“Why?” he asked.
“Just wondering.”
“Just reminding yourself you have a boyfriend?” He paused, then laughed. “Or were you reminding me? You’re the one who came over here.”
My cheeks flooded with heat. “No. I wasn’t . . . no. I just wondered what you thought of him.”
“Of Jeff? Why do you care what I think of him?”
“I don’t know. I don’t. Never mind.”
It was quiet for several minutes and I thought maybe he was on his way to sleep when he said, “Jeff seems nice. He was in my English class last year. He was never a tool to me.”
That thought made me smile. “He is nice.” I closed my eyes. After a few moments of silence, Dax’s breathing became a steady rhythm, lifting my head slightly with every intake. I could feel myself drifting when he adjusted his left arm and his wrist came into view. 7 14 14. “What does your tattoo stand for?” I whispered. If he was already asleep, if he didn’t hear me, I’d let it go. And I thought he hadn’t heard me.
Then he said, “Independence day.”
I was surprised he answered at all. I wondered if he was half asleep, his guard not fully engaged. “I think you’re a few days off on that.”
“My independence day. The day I let go of caring, of worrying, of everything. The day I first tasted freedom.”
He made it sound like a good day, but what he described made me sad. It sounded like it was the day he realized he was alone in the world. How could that be a good day? I knew he didn’t want my pity, though, so I didn’t offer it. “Did something happen on that day to make you realize that?”
“Yes,” was all he said.
“Freedom, huh? So when you’re eighteen and graduated you want to leave here?”
“Yes.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere. Knowing I can leave when I want, that nothing is holding me here, is the only thing that keeps me sane. It’s why a group home would kill me.”
Silence hung around us. His shivering had finally stopped. I thought about moving away now that he was warmer, but I couldn’t. “I won’t tell anyone you were here.”
“Thank you,” he whispered.
I smiled. He did know those words.
CHAPTER 16
The weight of Dax’s arm draped across my waist held me in place the next morning. I didn’t want to move and wake him up. I was on my right side, facing away from him. He was behind me, his breath warm on the back of my neck. I tried to control the goose bumps that were forming up and down my arms.
It was the first morning I’d woken up before him. It was our last full day here. In about twenty-four hours, someone would unlock those doors and we’d be free.
Dax stirred next to me and I closed my eyes again so it didn’t seem like I’d been lying there awake this whole time, enjoying his arm around me. At first, his hold around my waist tightened and he took a deep breath, then, as if he realized what he was doing, he cursed quietly and backed away. The cold air bit into my skin, a wake-up call to more than just one of my senses. I could not in any way become attached to the guy who’d just told me the night before he didn’t form attachments. He had a tattoo on his arm branding him a loner. What made me think I would be any different to him than anyone else? I wasn’t. We were just trying to make the best of a weird situation we’d been thrown into together. This was all temporary. When we were out, everything would be back to normal.
I stretched and sat up. My stomach let out a long growl. I put my hand over it and laughed.
He smiled, something he’d been doing more readily than he had before, dug out the last protein bar from his bag, and threw it to me.
“What’s the first thing you’re going to eat when we leave tomorrow?” I asked.
“Donuts.”
“Plural?”
“At least five.”
“I’ve been missing salt, not sweets. So maybe a burger and fries.”
“That sounds good too.”
“Everything sounds good,” I said, taking half the protein bar and handing back the rest. “Well, except this.”
He ate the remaining half in one bite. “It’s definitely not donuts,” he said through his mouthful.
“Ooh, a burger, fries, and a shake. That would satisfy both cravings.”
He nodded.
“There’s that burger place two blocks from here. We should walk straight there when the librarians unlock the door.”
He wadded the paper from the bar into a ball and rolled it between his palms.
“We can pack up all our things—well, your things—wait behind that pillar down by the parking garage and as soon as they pass by, sneak out.”
He tilted his head at me.
“What?”
“You’re going to sneak out of here when people show up?”
“What else am I going to do? Sit here and wait for them to find me? Then I’d have to explain everything. They’d call my parents. I’d have to wait for them to show up and explain everything again. That would take forever. I’m starving.”