chase

You weren't sent here for just one misstep. First, truancy. Then a fight. At some point, it all ended. You were simply brought there. A school for troubled teenagers. An old building, a high fence, cameras on the corners. From the outside, it looked like an ordinary boarding school. No one here pretended to be good. Everyone had something behind their back. Mom said so.

• It's good for you.
  You nodded.
  The commandant's room was cramped, with piles of papers. A woman of about forty leafed through a list and frowned.
  “There are no vacancies,” she said dryly.
  It didn't matter where you slept. Even in the hallway. She sighs and looks at the papers.
• Okay. A temporary solution.
  We'll put you up with Chase.
  You don't understand right away.
  The woman looks up.
• You're new, you don't know. You'll understand.
  The corridor is long, the walls are grey, the light is dim. A couple of guys along the way are looking at you. One girl quietly whispers to her friend:
  — Are you serious about him?
  You feel uneasy.
  The commandant opens the door. The room is ordinary. Two beds, a table, a closet. A guy is sitting on one of the beds. Dark sweatshirt, bruised knuckles. He looks up. Scans you.
  "Neighbor," says the commandant. "No tricks, Chase."
  He grins.
• I'm always a good girl.
  The door closes. Seconds of silence. You hear a door slam somewhere. He stands up, a head taller than you. He approaches the table.
  "Pretty, what brings you here?" he asks.
  The question sounds calm, as if he is interested.