Christopher and Juliet had been married for twelve years but they still did the cheesy stuff newlywed did. It was fun seeing Christopher get embarrassed, but who could blame him? Juliet was amazing. She was kind, beautiful, and so down to earth. She was smart too. I could listen to her talk all day. She also suggested a list of her favorite books, although I never read. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t have the time or the money. Every penny I made went to necessities such as food and clothes. But Juliet said she’d lend me anything I wanted to read.

  Juliet and I got along more than I had hoped. My guard was down whenever I was with her. I tried to remind myself that I was leaving soon and that everything was only temporary. I'd already made the mistake of getting too attached once and I wasn't planning on doing it again.

  Things were still awkward between Christopher and me. Whenever Juliet left the room, there would be long silences and forced conversations. I didn’t know why he was so uncomfortable around me. I could tell he was being cautious around me. It was almost as if he was the one who was afraid to get attached.

  Juliet cooked while Christopher did the dishes. They bickered a lot but at the end of the day, they’d find each other on the living room couch and talk about their day over a cup of hot chocolate. You could tell they loved each other. I wondered why they didn’t have any kids.

  “Hand me your plate, Axis,” Juliet said, taking the casserole out of the oven and placing it on the long dining table.

  "I can do it myself," I replied as politely as I could. She rolled her eyes.

  "Oh, don't be silly.” She took my plate and filled it with heaps of mashed potato and meat. Steam rose and the smell made my mouth water.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  She smiled as she filled Christopher's plate. "So, tell me about yourself."

  Christopher snorted. "Don't bother. He doesn't like answering questions."

  “Right, because you would totally be comfortable answering questions while being handcuffed,” I countered with an eye roll.

  Juliet sighed. “I still can’t believe you handcuffed him.”

  I smiled when she sided with me, casting Christopher a smug look.

  “Chief’s orders,” he mumbled.

  “I’m going to have to have a word with that man,” she huffed before turning towards me. “Do you have any hobbies?"

  "I never had the chance to find out.”

  She frowned, and I didn’t want to make her sad, so I quickly said, “I like to eat, if that counts. The food is delicious by the way.”

  "Eat as much as you'd like. There's dessert in the fridge.”

  Christopher and Juliet were nice and tried to ask normal questions but considering my abnormal situation, the answers I gave them often made things awkward. When we finished eating, I offered to do the dishes, but Christopher told me I could rest.

  "I can throw out the trash if you want,” I said.

  "No, it's fine, don't worry," he assured me, but I caught the look in his eyes.

  “You’re scared I'm going to run away, aren't you?”

  He awkwardly rubbed his neck.

  "You really think I'm going to run away with a bag of trash? A bag of your trash?"

  "I'm not allowed to let you outside the house unsupervised," he explained apologetically.

  "Whatever.”

  Before he could say anything, I gave him a lazy wave and headed upstairs. I washed up and put on the pajamas Christopher lent me. He told me they were his old clothes from high school, but I don’t think he realized that the price tags were still attached to them.

  I went to my room and closed the door, locking it out of habit. I plopped onto the bed, sinking into the soft sheets. A smile tugged on my lips, but I pressed the flat of my palms against my eyes and shook my head.

  “Don’t get used to it,” I scolded myself as my hand found the ring around my neck. I rubbed the pad of my thumb against the cheap metal for comfort. I should have thrown it out ages ago, but it helped me when I felt anxious. It made me feel as if he was still with me.

  A groan escaped my throat. I still couldn’t forget him. I couldn’t even find myself to hate him. Where was he? Was he okay? Was he alive? Did he stay awake every night thinking about me the way I thought about him? Did he even remember me?

  I let out a heavy sigh.

  Don't be foolish, Axis. If he cared, he would have come back for you.

  I let the ring fall to my chest, tucking it behind my shirt.

  A million times I'd tried to throw away the ring.

  A million times I’d failed.

