me?”

  “Hurry up,” they replied in unison, then broke into giggles.

  I smiled as I got up. At first, I hadn’t been crazy about staying back at school for the summer. I understood my parents were busy, but I was looking forward to spending time with them. Especially because I’d spent a couple of summers at school already, and it was always quiet and lonely.

  I was glad to hear some of my more academically inclined classmates were staying behind, but I had been looking forward to having my room all to myself.

  I hadn’t anticipated that Hashim was going to stay, and I definitely hadn’t realized how much I was going to enjoy having him around. There were definitely perks to having him around.

  I liked the way he smelled, which I knew shouldn’t have been a reason to want to be around him. But I liked the scent of Royal Mayfair wafting into the bedroom from the bathroom, mixed with shampoo and shea cocoa moisturizer.

  I loved watching him get dressed in front of the body-length mirror, struggling with getting a Windsor knot on his tie. The boy had been doing them for almost a decade, he should have been able to do it by himself.

  But he hadn’t, and when he asked me to help him out, I melted inside a little bit.

  I finished brushing my teeth. As I turned off the faucet, I heard Brandon and Hashim whispering.

  I smirked a little when I heard my name and edged closer to the door, being careful to make just enough noise so that they wouldn’t get suspicious.

  “So he still hasn’t said anything?” Brandon asked.

  “No,” Hashim replied. “And be quiet, he might hear you.”

  “Ugh,” Brandon said. I heard him sit down on one of the beds. “I know we can’t say anything, I’m just worried about him.”

  I heard Hashim sigh too. I frowned, my heart beating fast in my chest. I wasn’t sure what they were talking about, and it was worrying me.

  “Will we—”

  “No!” Hashim said. “We can’t say anything. We need to make sure he feels safe, y’know, if he wants to—”

  I couldn’t resist anymore. I walked out into the bedroom, my gaze darting between them. “Hey,” I said. “What’s going on, guys?”

  They both looked at each other, neither of them saying a thing. Then Hashim rubbed his temple. “Fuck,” he said. “Jules, I think you better sit down.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  MASON

  I woke up in a white room. The first thing I could identify was the smell of formaldehyde and bleach around me, then something like a pharmacy perfume. I blinked a few times as I tried to focus on where I was.

  The last thing I could remember were Dill’s and Brittany’s screams, all while I drifted in and out of consciousness. I could taste the copper in my mouth as I tried my best to catch my breath. I wasn’t out of breath anymore.

  Every inch of my body felt like it was on fire. I looked down at my arms, which seemed like they were covered in bruises, and wiggled my fingers. I couldn’t understand why relief washed over me when I saw my hands moving.

  My throat and mouth were dry. I coughed and recoiled at the way my body felt when I did.

  “Mason,” I heard someone say. I craned my neck to look at where the voice was coming from. It took me a second to recognize my social worker, her brown hair tied in a bun on top of her hair. I hadn’t seen her for weeks, but she looked like she had aged years.

  “Kelly,” I said, trying my best for a smile. My face didn’t seem to want to respond.

  She patted me on the arm, which made me squirm.

  “Do you know where you are?”

  “Heaven?”

  She cracked a smile then. Her eyes were bloodshot and her lashes were wet. “I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” he said. “Mason, I—”

  “It’s okay,” I said, my mouth dry. “The girls?”

  “They’re okay,” she said after she licked her lips. “It’s okay. They’re okay.”

  I breathed out in relief. “He didn’t get them.”

  “No,” she replied. “And one of your neighbors called the police.”

  I sighed. “When?”

  “A day ago,” she said. “They were so worried about you and I…”

  I tried to reach out to her, but it was as if my body wanted to protest every movement, and I barely managed to move my hand toward her arm. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You should have,” she replied.

  “But then you would have removed me from the home,” I said. “And who was going to look after those girls?”

  She paled, her eyes wide, then shook her head. “Mason,” she said. “You’re not old enough to be looking after anyone else. You’re supposed to be taking care of yourself. The system is supposed to make you feel safe and I—”

  “You didn’t do anything,” I said, this time finally managing to smile at her. “I made a decision. I would do it all over again if it meant that bastard couldn’t touch the girls.”

  She smiled at me, then shook her head. “You’re going to have to stay here until you’re better,” she said. “Then we’ll talk about placing you somewhere else.”

  I shook my head. “No,” I said. “Not another family, please.”

  “You’ve had good families before,” she said.

  “Yeah,” I replied. “And it always sucks so much more when I have to leave them.”

  She sighed. “I don’t have to place you with a family.”

