Fragments alabaster peni.., p.11
Fragments (Alabaster Penitentiary Book 4), page 11
Joy arches a brow at him and mutters, “Oh, boy…” under her breath.
Stomping footsteps come from the distance, and moments later, Velle and Rook burst into the room, pausing to take in the scene. Velle storms over to Ren, dropping to his knees next to him. He grabs Ren by the arms, pinning him to the floor in an attempt to maybe rein in his episode. Ren squirms beneath him, laughter echoing as he gasps for air, coughing spatters of blood.
“Jesus…” Rook grunts. “What the hell happened to him?”
“This one happened.” Joy nods down at a trembling Dash.
“I didn’t… I… didn’t…” Dash stutters.
My nervous gaze bounces between Dash and Ren, but I’m weighted to the floor. I want to do something, anything, to help either of them, but I can’t move. If I do, Joy and Velle will stop me, throw me in the hole, or worse.
I hate this feeling… I hate being forced not to react.
I’m suffocating.
Velle barks over his shoulder at Rook to get Dash out of here, smacking Ren on the cheek. “Focus, 48. Snap the fuck out of it.”
Rook hauls Dash to his feet and tugs him, stumbling and barely walking upright, out of the room.
Joy stomps over to Kang and me, cuffing our wrists. “Come on, inmates. Back upstairs.” She grabs her and Kang’s things, already walking toward the door when she turns to snap at us over her shoulder, “Let’s go.”
Kang follows after her, but I’m hesitating, eyes still stuck on Ren. “Is he gonna be okay…?”
“What the fuck did I say, 35??” Her voice bellows at me, but I’m too busy watching Velle fasten cuffs around Ren’s wrists and hoist him up over his shoulder.
Ren’s not small by any means, but Velle’s just lugging him like a sack of wacky potatoes.
“Move your fucking ass, inmate,” Velle snarls at me, eerily calm as he carries Ren past me. He glares at Kang on his way out the door. “Don’t think I forgot that shit you pulled with the cell phone down here.”
“This has nothing to do with that,” Kang mutters, but Velle’s already gone.
Scuttling along, I’m trying to catch up to him and find out where he’s bringing Ren. Hopefully, he’s just going back to his cell. It’s not like there’s an infirmary or anything… But my main concern is that he’ll dump Ren in the East Wing.
I really hope not. I can’t deal with that again…
By the time we get through the end of the long corridor, Velle is already gone, and I can’t tell which direction he went. This place is like a maze, with some hallways leading to the same place, others going somewhere completely different. It’s a fucking mess. I’ve been here forever, and I still barely understand the layout.
There are distinguishing marks in certain places, and we try to memorize them so we can remember where we are. It helps to have a good sense of direction, though it’s essentially a labyrinth of leaking concrete.
Joy and Kang are whispering about something while we walk, but I can’t even be bothered to pay attention. I’m too busy obsessing over what just went down.
I hope Dash is okay…
And Ren. Jesus. He just lost it.
I mean, I’ve seen Ren behave in a lot of troubling ways. I’ve seen him get into fights on purpose… I’ve seen him hurt himself. It’s part of the reason why even just having him as a friend drives me mental. Being in his presence is like being on a rollercoaster that never stops.
I swear to God, I need to keep my distance for my own sanity. This friendship is gonna give me ulcers.
Joy gets us back to the row, and much to my dismay, Ren’s not in his cell. Once I’m stuffed back into mine, alone, I really start to panic. Dash is gone… back in solitary. Ren is off, God knows where.
And I’m here. In my same cell, by myself.
It’s like I’m doomed to always end up this way. No matter what happens in this place, I’ll always be right fucking here, alone.
I’m sick of it. The revolving door of cellmates who always disappear. Unreliable friends constantly being dragged out of my life. And I just have to sit here and watch it happen.
Exhausted and mentally drained, I crawl into Dash’s bed and curl up in a ball. It’s times like these when the thoughts start to creep in… the ones I never allow myself to have. The ones I keep on the other side of a force-field in my mind, because it’s just going to make things worse.
