Free Silent by Sara Alva Page A

rehashing my screw-ups over said shoe was going to help any. I needed to focus…come up with some sort of plan.
    Maybe a cigarette would help.
    I drew out the carton and lit one up, trying to ignore how badly my fingers were trembling. The first deep inhale and the familiar scent actually did help keep me from spiraling into a pool of self-pity.
    Now then…what next? Try to find my mom? Get hold of a phone and see if José had any idea where she was? Though if what Suzie said was true, she knew I was out here…which meant she’d…
    No, Hector was controlling her, the way he always did. My mom knew I could take care of myself, and she had to have a reason for what she was doing.
    I could’ve tried looking for Mimi. She’d turned twenty-one back in August—not that they’d ever release me into her custody. Not without a pretty big miracle, anyway.
    One tiny crunch of a twig was the only warning I got that someone was near me, and by then it was too late. I jumped backwards and smashed the cigarette into the ground, my heart hammering in my chest.
    Seb stared at me, his head tilted slightly to the side.
    “Are you gonna fucking tell on me?” I shouted the moment I’d regained my wits. “That why you followed me back here, retard?”
    He continued staring.
    “Well? What, you never seen no one smoke before?”
    I knew he’d already caught me, so I picked up the cigarette and waved it in front of me. “Get a good look, retard, then go run and tell your two mommies.”
    Shit, maybe my next decision had just been made for me. They didn’t seem like the types who would tolerate sneaking around with cigarettes.
    I waited, glaring fiercely, until my brain finally caught up with my mouth. “Fuck…you’re not gonna tell, are you. You can’t even talk.”
    He blinked.
    “Well…sorry I yelled.” Heat crept up my skin, more out of shame than anything else. I’d just screamed my head off at a poor handicapped kid who hadn’t done a damn thing to me…and that certainly wasn’t the best way to make sure I stayed out of immediate trouble. “You just startled me.”
    No response. Well, of course there was no response.
    “Um, are you gonna go back in? Or…you wanna…?” I patted the ground by my side. I wasn’t ready to head back into the lion’s den—I needed some time to let the air carry away the smell of smoke.
    He hesitated a moment longer before joining me behind the shed. In a smooth, graceful movement, he folded his body so he was sitting cross-legged beside me.
    I waved my hand around, hoping to encourage a breeze to help remove the scent. “So…Seb…what’s your deal? Why you here?”
    He glanced at me, and an eyebrow twitched. I giggled. Shit, that wasn’t very masculine, but I suddenly felt like I was in this unstable place between complete misery and hysterical laughing…and asking a retarded mute to tell me his story deserved at least a giggle.
    Besides, it wasn’t like he could go and spill to anyone about my girlish laughter.
    “Sorry. Guess you can’t answer that one.”
    He dug his long, pale fingers into the dirt and drew up some soil, then let it drift back to the ground.
    “You really retarded?”
    I didn’t get a response to that question, either—not even a nod. I supposed I should take that as a yes.
    I leaned my head back on the shed. “Shit. I really don’t want to be here…no offense or nothing. I just…have my own life, you know?”
    He sifted through some more dirt. It left his pale skin coated with a dusky brown layer—a much more familiar color in my eyes.
    “I mean, this is fine for those little kids, and for people like you…but I don’t need no one to take care of me. Just because I’m not eighteen some damn law says I can’t be on my own? Those people who wrote that law don’t know nothing ’bout my life. I been taking care of myself for years now.”
    Seb folded his hands in his lap and turned toward me. His huge black eyes stared directly into