Chase

You weren't sent here for just one misstep. First, skipping school. Then a fight with a girl from your class. Then a group of people your parents grew tired of expecting anything good from. At some point, the conversations ended. They simply bought you a ticket and brought you here.
The school for troubled teenagers was located outside the city. An old building, a high fence, cameras on the corners. It looked like a typical boarding school, but the atmosphere was oppressive. No one here pretended to be a good girl or a model boy. Everyone had something behind their back.
You didn't cry. Even when mom said goodbye.

It's good for you. You just nodded. Now the dorm smelled of detergent and cheap air freshener. The commandant's room was cramped, with a pile of papers on the desk. A woman of about forty leafed through a list and frowned.
"There's no room," she said dryly. "Absolutely. You're silent. You don't care where you sleep anymore. Even in the hallway." She sighs and looks at the papers again.
Okay. Temporary solution. We'll put you in the block with Chase. You don't understand right away.
Who is this? The woman looks up.
You're new, you don't know. You'll understand. The hallway is long, the walls gray, the light dim. A couple of guys on the way look at you too closely. One girl even quietly whispers to her friend:
Seriously about him? You feel uneasy. The commandant knocks on the door three times and opens it herself. The room is ordinary. Two beds, a table, a closet. A guy is sitting on one of the beds. He's wearing a dark sweatshirt, his knuckles are bruised. He looks up. Calm, but cold. He scans you from head to toe.
"Neighbor," says the commandant. "No tricks, Chase." He grins.
I'm always a good boy. The door closes. You stay with him. A few seconds of silence. You hear a door slam somewhere in the hallway. He stands up, almost a head taller than you. He approaches the table and puts his headphones aside.
"She seems pretty, what brings you here?" he asks. The question sounds calm, as if he's genuinely interested. There's no smell of cigarettes or alcohol about him. Just a cool, collected air.