But right now, I just can’t help it.
I miss my parents. I miss my friends.
I miss school, and my computer, and the beach.
Sushi, and In-N-Out…
Fireworks over the ocean.
Rolling onto my stomach, I bury my face in the pillow. It smells like Dash.
I fall asleep to memories of all the things I’ll never see again, for the rest of my life.
I dreamt about designing a computer, and when I wake up, I have the strongest urge to make it happen.
Doing it in here is nothing shy of impossible. I know that. Even if I were to find spare parts somehow, they’d never let me keep them. And even if they did, the Warden would shut that shit down, and maybe even kill me.
After all, a computer in my hands is like a gun or a knife in someone else’s.
Still, I can’t stop thinking about it over the course of the day, which ends up dragging more than most others. I guess because of what happened yesterday, Velle decided to keep us in our cells longer than usual. I get no shower or meal until dinner time, and when I do, I’m brought in without my friends.
It reminds me of my early days, when I used to sit alone, looking over my shoulder every few seconds for fear someone would start shit or try to attack me. It didn’t happen much, but it would on occasion. Luckily for me, I always became friends with my cellmates, and they were pretty protective. It should come as no surprise that I’m not really a fighter. I learned to scrap a little because I had to, but I would always much rather use my words, which isn’t the preferred method of conflict resolution for guys in here.
Not too long after that, Ren showed up. And even though I never asked him to, he made it his personal business to look out for me.
It’s different now. When I come into the caf alone, a few of the guys call me over to sit with them. But I don’t. It feels like high school again… I’m the young one, opting to eat by myself, rather than deal with trying to socialize or fit in.
On my way back to the row for the night, I pass Ren’s cell and stop short when I see him in there. He’s lying on his bunk holding an iPad. The glow of whatever he’s watching illuminates his face, and the visible black and blue around his right eye.
I wander over to the bars, and he looks up, immediately lowering the device and hopping out of bed when he sees me.
“Hey,” Jasper grunts at my back. “No bullshit shit, 35. Back to your cell.”
“Jake,” Ren murmurs to him, tilting his head.
Jasper sighs out of annoyance. “Make it quick.” Then he saunters off, bringing the other inmates to their cells.
Stepping up to the bars, I clutch them in my fists as Ren walks up, his eyes set on mine. As soon as he’s close, I can see a nasty cut on his bottom lip to accompany the black eye.
Wanting nothing more than to keep this casual, the way it needs to be, I mutter, “iPad, huh? Nice…”
His split lip twitches. “Movie night sleepover?” I scoff and shake my head. “I’m glad to see you…”
“Are you alright?” I ask quietly, riddled with complex stuff I don’t want to be feeling.
Ren’s vibrant blue eyes shimmer at me. “Yea,” he says softly. “Never better.”
I cock a brow at him, and he grins. “You look like shit.”
“You’re looking at me,” he hums. “I call that a win.”
Rolling my eyes, I shove down the way my mouth wants to smile. “What happened to you yesterday? What the hell was that with Dash?”
“He was defending you.” His head slants. “It was cute. I think he likes you.”
“He’s my friend,” I tell him for the tenth time. “Are you saying you let him kick the shit out of you because he was defending me?”
“I deserved it,” he sighs and shrugs. “I’d do the same thing… if someone was fucking with you. I’ve done it before.”
“That makes no sense,” I grumble. “You were the one fucking with me. You could just act normal and not do that.”
“I don’t do normal…” he whispers. “You know that.”
“Yea, no shit.”
“And I wasn’t really fucking with you, Lex.” He eases in closer to the bars between us. “I think you know that, too.”
There’s honesty in his words… At least, I think there is. It’s so hard to tell.
“You’re a head case and a half,” I breathe, exhausted already from a two-second conversation with him. But for some reason, it just feels… necessary. I don’t know where this bullshit draw comes from, keeping me attached to his crazy. But it seems way too strong to sever. “That nutjob laughing like a madman on the floor… That was the real you, Ren. And it’s fucking terrifying.”
