Kaci sniffled, and wiped one arm across her eyes. “No one did this to me. No one scratched me, no one bit me, and no one ever asked me if I wanted to be like this. Like you.” She’d stopped pacing now and stared at me in so much pain I could barely stand to look at her. “If you want to help me, tell me how to make it stop. All of it. I don’t want to hear people talking through the walls. I don’t want to be able to smell the guy in the hall through a closed door. I don’t want to know that you spent some serious time with that Marc guy earlier today. But I do know, because you smelled like him when you came in this afternoon. You still smell like him.”
Okaaaay, this is awkward. I couldn’t remember ever before being told by a child that I smelled like sex, which was basically what she’d just said.
“I’m sorry, Kaci.”
She slid down the wall to sit with her knees up and her head in her hands.
I squatted next to her and stroked her hair, because I wasn’t sure what else to do. I’d never been very good at comforting people. “I’m sorry this happened to you—more sorry than you can possibly imagine. But I can’t fix it. No one can. The best we can do is to show you how to be one of us. How to deal with what you’re hearing and seeing now.”
“What if I don’t want to deal with it?”
“You’re gonna have to eventually.” I sighed. I had no idea how to help a stray through her transition. But I might just know how to help a teenager relax…“But in the meantime…how about a video game? And maybe some junk food?”
Her head rose slowly, her brows arched halfway up her forehead in surprise. “Are you serious?”
“Why not? The guys have two different PlayStations set up downstairs. You ever play?”
She grinned. An honest-to-goodness, carefree-teenager grin. With teeth and all. “Yeah. Only every day of my life…until recently.”
I smiled back; I couldn’t help it. “I’m sure all their games are violent and bloody…”
Her smile faltered for a minute, then it was back in full force, her expression fortified with a healthy dose of resolve, like she was determination to have fun, even if it killed her. “The bloodier the better.”
I had to admire the kid’s grit.
“Good.” I eyed the loose skirt and fitted blouse, then glanced at the pile of more casual clothes on the nearest bed. “Pick out something appropriate for video-game carnage and junk food. We have a selection of chips and dip downstairs that puts a supermarket to shame.”