No luck—it will need another wash before people stop confusing me for a clown. My gaze tracks to the small window on the side of the restroom.
What time is it?
I bundle my pajamas against my stomach. The only laundry hamper I know of is the one in the showers, but I’m sure as hell not going there. I’m sure it’s full of naked boys. And the only naked boys I want to see are a select few who I’m pretty sure wouldn’t be caught dead in that place again.
I’m still blushing at that thought when I let myself back into my room and shove my dirty clothes under my bed.
“Idiot,” Jasper mutters from his bed. He’s lying on his back, a dog-eared copy of Metamorphosis propped on his stomach.
“Jerk,” I snap back. I tug at the hem of my school dress and flounce out of the room.
My stomach keeps alternating between a hungry pit and a maelstrom of bile and stomach acid. Apollo had murmured something about coffee to me when they’d been sneaking me back inside, wrapped in a blanket with nothing but underwear beneath. If it hadn’t been for them, I’d have peed myself at the thought of having to get back to my room without someone seeing me.
So coffee. Possibly breakfast.
Oh Lord. Do I have more gruel to look forward to?
I pause in the hallway, a hand on my stomach. I have to stop thinking about that or I’ll fucking puke.
I’m used to the hallways being empty around here. It seems the only time there’re lots of activities is in the morning when all the boys rush to go shower before pray—
Wait. Did I miss prayer?
I peek down the hallway and spot a boy heading toward me, hair wet and a towel dangling from his shoulders.
“Sorry?” I call out, stepping into the hallway.
He takes me in with a frown. “Yeah?”
“Were there prayers this morning?”
“It’s Saturday,” he says, frown deepening as he moves past me.
I throw up my hands at his retreating back.
I risk a peek outside. There’s not a cloud in the sky and, judging from the position of the sun, it’s early. I should have checked my schedule. Were the weekend activities even on there?
Opening the door wider, I step outside to catch some sun on my face before heading for the dining hall.
I’m not the last to arrive—there are a handful of trays still left on the table. Including mine—bright pink post-it still intact.
TRINITY MALONE
I grimace before I notice there’s a little heart above each of the I’s in my name and then a butterfly starts fluttering around in my stomach. I grab my tray and turn to look for an empty spot.
On cue, the snickers begin. I spot a few gaps, but every time I get near, they miraculously close up.
Not all miracles are divine.
Assholes.
There’s something different about the boys today, but I’m too busy trying to ignore their awful giggles to figure out what it is.
Movement draws my eye. Apollo’s waving at me through the kitchen door’s window.
A second butterfly joins the first.
Zach said he’d send for me to discuss what they wanted me to do next. Is that why Apollo’s calling me? I hadn’t thought it would be so soon. I’d hoped to get my head straight by then.
I swallow and walk across the dining hall.
I haven’t had a chance to process the past twenty-four hours. I’ve never felt this conflicted in my life. I want to hate those guys—hell, of course I hate them—but after hearing their stories…is it any wonder they’re so fucked up?
But what about Father Gabriel? The stuff they told me about him? I can’t even begin to process that.
Zach told me Father Gabriel would be back tomorrow.
Apollo pushes open the door when I get close, and beckons me inside with a charming, lopsided smile.
“Hi,” I say, fumbling with my tray as I push a stray curl behind my ear.
He cocks his head and leads me to a steel door. Daylight streams in when he opens it. I step into a courtyard that smells of damp bricks. There’s a concrete table and four stools in the center.
There’s a sickly pot plant in one corner, and another steel doorway opposite. Someone left their boots next to that door.
“Where does that go?” I ask, digging the edge of the tray into my stomach and trying not to look like a complete idiot.
“You don’t have to wear your uniform on weekends,” Apollo says, his back to me as he pulls out a packet of cigarettes and lights one. I look down at myself, close my eyes, and curse inwardly.
That’s what was different about the boys. They were wearing normal clothes, not their usual drab brown.
Is that what Jasper was trying to tell me?
I am an idiot.
“Still have to get used to things around here,” I murmur, heading for the table so I can put my tray down.
“Why bother? Not like you’re going to be here much longer.”
My tray clatters onto the table. I turn to Apollo, mouth gaping. “What do you mean?”
He points to one of the stools. “Sit. Eat.”
“No.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Tell me what that’s supposed to mean.”
Instead, he smokes his cigarette and stares at me through a gap in his blond hair. Did he wash it? I bet he has his own bathroom. “Sit.”
I sink down, wincing when the icy concrete touches the back of my thighs.
“Eat.”
Glaring at him doesn’t work, so I let out a huge sigh and tear the plastic wrap from my tray.
Someone cut my toast into the shape of a heart. I look up at Apollo, deadpan.
He grins with one side of his mouth, blowing cigarette smoke my way as he drags his hair out of his face. “For the shit food I made you yesterday,” he says.
I grab a piece of toast and start nibbling on it. “Please tell me what you meant.” Maybe good manners will help me get through to this guy because being rude sure as hell didn’t.
He puts his foot on the stool opposite mine, the table now between us. Taking another drag of his smoke, he leans his elbows on his raised knee, studying me for a few seconds before speaking.
He holds up two fingers. “We got two scenarios here.”
I frown at him.
“First…we’re right, you’re wrong.” He shrugs. “When it all comes to light, shit’s going to go down. Big time. This place—” he flicks his fingers up, taking in Saint Amos towering above us on all sides “—will probably get shut down. Feds would ransack it. Everyone gets arrested. Etcetera, etcetera.”
A chill shivers down my spine. I’m so convinced they’re wrong about Father Gabriel I never even considered what would happen if, by some slight chance, they turned out to be right. I couldn’t stay here. I’d be back in foster care until…when? I’m finished school? Then what?
Lord, but it’s difficult to keep eye contact with Apollo. Paired against Zach and Reuben and Cassius, he seemed almost forgettable. But with his hair out of his face, his high, sharp cheekbones are more distinct. And his mouth? It’s impossible not to watch him every time he takes a drag of his cigarette.
Eyes, Trinity. Eyes!
My gaze snaps back to his eyes. The crinkle in the corner of each tells me he knows exactly what I’m thinking.