He rests his head on one of the bars, eyes falling to my mouth. “You don’t like it?”
My stomach twists, and I swallow hard. “Why would I…?”
“Dunno…” he breathes, lifting his fingers to trace mine. “I like stuff that hurts.”
“Yea, well… I don’t.” My voice comes out raspier than I want it to, making my words unconvincing.
“Are you lying to me, Lexington?” His gaze is heavy, smothering me while his finger grazes mine slowly.
And I barely even notice how close we are to each other, with only some steel bars keeping us apart. Ren’s hand covers mine where I’m holding the metal, and I want to pull away. I want to, I know I do…
But I can’t. My body won’t move.
“I’m not the liar, Ren,” I whisper, heat rushing up my neck at his proximity and the intensity in his eyes, bluer than the sky on a perfect California day.
He makes me nervous. He always has, and I’ve never been able to understand why.
“You lie all the time.” He smirks, tugging his lower lip with his teeth. Then he winces, clearly having forgot about the cut.
Before I can even stop myself, my fingers lift, sneaking between the bars to gently brush the cut on his mouth. As soon as it happens, his lashes flutter, and he hums out a pleading sound. It hits me hard in the junk.
He’s so needy for touch.
Mine?
No… Everyone’s. It’s not specific to me.
“It hurts…” I shiver out the words, meant to be a question, though it doesn’t come out that way.
His head does a little shake. “You were worried about me…”
Same thing. Not a question. A statement. A soft, eager one, but still. He’s not asking.
My hand lingers between the bars, my lips parted without the slightest clue of what to say. I can’t tell him I missed him today, because, I mean, as friends—I think—and he’ll just take it the wrong way. I can’t tell him I hope I get to see him tomorrow, because I’m not even sure if I do.
It’s a seesaw with us. We’re never just… even.
“35!” Jasper barks, and I flinch. “Let’s go.”
Before I can pull my hand back, Ren places a quick kiss on my fingers. “I want more of this, baby.”
“Ren…” I sigh, shaking my head. “No.”
“If getting my ass kicked means you’ll worry about me, then I’ll take a beating every fucking day.” His mouth curves into one of his wicked smirks, dimples on display.
I huff at his ridiculousness, moving back. “You’re a dumbass.”
“Mm… Don’t be mean.” He pouts. “I’m injured. You should be kissing it better.”
“Okay, now I’m really leaving,” I grunt, releasing the bars, though he holds onto my hand for an extra couple of seconds. “Goodnight, Warren.”
“Goodnight, Lex,” he croons. “And don’t worry… I’m sure you’ll get me out of your head eventually.”
Ugh… Annoying, gorgeous idiot.
Glaring at him, I step back as Jasper grabs me and shoves me up the row. And Ren watches me go… I can feel it.
5 years ago…
Usually, data and software programming can hold my attention better than most things.
It’s my favorite part of attending Berkeley, because it’s what I came here to do. To follow in the footsteps of the great tech geniuses of our time, and more importantly, to have fun doing it.
I’m still not exactly sure what my goal is for after I graduate, but honestly, Silicon Valley is a viable option.
Maybe a startup. Join a team developing apps. Worst-case scenario, I’ll start out running code somewhere and work my way up. But even that sounds like fun to me.
All the different ways to use my powers for good, and make an honest living doing it.
But my side-hustles… those are what earned me my nickname.
See, when you’re as good as I am at weaving the worldwide web, you begin to feel sort of limitless. For me, a firewall isn’t so much a wall, as it is a door to be opened. And rather effortlessly, I might add.
In high school, I developed a foolproof system for creating fake IDs. It made me pretty popular with my classmates, even if deep down I knew they were only using me. Still, the money was good, not that I necessarily needed it. We were never struggling or anything, but it was helpful in getting ahold of all the parts needed for my machine…
LOIS.
