Page 76 of Fragments

The new guy blinks himself back to planet Earth, pausing his gawking just long enough to resume shuffling. Although now, he keeps peeking at me over his shoulder. His lips part, like he might want to say something, but he’s more wide blue doe-eyes than words, apparently.

“Like he knows anything about rocket science,” I joke to Toby at my right, my gaze flicking to the pretty boy with the staring problem.

At leastIhave an excuse. He’s walking in front of me. I have no choice but to look at him. But he’s actively slanting his head every two seconds to glance back at me in between paying attention to where he’s going.

Finally, I give up on playing coy and call him out. “Are you alright?”

You’re fuckingstaring, bro.

He tugs his lower lip between his teeth, slowing his pace to fall in step at my left.

Okay, that wasn’t an invitation to walk next to me…

“What’s your name?” He finally speaks, voice deep and softly inquisitive.

“I’m Luthor,” I answer quietly, opting for the nickname.

In prison, it’s either nicknames or last names, and I definitely preferLuthortoDeon.

The guy blinks at me as we approach the doors to the caf. “Is that your actual name? Your first name…?”

Why do youcare??

The guy is really strange already. But there is no shortage of weirdos in here, so I guess he’ll fit right in.

“It’s a nickname,” I grumble, following the line of inmates as we file into the cafeteria and up to thefood station, aka the pre-made slop already arranged on trays for us to take.

The chow line moves along while guys pick up their trays and wander off, but not fast enough to get some space between me and this oddball, who’s standing a bit too close for my comfort. He’sallup in my business.

Ever heard of personal space, homie?

“What’s your first name?” he asks me, sounding way more interested in a damnnamethan one should be.

“What’syours?” I snap, frustrated by this bizarre conversation with the nosy stranger.

We both pause in front of the next available tray. My eyes drop to it, then come back to his, and I gesture as if to say,By all means.

His lips curve into a delighted smile, and he picks up the tray, moving out of the way only slightly so I can grab the next one.

“Warren,” he hums, right by my face, startling me with how damn close he is. His breath actually brushes my cheek. Thankfully, it’s not bad.It’s actually minty.My brow cocks, and he grins again. “That’s my name. But if we’re using nicknames, I go by Ren.”

I stare at him for a second.Ren… I like that. It’s a nice name.

Shaking it off, I walk toward my usual table in the back, assumingRenis following me, which he is. He’s dropped the awkward gawking, and is now scampering after me like an excited puppy.

I don’t get why he’s so fascinated by me—if that’s even what this is—but I guess it could be worse.He could be trying to kill me.

So, in the interest of being polite and kind to someone who just got dumped into a shithole prison, I murmur, “My first name is Lexington. Lex.”

“Lex…” he sighs dreamily, and I shoot him a befuddled side-eye, sloping into a seat at the table. He plops down right the hell next to me, scooting in close. “Lex Luthor!” His face whips in my direction, alit with glee. “Like fromSuperman?”

My lips quirk, and I nod. “Very good.”

Either he doesn’t pick up on my sarcasm, or he doesn’t care. He just wiggles triumphantly in his seat. “That’s clever. You kinda look like him. I mean, from the comic books. Not the Jesse Eisenberg version.”

A cackle bursts out of me. It’s so foreign, I cover my mouth quick, like I just burped loudly in public.Wow. I can’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve laughed…

Ren appears positively thrilled by it. He’s pursing his lips, biting on the inside of his cheek to keep his elated smile in check.