Page 98 of Shadowman

I guess I’m anemo kidat heart, though I never fit into their cliques in high school. But I’ve loved the music ever since I turned fourteen and discovered Taking Back Sunday. Plus, ninety-nine percent of my wardrobe has always been black. I don’t think that means anything per se, but my parents hated it. They thought it made me seem depressed.

An accurate assessment, but whatever.

I used to think guys with black fingernails looked cool, but I wouldn’t havedaredto do it myself in front of my father. Now that I don’t have to worry about what he thinks, though, I’m going for it.

Maybe reinventing my look will make me feel better.Maybe it will help me understand who the hell I even am…

Too bad it’s not real fucking nail polish, and most of it comes off in the showers.

On the way back, I’m looking around eagerly. I’m not really sure what, or who, I’m searching for. And if I am, I’m not tryingto think about it. Completely unrelated, I haven’t seen the new guy at all today.

Not that I care. It’s just… interesting.

“So what were you and Slenderman talking about yesterday?” Ren asks in an accusatory tone, as if somehow reading my mind.

“Who?” I play dumb.

“You knowwho,” he counters. “I saw you chatting it up with that British beanpole like you two were the best of friends. What gives?”

“Okay, you sound insane,” I mutter. “We exchanged a few words, what’s the big damn deal??”

“If it’s not abig deal, then tell us what you talked about.” He continues pestering me, like the most annoying person on earth.

Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly before I answer, “Skittles.”

He blinks at the side of my face. “Skittles?”

“That’s right.”

“You talked to the new guy about… Skittles?”

“Yes, Ren,” I grunt.

“You’re such a bullshitter.” He huffs.

“Oh, wow…That’srich,” I hiss.

“You guys,please,” Luthor whines, rubbing his eyes.

“No, seriously. The fact that you can even expect me to tellyouanything is a goddamn joke,” I scoff directly at Ren, shaking my head. “Why don’t you botherDarceyabout his conversations? No? Just me?? Okay, cool. Well, I don’t know what about this friendship has made you feel like you own me, but I’m not your fucking pet,Warren.”

At the end of my tirade, I’m exhausted and wound up all the same. I can feel my blood boiling, the color red seeping into my every thought.

I really wanna hit something…

“Byron, what the fuck—”

“Simmer down, inmates,” Brenner cuts off whatever defense Ren was going to make, separating us with a shove on my back, through the doorway to the row.

He drags me over to my cell, opening it and grumbling, “We haven’t had aquiet nightin a while, 62. We gonna have one tonight, or what?”

I freeze and stare at him, eyes wide.

Quiet Night… Did he just say…?

Brenner lifts his brows, like he’s waiting for me to answer his seemingly rhetorical question. I’m stunned and still unsure of whether he’sactuallysuggesting what I think he is.

But regardless, I immediately start nodding. “Yea… Yea, totally. We can have a…Quiet Night. No problem.”