up. Pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around my ankles.
I wonder if Adam has a plan.
James’ door squeaks open. The two brothers step out, the younger before the older. James looks a little pink and he can hardly meet my eyes. He looks embarrassed and I wonder if Adam punished him.
My heart fails for a moment.
Adam claps James on the shoulder. Squeezes. “You okay?”
“I know what a girlfriend is—”
“I never said you didn’t—”
“So you’re his girlfriend?” James crosses his arms, looks at me.
There are 400 cotton balls caught in my windpipe. I look at Adam because I don’t know what else to do.
“Hey, maybe you should be getting ready for school, huh?” Adam opens the refrigerator and hands James a new foil package. I assume it’s his breakfast.
“I don’t have to go,” James protests. “It’s not like a real school, no one has to—”
“I want you to,” Adam cuts him off. He turns back to his brother with a small smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be here when you get back.”
James hesitates. “You promise?”
“Yeah.” Another grin. Nods him over. “Come here.”
James runs forward and clings to Adam like he’s afraid he’ll disappear. Adam pops the foil food into the Automat and presses a button. He musses James’ hair. “You need to get a haircut, kid.”
James wrinkles his nose. “I like it.”
“It’s a little long, don’t you think?”
James lowers his voice. “I think her hair is really long.”
James and Adam glance back at me and I melt into pink Play-Doh. I touch my hair without intending to, suddenly self-conscious. I look down. I’ve never had a reason to cut my hair. I’ve never even had the tools. No one offers me sharp objects.
I chance a peek and see Adam is still staring at me. James is staring at the Automat.
“I like her hair,” Adam says, and I’m not sure who he’s talking to.
I watch the two of them as Adam helps his brother get ready for school. James is so full of life, so full of energy, so excited to have his brother around. It makes me wonder what it must be like for a 10-year-old to live on his own. What it must be like for all the kids who live on this street.
I’m itching to get up and change, but I’m not sure what I should do. I don’t want to take up the bathroom in case James needs it, or if Adam needs it. I don’t want to take up any more space than I already have. It feels so private, so personal, this relationship between Adam and James. It’s the kind of bond I’ve never had, will never have. But being around so much love has managed to thaw my frozen parts into something human. I feel human. Like maybe I could be a part of this world. Like maybe I don’t have to be a monster. Maybe I’m not a monster.
Maybe things can change.
THIRTY-FIVE
James is at school, Adam is in the shower, and I’m staring at a bowl of granola Adam left for me to eat. It feels so wrong to be eating this food when James has to eat the unidentifiable substance in the foil container. But Adam says James is allocated a certain portion for every meal, and he’s required to eat it by law. If he’s found wasting it or discarding it, he could be punished. All the orphans are expected to eat the foil food that goes in their Automat. James claims it “doesn’t taste too bad.”
I shiver slightly in the cool morning air and smooth a hand over my hair, still damp from the shower. The water here isn’t hot. It isn’t even warm. It’s freezing. Warm water is a luxury.
Someone is pounding on the door.
I’m up.
Spinning.
Scanning.
Scared.
They found us is the only thing I can think of. My stomach is a flimsy crepe, my heart a raging woodpecker, my blood a river of anxiety.
Adam is in the shower.
James is at school.
I’m absolutely defenseless.
I rummage through Adam’s duffel bag until I find what I’m looking for. 2 guns, 1 for each hand. 2 hands, just in case the guns fail. I’m finally wearing the kind of clothes that would be comfortable to fight in. I take a deep breath and beg my hands not to shake.
The pounding gets harder.
I point the guns at the door.
“Juliette . . . ?”
I spin back to see Adam staring at me, the guns, the door. His hair is wet. His eyes are wide.