  I closed my eyes. “I don’t want you to place me with anyone,” I said. “Please, Kelly. Can I just get emancipated? I’m not on drugs and I—”

  “No,” she replied, a little more sternly than I had expected. “You’re not old enough for that.”

  “I’m going to age out of the system anyway,” I said. “You might as well let me do it now.”

  “Mason,” she said quietly. “The law literally won’t allow it. You need a job that shows you can support yourself and then you can file the petition, but you won’t be able to for another year. Right now, no court would allow for this.”

  I closed my eyes. I took a deep breath and watched my chest rising up and down. I thought about running away. I could hop on a train and go somewhere cooler in the summer, but warm in the winter.

  I
felt Kelly’s hand on my own. “You can’t run away, Mason,” she said. “It’s dangerous.”

  I glared at her. She took a deep breath, then swallowed.

  “I’m serious,” she said. “If you run away, you’re not going to be able to testify against Dill and Brittany Bennett, and what do you think is going to happen then?”

  I swallowed. “What difference will it make if I testify?” I asked. “He’ll probably get a slap on the wrist.”

  “You don’t know that,” she said. “They’ll never foster children again after what they did to you.”

  “Great,” I said. “Silver linings everywhere.”

  She sighed. “They might have money,” she said. “You could sue them. Get a settlement from them.”

  I chuckled. “Are we talking about the same people? Because I’m pretty sure they’re dirt poor,” I said.

  “They have more in assets than the children are aware of,” she replied quietly. She was going to say something else, but I waved her off. I knew more about the legal system than I wanted to, and one thing I knew for certain was that I could never afford good representation. “Think about it, okay? The girls still need you.”

  I glared at her. I understood that I was being manipulated, but it didn’t seem to matter. She was right. The girls did still need me and there was no way to get out of it. I was going to have to confront Dill again, probably in court, regardless of how many ribs he had broken.

  “What did they get him on?” I asked. “Please say attempted murder.”

  “Aggravated assault,” she replied. “Brittany is insisting you started it.”

  I closed my eyes. “I did,” I replied. “Not that she would have known. She wasn’t there, I don’t think.”

  “You remember it all.”

  “No,” I said. “Not all of it. Just sort of the start.”

  She licked her lips. “We’ll work on getting you a job,” she said. “So you can file for your emancipation on your next birthday and all your documents are in order. How does that sound?”

  I smiled at her then, ignoring the pain shockwaves all over my body every time I moved slightly. “Sounds great, Kelly,” I said. “Thank you. For everything.”

  “Yeah,” she replied, dark tears smudging on her cheeks. “Of course. You know I’m here for you, right?”

  “Yup,” I replied. “I know that.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  JULES

  I sat down between Brandon and Hashim, feeling a little shaky. I had a feeling that I knew exactly what they were talking about, but the thought of it upset me. It was a secret for a reason.

  “Sorry, buddy,” Hashim said, clasping a hand on my shoulder. “We didn’t…”

  “We shouldn’t have been talking about you,” Brandon said.

  I shrugged. “It’s okay,” I replied. “I just—what’s going on?”

  Hashim looked at Brandon, then back at me. “Nothing,” he said. “It’s nothing.”

  “Yeah, I’m definitely going to buy that,” I replied, grimacing.

  “Fuck, Brandon,” Hashim said, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I told you we shouldn’t be talking about this.”

  I glared at him. “You do know I’m right here, right?”

  Hashim groaned, then creaked his neck. I hated it when he did that, so I slapped him on the shoulder, but without much conviction. I was more worried about what they were going to say.

  “So, a few weeks ago,” Hashim said. “When I asked to borrow your laptop so I could work on my Don Quixote essay?”

  “Right…”

  “You’d left a bunch of tabs open,” he said. “And like, okay, some of them were porn, but a lot of them…”

  Brandon sighed. “We’re worried about you,” he said. “Some of the things you posted…”

  “You read my private journal?” I replied, my heart dropping to my stomach. I felt like I was going to faint. Every particle of air seemed to have been sucked out of the room and I was glad I was on the bed, because everything was unsteady.

  They held me up.

  “It was an accident,” Hashim said. “You’re a good writer, I thought… I thought you were just reading someone’s blog or something.”

  “Yeah,” Brandon echoed. “By the time we realized it was you, we were too deep into it.”

  I swallowed, my ears ringing. “You both read my journal?”

  “Not exactly,” Brandon replied. “Hashim found it, I was sort of just there.”

  Hashim looked away from him when I glanced up at his face. I opened my mouth to shout at him, but I couldn’t bring myself to.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wanted to stop reading, it was just, I don’t know, when I realized it was you, I was so worried about you.”

  “You were worried about me,” I repeated.

