"Okay."
Carey patted her shoulder, then stepped back. "Now hit the sack. Five thirty will get here soon enough." She turned and started to her room.
"Carey?"
Carey stopped and faced her, surprised by the nervous tone in Grace's voice. "Yes?"
"Would it be all right to ask for a hug?"
Carey held her arms out. "Come here." Wrapping her arms around the smaller form, she pressed her cheek against the golden hair. "You're going to be all right, Grace. I know it."
"Hey," Jan said, bumping against her. "You doing better today?"
"I guess so," Grace said.
"Grace, we're friends, right?"
She nodded. "Right."
"So if you need to talk about something," Jan said. "I'm here. I know there's some things that you just don't want the Goon Squad to know about."
"Thanks," Grace said. "But I'll be okay."
Jan tugged on her elbow. "Come here." They walked to the side of the mess hall.
"Jan, we need to get in there."
"They won't notice we're missing for at least five or ten minutes," Jan said. "Christine told Latisha that you ran out of AM yesterday and at dinner you went through the line and left without coming anywhere near the table."
Grace shrugged. "Wasn't hungry."
"Yeah, I bet," Jan said, leaning against the building. "Sucks, doesn't it?"
"Sure does."
"Scary spouts a lot in SR about abstinence but she doesn't understand it's not like we really had a choice." Jan looked off at the trees. "Right?"
Grace squatted down and picked up a stone. "She understands," she said, sending the stone skittering across the pavement. "How'd you know?"
"I guess when you've been through it, it's easy to pick out others," Jan said.
"I never thought that about you," Grace said. "Christine yes, but not you."
"It's easy with her," Jan said. "No one hates their father that much otherwise."
"Think others know? About me, I mean."
Jan shook her head. "No. You keep it pretty cool." She sank down until she was sitting on the ground, using the side of the building as a backrest. "Even if they did, who cares? Does it really matter to either of us about Christine?"
"No," Grace said. "She's okay."
"See? And after we're outta here, it's not like we'll ever see those people again. Why worry about it?" Jan picked up a stone and threw it. "I don't care if people know about my step-father. Wasn't my fault."
Grace pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "Did you ever feel like it was?"
"You know how many counselors have asked me that?" Jan said. "I knew it was his fault, no question." She threw another stone. "I was thirteen. Sure as hell wasn't my idea."
"Hmm," Grace said. "I guess at thirteen it's pretty easy to see. Harder at fifteen."
"Is it?" Jan asked quietly, both teens looking at the trees and not each other.
"Yeah." More pebbles flew as Grace found the need to do something with her hands. “Hey, we'd better get in there."
"I suppose," Jan said, making no effort to move. "I remember when I was fifteen." She let the remaining stones in her hand drop to the ground. "Thought I had control over everything and everyone around me." She shook her head and gave a rueful smile. "Just goes to show how much I didn't know back then."
Grace rose to her feet. "Yeah, well...we'd better head in."
"Hey." Jan stood up and bumped her. "I don't think it was your fault."
"Um...thanks."
"I mean it," Jan said, holding Grace's arm to keep her from walking away. "Remember what you said yesterday? About what you would do if you had to go back to live with your mother?"
"I remember," Grace said. "I'm never going back there."
"But even if something happens and you find yourself there, promise me you won't do it. We'll stay friends once we're out of here. If things ever get too rough for you, you can always come stay with me."
Grace looked at her. "I won't," she said. "I know I said that but I was just upset and everything. Besides, I'm getting out of here, out of Crestwood, then I'm going to go to college and get a degree. I'll never have to worry about living with my mother again."
"Grace? About that." Jan let go of her friend's arm. "I have to tell you something. I was worried about you yesterday and well, I told Scary what you said."
"You what?"
"I was worried," Jan said. "I didn't want you to do anything, you know, stupid."
"Carey didn't say anything to me about it," Grace said. "When did you tell her?"
"First period. Are you mad at me?"
Grace thought about it. "No. You weren't trying to get me in trouble."
"I wasn't," Jan agreed. "I was just worried, that's all."
"I guess if you came to me and said you were thinking about suicide, I'd probably tell someone too."
"Friends?"
"Friends," Grace said.
"Okay, enough of this serious shit," Jan said, giving a nudge with her elbow. "Let's go eat."
Feeling better than she had before, Grace nodded and looked up at the sky. Looks like it's going to be a nice day. "I hope we're having pancakes." They headed for the mess hall, unaware of the dark-haired woman standing around the side of the building who had heard nearly every word of their conversation.
FIVE MONTHS
Grace was surprised to see a very muddy Carey open the door. "Get newspapers and make a path to the kitchen for me, please," the instructor said.
"What happened?" Grace asked, taking the neatly folded paper from the coffee table and protecting the section of carpet between the door and the kitchen. "You look like you fell into the swamp."
"I smell like it too," Carey said, following the newspaper trail into the kitchen. "The swing rope broke." The once white, but now slimy brown, shirt was peeled off and tossed to the floor next to the washing machine. "Oh, that stinks."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Grace asked.
"No," Carey answered, pushing her shorts down, then sitting on the floor to unlace her boots. "Actually yes, get me a large bath towel, please."
"Sure." Grace went to the bathroom and returned with the towel. "Here you go."
Carey stood up, her sport bra and panties stained from the swamp. ·'Turn around." Grace did so, allowing the instructor to finish stripping off the rest of her clothes and cover herself with the towel. "All right, I'm going to take a shower," Carey said, moving past Grace. "I'll take care of the mess when I get done."
"Okay," Grace said, watching the towel-clad woman retreat to the bathroom. Once she heard the water running, the teen gathered up the muddy clothes and put them in the washing machine. Unsure what to do with the boots, she used paper towels to wipe off the muck and clean them up as best she could, then set them on the front steps to dry out. "What a mess," she said aloud when she got a good look at the kitchen floor. Reaching under the sink, she found the bucket.
"There, that's better," Carey said when she entered the living room. I washed my hair three times and I swear I still smell that swamp." She stopped at the entrance to the kitchen. "Where's my clothes?"
"I put them in the washer," Grace said. "I didn't know how to clean your boots so I put them on the steps to dry."
"You didn't have to do that," Carey said, then gave the teen a smile. 'Thank you."
"You're welcome," Grace said. "It didn't make sense for you to get all cleaned up and then touch those filthy clothes."
"I appreciate it," Carey said, opening the washer and adding detergent. "I see you did the floor too."
Grace shrugged. "Only took a few minutes. I didn't want you to have to do it."
"Thanks."