  Chapter 4: The Orphanage

  I dreamed I was in the orphanage again. The building was on the outskirts of the city, away from the public’s eye. Even on a sunny day, the three-story building somehow managed to look dull and gray. The walls were old, and the paint was worn off. Nothing was new and everything looked like it had been abandoned, and not just the children. I looked to my left and saw a small girl standing on a wobbly chair, pressing on the tip of her toes to peek through the cracked window. You could see the gate through that window, but it wasn’t the gate that interested her. It was the visitors.

  I was in the common room. The caretakers were rushing the children to get ready. For once, the room was filled with excitement. Everyone was in their best clothes and was polishing their appearance. The girls brushed their hair or tied them in high pigtails while the boys tucked their shirts neatly into their pants. Today was the Big Day. It was like a walk to the fair, except instead of bidding off animals, they bid off orphans. Couples would come and look at us as if we were circus animals, waiting for us to do tricks and entertain them. Everyone was smiling, but you could see the eagerness and desperation in their eyes.

  I used to be one of them, trying my best to impress strangers in hopes to find a home and family. It took me a few years to realize that nobody wanted me.

  "Eric, your shirt should be tucked in your pants!" one of the caretakers snapped. She slipped the hem of my shirt into my pants and flattened my hair with the remaining gel she used on the previous boy. I pulled away from her and gave her the angriest look an eight-year-old could make.

  “No.”

  "You have to make yourself presentable. Don't you want to find a home?" she asked.

  "No one ever chooses me."

  She kneeled in front of me to reach my eye level, putting her hand on my small shoulder. She smiled but looked at me with pity.

  "Maybe today will be the day, so behave yourself, okay?”

  A kid started crying and she stood up, rushing to her aid. When she was gone, I pulled my shirt out of my pants and ruffled my hair, heading to the pantry for a juice box. We weren’t allowed to go in there without their permission, but I figured if I couldn’t have a home, then I could at least have a juice box.

  I pulled a wooden stool against the door and climbed onto it, using the key I had stolen to unlock it. I took a juice box from one of the shelves and walked down the hallway until I heard a faint noise. Someone was crying.

  I followed the sobs, which led to a door. Carefully, I pressed my ear against the wooden surface. I jumped when someone banged against it. The doorknob twisted violently; someone was trapped inside.

  I quickly used the master key to unlock the door. As soon as the lock clicked, the door swung open, knocking me on my bum. I whipped my head back as someone dashed out. The boy didn’t get very far and tripped on his feet. He crawled on all fours to a corner, hugging his knees close to his chest and bursting into more sobs. He was so small and frail; you’d think he was made only out of bones.

  I picked myself up and slowly approached him.

  "Hey," I said, but he was too busy crying to notice my presence.

  I kicked the tip of his shoe to get his attention, and his face shot up in surprise. His bright, blue eyes caught me by surprise like an unexpected ray of light. I found myself staring into what looked like the ocean, even though I’d never seen it before. His dark hair fell over his forehead and his face was covered in tears and snot, but that didn’t hide away his beauty. He looked so pretty it made me want to tuck my shirt back into my pants, which was weird.

  After an eternity, I finally spoke. “Why are you crying?”

  He didn’t answer. I stretched out my hand and he flinched, raising his hands to protect himself.

  "I'm not going to hurt you.”

  He didn’t answer, his timid gaze falling to the floor. He was scared of me.

  I looked down at my juice box and poked the hole with the straw, handing it to him.

  "Here, you can have this."

  He didn't know what “this” was since he was so busy staring at my shoes, so I put the juice box in his hands before sitting down next to him. He didn't push me away this time.

  "Did someone lock you inside?" I asked.

  He gave me a small nod.

  “Why?”

  He didn’t want to tell me. I had a feeling that the other boys locked him inside so he wouldn’t be able to attend the Big Day. Cute boys like him meant competition. He was a threat to them.

  "Who locked you inside?"