  Hashim squeezed my shoulder. “Look, I know you’re annoyed with me, but yes,” he said. “And I know, I suck, and you’re allowed to be angry, but Brandon and I have been talking for a few weeks about how to talk to you about it.”

  My gaze darted between them. “You have?”

  “Yes,” Hashim said. “Look, literally not one of us cares if you, as you so colorfully put it, are gayer than a Christmas morning. We do care that you feel like you can’t tell anyone.”

  “Yeah,” Brandon said. “Or that you think you’re alone. Because you’re so not alone.”

  “Definitely not,” Hashim said. “And like, I totally get it. Some of the guys here are hot as fuck.”

  “Right?” Brandon echoed. “And you’re not too bad yourself. Not sure why you haven’t hooked up with anyone yet.”

  “Thanks?” I asked, then shook my head and waved my hands in front of my face. “No, no! I shouldn’t be thanking you. I’m supposed to be mad at you.”

  “Aren’t you?” Hashim asked, with those dark eyes of his all wide and watery.

  I rolled my eyes. “It would be impossible not to be mad at you,” I replied, then took a deep breath. “But it would be hard to ignore how nice you’re being right now.”

  “Yeah,” Brandon replied, smiling at me. “We’re the greatest.”

  “You’re really not,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You guys suck.”

  Brandon nudged me, then Hashim did the same, so I was wavering between them. “Yeah,” Brandon said. “We definitely suck.”

  “But we love you,” Hashim said, draping his arm around my shoulders. I could smell his cologne and his coconut shampoo, and I was sure I was dying a little. “You know that, right?”

  “Yep,” I said. “I definitely know that. But you still have to make it up to me.”

  “Yeah,” Hashim said. “We know.”

  Brandon looked away from me. I nudged him.

  He shook his head. “I didn’t do anything,” he said. “I just happened to be there. I don’t want to be incriminated by something I didn’t do.”

  Hashim tutted. “You’re not being incriminated if you own up to the crime, genius,” he said. “That’s called confessing.”

  “Whatever,” Brandon said. “I feel like I served my sentence by having to keep my mouth shut. Do you know how hard it is?”

  “Brandon is such a gossip,” Hashim whispered to me, as if I didn’t already know that.

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah,” I said. “I know.”

  .

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MASON

  I fumbled to get my keys out of my pocket. It was late, and I was technically only allowed to break curfew because I was working, but I was still under strict orders not to disturb the other residents.

  The other residents didn’t like it when I came in too late, but as far as I was concerned, they could stuff it. There was, of course, no way I would ever say anything like that to them. I did my best to avoid them, but sometimes, one of them would shoulder-check me when we were walking past each other in the hallway, and I would always feel my heart beating fast before I told myself they weren’t worth it.

  I didn’t want to land
in the hospital again after what had happened last time I had gone for someone, and my social worker was always going on about how I needed to prove that I was ready to be by myself if we were going to get the courts to grant me my emancipation. I was finally going to be independent, but if I wanted to do that, I needed to make sure I had savings and that I didn’t end up being charged for a crime.

  I was thinking about that when the door opened in front of me. David was staring me down. He was built like a linebacker, but the bald patch on top of his head betrayed his age. “Oh,” he said. “It’s you.”

  “Hi,” I replied, flashing him my sweetest smile.

  He rolled his eyes, but he laughed. “You’re late,” he said as he opened the door for me. “You know what that means, right?”

  I licked my lips. “Whatever,” I said. “I just wanted to catch up on some sleep this weekend anyway.”

  He shook his head. I followed him down the hallway, though I wanted to go to sleep. I knew he had to write me up, but I was having trouble focusing enough to walk in a straight line.

  “A kid your age should be out more,” he said. “It’s not healthy to spend all your weekends here.”

  I shrugged. “I need to sleep sometime, David,” I said.

  He opened the door to his office and then turned on the dim yellow light. It was sparsely decorated, with only a picture of his family on his desk, and one of those motivational posters with a kitten in the stock photo.

  He pointed toward a chair, then walked around the desk. “Mason,” he said, looking right at me. “This is exactly why we have curfews.”

  “I thought you had curfews so you could catch all of us doing drugs,” I replied. “And fucking each other.”

  He waved me off. “Stop it,” he said. “This is serious.”

  “I know,” I replied.

  “You were one strike away from being barred from staying here,” he said quietly.

  I cocked my head and swallowed. “David,” I said. “You know that’s unreasonable. My boss asked me to stay to cover Raquel’s shift. There’s no—”

  “And that’s all very commendable,” he said. “Look, Mason, you’re obviously a hard worker, but we can’t break the rules for you. The rules are there for a reason.”