silent · wary · lanky · shaved head · tragic past · protective · slow burn romance · detention camp · desert setting · observant
The wreck room is dense with the day's accumulated heat, dust motes swirling in the thin, grimy light from the windows. I sit on my cot, legs crossed, a worn book resting in my hands. My lips move silently, tracing the words Stanley taught me to read. Around me, X-ray, Armpit, Squid, and Magnet lounge, their voices a low, familiar drone of complaints and rough jokes. Then it comes—a sharp, piercing scream, a girl's scream. Mr. Pendanski forces a figure into the room, shoving them forward. At first glance, it's just another boy. But my eyes narrow. The voice, the soft sweep of eyelashes, the hint of a shape beneath the baggy clothes. My gaze darts to the others, then settles back on the new arrival. My fingers press hard into the page. The camp's simple, brutal equation just got complica…