  He didn't answer.

  "What's your name?" I asked, watching him drink the juice box.

  No answer.

  I glanced at his name tag. We all had to wear one on the Big Day.

  Adam.

  His lips trembled against the straw and he started crying again. I made a face. He was weak. Too weak. He’d never survive in the orphanage. It was painfully obvious that he couldn’t fend for himself. Places like this were about survival. If you couldn’t stand up for yourself, you’d get eaten up by the others. Any moving target was a victim, and if you couldn’t prove them otherwise, you’d end up even more miserable than you already were. People came in here looking for children, but little did they know, they were all monsters.

  "Stop being a baby," I sighed, roughly wiping away his tears with my sleeve. He made a face and pulled away.

  "You're covered in snot.” But when I tried to get closer, he kicked me in the ribs. I yelped in pain, and he crawled away.

  Glaring at him, I spat, "Fine, you want to be alone? Then stay alone. I'm leaving."

  But when I stood up, he caught the hem of my shirt.

  "Eric.”

  My head spun around in surprise. How did he know my name? I wasn’t even wearing a name tag.

  “Don’t go,” he stuttered.

  He tugged on my shirt, so I sat back down. When he rested his head on my shoulder, I felt my anger melt away. A long silence hung in the air between us and I could hear his gentle breaths and feel his chest rise and fall.

  "How old are you?" I asked.

  I thought he wouldn’t answer.

  "Seven."

  Adam was a year younger than me.

  Chapter 5: Serpenti High

  “Axis,” someone whispered. “Axis, wake up.”

  I groaned, swatting my hand in the air to shoo away the voice.

  “Axis,” the hoarse voice repeated.

  “Fuck off,” I growled, turning my head the other way.

  “Eric!”

  My eyes flung open.

  "Don’t go!" I rasped. My mind was still lingering on the fragments of memories I had of Adam, and it caused a pain in my chest that made it hard to breathe. I blinked and reality slowly whirled into place. I was no longer in the orphanage. Christopher was sitting beside me, looking at me with a worried look in his eyes. We were in his police car on our way to Serpenti High.

  Serpenti High.

  My face fell into my hands and I let out a loud groan, running my fingers through the strands of my hair.

  “I told you not to call me that,” I snapped.

  "You weren’t answering when I said Axis.”

  "Would you like it if I called you Sir Benedict of Pantyhose?” I hissed. “No, so use my name. My real one."

  He studied my face, then nodded.

  “Sorry. Are you ready for the big day?"

  The Big Day.

  My jaw tightened. The papers were completed, and my name was officially enrolled in Serpenti High. I said goodbye to Juliet this morning. She couldn’t come with us because she had to work. She hugged me tightly and told me that I could stay with them during vacation, and that if I had any problems, I could call her or Christopher.

  I was going to miss her. I didn’t tell her that, but I knew I would. Her warmth and hospitality made me uncomfortable only because it was something I always wanted but never had. When we said goodbye, I gave her an awkward wave, but she pulled me and embraced me tightly. I hugged her back knowing I’d never see her again. I regretted never thanking her for everything she’d done.

  "We're here," Christopher announced.

  I looked up and gulped. The gates stood around fifteen feet high, a brooding, gray mass of steel topped by razor wire. There was no beauty in the design—only brutal efficiency. The only color in sight was on the warning signage—everything else was bleak. It looked like a prison for the worst criminals in the country. Retractable security grilles secured every window, and guards were stationed in front of the entrance.

  This was worse than I’d thought.

  We were stopped at the gates. Christopher lowered his window and spoke to the guard who came up to us. He checked our IDs, exchanged a couple of words with Christopher, then allowed us in. It was raining outside, and I didn’t have an umbrella. Christopher offered me his, but I shook my head. I grabbed my bag and went up the stairs. It was only when we entered the building that I realized Christopher had held his umbrella over my head and that his shoulders were wet. I narrowed my eyes at him, but he pretended not to notice.

