Free Inferno by Robin Stevenson Page A

annoying us. I’ve never known anyone who had their own place.
    â€œThis is great,” I say.
    Parker laughs. “It’s a dive. But at least my parents don’t live here.” A shadow flickers behind her eyes. “At least I don’t have to take orders from them or listen to them fighting all night.”
    I don’t know what to say.
    â€œSheets.” Jamie dumps a pile of white cloth on the floor. “I’ll get the paint.”
    Parker follows Jamie. Leo kneels on the floor and starts spreading out the sheets. “I’m glad you’ve joined our group,” he says. He sits back on his heels and looks at me for a long time.
    I start to squirm under his gaze. I clear my throat and grab the other end of the sheet to help straighten it out and to give me an excuse to look away. “Sure,” I say. “Me too.”
    â€œDo I make you uncomfortable?”
    â€œNo. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
    â€œSorry. I do, don’t I? Parker says I make too much eye contact.”
    I look up at him, surprised. “She does?”
    â€œYeah. She says I freak people out. That I’m too intense.”
    â€œI don’t think you’re too intense.”
    â€œMe neither. I think most people aren’t intense enough.”
    I laugh.
    He laughs too; then he shakes his head. “I mean it. Most people are like...diluted. Anaesthetized, you know? They go around all numbed out by TV or religion or trash media, brainwashed, not thinking for themselves.”
    â€œMy mother’s like that,” I blurt. “She’s all about scrap-booking and keeping our house looking like a show home and making sure her nails are perfectly manicured. Like that’s what she thinks is important in life.” I feel a twinge of guilt. I know I’m not being fair to my mom.
Appearances are what people judge us by
, she says.
It may not be fair but that’s the way it is
.
    â€œExactly.” Leo holds my gaze again. “People don’t really connect with each other. They’re all in their own little bubbles.”
    â€œYes. Yes!” The words tumble out. “That’s just how it is.” I think about how I move through my days at school, feeling so alone half the time even though I’m surrounded by people. “Like we’re all on separate islands and we don’t ever meet up at all. We just sort of...float on by.” I’ve mixed up his bubble metaphor with my island one, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
    Leo starts to roll a joint. “Smoke?”
    â€œNo. I don’t do drugs.”
    â€œIt’s totally natural, you know? And it’s way less addictive than alcohol. Shouldn’t be illegal.”
    I shake my head. “You don’t have to convince me. I don’t have a problem with it or anything; I just don’t like how it makes me feel.”
    â€œHow’s that?”
    I think about the handful of times I’ve tried it with the stoners at school. “Um, sort of anxious, I guess.”
    â€œProbably bad stuff. Not pure, you know?”
    People who smoke pot always want you to join them. Like Linnea and her friends at school. I don’t get it. I’d be happy to hang out with them and not smoke, but it’s like they take it personally or something. Like I’m criticizing them. I get tired of explaining that I’m just not into it. “I’m a runner,” I say instead. “I like to keep my lungs clean.”
    â€œHey, slackers.” Jamie puts down two large paint cans, long ribbons of dried paint caked on their sides. Parker steps into the room behind him and looks at Leo and then at me. Her arms are full of assorted paintbrushes.
    â€œWell,” Jamie says. “Let’s get to work.”

ELEVEN
    It is two in the morning
when we finish the sign.
    â€œI’d better get home,” I say reluctantly. The room is smoky and my eyes are stinging. “My mom