Free Shock Point by April Henry

It’s better not to be alone with him, if you know what I mean.”
    Tears pricked at the back of Cassie’s eyes, but she had already cried too many times today to cry any more. “How come he’s not Father Chadwick?”
    Rebecca shook her head as if Cassie were being deliberately stupid. “Because he’s a teacher. Only the heads of the boy’s families are known as fathers. Them and Father Gary. He founded this whole place.”
    “How many other kids are here?”
    “More than a hundred boys and about eighty girls. All from the States. But don’t even dare look at the boys. Eye contact is unauthorized nonverbal communication. You might be by a boy at a PGV or in class, but you don’t look at them, you don’t talk to them, and you sure as hell don’t touch them.” She leaned closer. “And listen. Don’t you dare screw up or it reflects back on me, okay? Until you learn the rules, I will be watching everything you do. And I mean everything. And don’t think just because I’m your ’buddy’ that I won’t turn you in if you do something wrong. Because if I don’t, I can get busted, too. And there’s no way I’m going back down to Level One. Not when I can get to Level Six and finally get home.”
    “How long have you been here?” Cassie asked.
    “Two years, five months, and eighteen days,” Rebecca answered without even having to think. “I was fourteen when my mom sent me here.”
    Cassie felt dizzy. She put one hand against the wall to steady herself. There was no way she herself could be here that long. Years and years and years? “What did you do wrong?”
    “I was dating a boy who was nineteen. It was completely inappropriate. My mom was afraid I was going to get in trouble.” She looked at her watch. “It’s dinnertime.” Cassie’s stomach gave an answering growl. “You walk in behind me and you do what I do. And remember—don’t talk and don’t look at anyone.”
    Cassie picked up the tattered paper sack Martha had given her for her belongings and followed Rebecca as they walked through the now-empty office and out into the corridor. They went through several hallways and into a large room where dozens of teenagers sat in cheap white plastic patio chairs, eating from mismatched tables painted white. A wide aisle separated the girls from the boys. The only sounds in the room came from cutlery, chewing, and a loud voice issuing from a tape player on a card table next to two guards who stood with their arms crossed.
    As she walked in behind Rebecca, Cassie could feel dozens of pairs of eyes flick across her, but no one looked at her directly. Then she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to be looking at the other kids at all, so she looked at Rebecca’s straight back instead.
    After putting her belongings down in the corner where Rebecca indicated, Cassie did everything Rebecca did. She took a battered metal tray from a pile, then a piece of bread, a plastic glass filled with something bright orange, a metal spoon, and finally a chipped white china bowl into which a Mexican woman ladled soup. Cassie’s stomach rumbled. Rebecca sat down at a table that had two empty places, and Cassie took the seat opposite her.
    The voice on the tape player was talking about self-confidence. “ Put a smile on your face and lift your head up, and you’ll soon find that your attitude has adjusted to suit your expression.”
    Cassie’s drink was gone in one gulp—it tasted like watery Tang—and only then did she realize that no one was getting up to get more of anything. She picked up the bread and began to eat it. There was no butter, and certainly no olive oil or sea salt, like there was in the restaurants Rick liked to go to. The bread had a strange, almost sandy texture, but she was so hungry, she didn’t care. The other kids ate as eagerly, scraping their spoons against their nearly empty bowls, or running a crust of bread over the bottom to get any lingering juices. Forgetting again that she was