The bed shifted, and Sebastian stood up. He crossed his forearms on Rory’s bed, and leaned closer. The glow of the floodlight shone on his face, and his blue eyes sparkled. His silver hair caught the light, too, and highlighted the etchings of age on his face. Rory hated to admit he thought he was handsome, but he couldn’t deny it in that moment. The floodlight shone a spotlight on Sebastian, and Rory liked what he saw.

“You think so?”

Rory glanced at Sebastian’s lips. He couldn’t stop looking at them, and they lifted into a smile under his gaze

“Yeah…”

“Good to know.” Sebastian smirked. “But if the guards suddenly get wise, I’ll know who to blame.”

“I won’t say anything, I swear.”

Sebastian climbed underneath the bed, out of Rory’s view.

“Night, Rory.”

Rory wiped his hand down his face, and inwardly cursed. “Night, Sebastian.”

Chapter Eight

During the first week, the hardest part about being inside had been the fear. The fear that he’d get found out, the fear that Pauly would corner him. The fear someone would hurt him. It had come true, but he didn’t feel fear anymore. Pauly still shot him interested looks, Sebastian still scared him sometimes, but the fear had gone. Instead it was the boredom that drove Rory mad.

Most of the inmates busied themselves in the gym, or boxed, or played soccer. Rory tried to train with Captain, but after ten minutes he was out of breath, and pain throbbed in his side. Captain patted his shoulder, then went to help Zeke lift weights.

Rory ended up limping back to the wing and collapsing on the same uncomfortable chair he had sat in day after day. He read books, he ate, he talked to Captain and Ollie, and he watched the one-hour allowance of TV, all in the same spine-aching plastic chair.

Then Sebastian would come over with the chessboard, and for a few hours they would play. They smiled in amusement, and triumph. They frowned and huffed in frustration. They mocked each other and jeered. Rory hated to admit it, but he found it fun, and he looked forward to their matches.

****

Ollie slipped into the chair opposite Rory. Captain’s chair.

“And you’re sitting there because?”

“I can see the gate.”

Rory glanced back. “There’s nothing going on at the gate.”

“Teddy comes back on the wing today.”

“Has it only been two weeks?” Rory groaned.

“What?”

“Feels like months have dragged by.”

“You gotta get used to it, you’re here for eight years.”

“Kill me now.” Rory muttered.

“I forgot to tell you, I signed us up for art class.”

“What?”

“Art class.”

“Why the hell did you do that?”

Ollie gestured to Rory slumped in his chair. “Always moaning you’re bored, I took the initiative. So we’re doing art class.”

Pauly paused at their table. “Art class, sweetheart?”

“So what?”