That’s her name. Her being the computer I designed in my garage… Lex’s Optimal Intelligence System, aka LOIS. Superman’s girlfriend.
I know, right? I just nerd leveled up, big time.
Needless to say, once I had LOIS on my side, there was no possible way I could stop.
Junior year, I accessed the national database to change a bunch of my friends’ SAT scores. After that, I hacked into the UCLA admission’s office to get my friend Jessie in.
That one I did as a sort of romantic gesture. I’d always kind of liked her, but I guess she didn’t see me that way. Even after hacking her into her dream school, all I got was the same ambiguous response I so often got from the opposite sex…
Things like, “You’re such a great friend, Lex.”
“I really love having you as a friend.”
“I would never want to do anything to ruin our friendship.”
Hearing it however many times, I began to realize these girls were actually being pretty blunt, but in a nice way, as females tend to.
Believe it or not, when a girl says the word friend to you over and over, she’s not speaking in some sort of riddle for you to decode. She literally means that she sees you only as a friend, and will never be attracted to you sexually.
It’s fine, though. I wasn’t Jessie’s type, and I’m okay with that.
Most of the girls I’m drawn to are like that… Out of my league. Not physically, but they always seem to be interested in the jocks and the frat bros. They tell me I’m so smart, like it’s a bad thing, and really, I think it comes down to confidence. I’ve just never been good at making the moves necessary to attract the girls I like. My idea of flirting is to have conversations, to share common interests and debate differences of opinion.
Basically, I should be looking for a hot bookworm or a cosplayer or something. Not Malibu Barbie.
Anyway, when I realized that none of the kids I knew in real life would ever get me the way people on the internet did, I just stayed in my lane. I made friends online, built up my social media relationships, and stopped caring about trying to fit into the mold of who I’d thought I needed to be. I’ve spent all my free time over the last few years perfecting LOIS, while simultaneously becoming a god of the internet.
Using my powers for evil, in true Lex Luthor fashion.
Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. I don’t hack into people’s banks or their Amazon accounts or anything like that. In fact, I feel stealing is beneath me. Give me a challenge, at least.
Origin story aside, the normally titillating Berkeley curriculum is taking a backseat in my mind at the moment. Because I can’t stop thinking about my friends. My real friends… The ones I’ve never actually met.
I haven’t spoken to Leah in two months. None of us have. After she hung up on me that night, she ghosted. All of my texts have gone unread, no social media posts, no gaming… She hasn’t been online at all. Complete radio silence.
She’s disappeared on us before, but never for this long. And I can’t get that last conversation out of my head… How scared she sounded. Those men’s voices.
I’m really worried about her. I just want to know that she’s okay.
To top it all off, last week a news story broke involving my friend Cyrus. Cyclops180.
It’s been big drama, all over the internet. Apparently, his twin brother wound up in the hospital… Both of his parents are now in jail. There were rumors swirling about their stepfather having some kind of sexual relationship with Cy’s brother, but most people are discrediting it as bullshit, made up by their mother to pull focus from her crimes.
It’s hard to know what’s true and what isn’t when all online reporting is like one long game of telephone.
Real or not, the story is wild. Cy’s stepdad is a legend in the tech world, especially on the West Coast. Cyrus never had anything but great things to say about him… So I’m sure there’s no way he’d hurt Cy, or his twin brother, Colson.
But then, the video…
A couple of weeks ago, Cyrus messaged me, begging for my help to hack into his mom’s iCloud and delete some video. Which I did, because he’s my friend. And naturally, because I’m a trustworthy motherfucker, I didn’t watch it. But now that all this crazy shit has come to light, I can’t help but wonder what was on it…
Shaking my head, I focus on the screen of my laptop, and the research I’m supposed to be doing for class. I’ve been staring at the same page for ten minutes, lost in my thoughts. Between Cyrus and Leah, I’m distracted as shit. I can’t concentrate on anything, especially since every time I check Twitter, all I see are tweets about the Solana Beach twins and their billionaire stepdad, Tauren Vance.