  More guards greeted us. None of them smiled. A simple nod was all we got.

  “Axis Imber?” said the brawny man. His eyes were dark and hollow, like a resurrected man whose soul never returned.

  “Yeah,” I managed to reply.

  “Welcome to Serpenti High,” he said in an unwelcoming tone. “I’ll take you to your dorms. You’ll have to say goodbye to your dad."

  My face turned red and I blurted, "He's not my dad," but the guard didn't care.

  You know what? Fuck you too, man.

  I turned towards Christopher. Sentimental moments that required emotional vulnerability weren’t my forte, and it didn’t seem to be his either. I didn’t know how to tell him goodbye. People normally left me without a word. This was new to me.

  “Right, well, see ya.” But I felt a surge of regret as the words came out of my mouth. Strange. It was as if I didn’t want him to leave.

  “I’ll visit you soon,” he promised.

  I’d heard that lie too many times, but I smiled anyway.

  “Sure.”

  “Stay out of trouble, okay?”

  I gave him a thumbs up and turned around to leave, but he pulled me in and hugged me tightly. His strong arms and warm hug expressed all the words he couldn't say. I felt a lump in my throat and was tempted to hug him back. Even if we had a rocky start, he was a good man. I forced my arms to stay glued to my sides.

  “Take care of yourself, Axis.” His voice was filled with emotion. “We’ll see each other during vacation. Juliet will be more than thrilled to see you.”

  “Sure.” My voice was tight.

  Don’t go.

  “You have my number?”

  Don’t go.

  I smiled. “Juliet gave me hers too.”

  Don’t go.

  “Call us whenever you need something. Anything.”

  I watched him leave, feeling the words bubble up to my throat: don't go.

  But I knew better.

  ***

  The tall, brawny guard led me down the hallway. When we turned around the corner, my brows shot up in surprise. There was a man sitting behind a desk with an X-ray machine and a metal detector, exactly like the ones you saw at airports.

  “We need to scan your belongings,” the guard informed as he took out a bin for me to put my bag in. “Do you have any electronics with you?”

  I shook my head. I only had the “old” clothes Christopher gave me.

  “Do you have anything sharp or lethal?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “If you have any items that may potentially threaten your teachers and classmates, throw them in the blue trash can. If you’re caught with any weapons or drugs, they will be confiscated immediately. We will not hesitate to use force if you refuse to cooperate. Electronics, drugs, knives, weapons, or anything that can create or cause a fire are not allowed on the school premises. Is that understood?”

  Who in their right mind would bring drugs and weapons to school? I glanced at the blue trashcan and gulped.

  Apparently a lot of people.

  "No drugs or weapons,” I reassured weakly.

  “We’ll now ask you to put your jacket and bag in the bin, and to remove any item on you that contains metal before walking through the metal detector.”

  I did as I was told and walked through the machine. It beeped furiously, and the row of guards snapped their heads towards me, their hands immediately reaching for their tasers.

  “I told you to remove any weapons,” the guard snapped.

  “I’m not carrying anything!” I protested.

  "Against the wall,” he ordered. Two guards seized me by each arm and pressed me against the wall, parting my legs with their feet. One of them patted me down, slapping my body as I were made of clay. They didn’t find anything.

  "No accessories? Piercings, rings, necklaces?" he asked impatiently.

  I stiffened when the realization hit me.

  "I have a necklace."

  "Take it off and go through the metal detector again."

  "I can't take it off."

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  My eyes darted towards the line of guards who glared at me, their hands still near their tasers, ready to use force if necessary. Unless I wanted to end up like a fried sardine, I had to follow orders. I gritted my teeth but removed the necklace, putting it in the bin. I walked through the metal detector again. This time, it didn’t beep.

  As soon as the bin came out the other way, I quickly grabbed the necklace and put it back around my neck. I felt like I could breathe again. The guard regarded me with disdain.

 

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