Free Quarantine #2: The Saints by Lex Thomas Page A

confused.
    “That’s not funny.”
    “I’m not laughing. I’m just saying, that’s what you are.”
    “Why are you talking like this?”
    “Think about it. You always hide. In the Pretty Ones. Behind David. Why not behind Zachary?”
    “I’m trying to help you, Will.”
    “Don’t strain yourself.”
    “Don’t say this stuff. You don’t mean it!”
    “Why are you here?” Will said. “Why don’t you just walkto the auditorium right now? You probably have your bag packed. Am I right?”
    Lucy didn’t answer. She looked down.
    “Then go,” he said. “Get the fuck out of here. I don’t want you around me.”
    “No!” she said. “You can’t do this. I won’t leave you.”
    She cried. She was going to hate him, but that was better. If she hated him, she might be able to forget about him.
    “Do yourself a favor …”
    She looked up, cheeks wobbling, eyelashes clumped by tears. “… and fuck off,” Will said.
    She slapped him. She disappeared up the stairs, crying, then came back down, with a small, half-full backpack over her shoulder, and her phone lit up in her hand. She walked right past him and her phone’s glow faded off down the stairs toward the ground floor exit.
    If he was going to go after her, this was his chance. To take it back. There was still a window, he hadn’t heard the door open or shut yet.
    Will struggled to his feet. He let the crinkly blanket fall off him as he trudged to the top of the stairs. Down past the darkness of the stairwell he saw Lucy standing at the open door, her cell phone shining on her face. She looked up at him. If he persuaded her to stay, she’d only leave later. He could never be what she needed.
    “Don’t come back! You hear me?” Will shouted. “I don’t want your pity!”
    She slammed the door shut and left. Will walked back to the sink fire and sat. He tried to let the flames warm him. They wouldn’t last long. The cold of the empty Stairs would win in the end. Will had better get used to it. He was alone for good.

11
    “I WANT TO BE A SLUT,” LUCY SAID.
    Violent looked surprised. She stood in the doorway to the cafeteria, holding the door open. There was an ugly Slut beside her, who was topless. These girls were a marvel. Even their breasts were aggressive. Violent looked different in the middle of the night. Her red hair was a mess, and the stitched seam of her pillow had left its imprint across her cheek. She wore a XXL boy’s black T-shirt, full of holes and rips. Without her tape eyebrows, her sinister makeup, and all the spiky armor, Violent almost looked nice, like a mom. A mom with no eyebrows.
    “Violent, I know I missed the deadline on your offer, but—”
    Violent raised her hand to quiet her. She pulled Lucy close and wrapped her in a sturdy hug. It took Lucy completely by surprise.
    “Ssh,” Violent said. “Come in. We can talk in the morning. Right now it’s time to sleep.”
    That was good by Lucy. She’d never felt so drained. The empty cafeteria was quiet. It smelled faintly of berries. Everything was clean and organized, every weapon hanging in its place on the far wall, like the pegboard wall of tools her dad used to have in their garage. The main floor of the cafeteria had been cleared away. The dining hall tables were broken down and stashed up against one wall. The beige plastic cafeteria chairs were stacked high next to them.
    “Lips, get her a mattress,” Violent said to the topless girl. Lips. It was a joke of a nickname. The girl barely had any lips at all. They were just thin, flat strips of skin. It was almost like her face stopped and her mouth began without an intermediary step. Lips nodded to Violent and walked off.
    Violent led Lucy toward the kitchen without a word. She stopped at the doorway and took her shoes off. Lucy figured she should do the same. She put her stuff down and slipped off her white canvas sneaks that had served her for so long. It was a lie to call them white. She couldn’t wash