Compromised by Heidi Ayarbe Read Free Book Online Page B

doesn’t know them. Rose clears her throat. “Maya has something to say.”
    I nod and look each one in the eyes. “I will not be generic.” Then I turn on my heels and go to my room.
    The next morning, getting ready for school, I open my drawer and find my favorite jeans and sweater. There’s a note with scrawly kid handwriting on it. “You aren’t generic.”
    I pull the sweater over my head and slip on my jeans. I sigh, relieved. Shelly, Jess, and Nicole are gone, so I hug myself and feel strong.
    I am not weak.
    And the Triad has disbanded. At least for now. Everybody just ignores them. And over the course of the next couple of weeks, I get most of my clothes back. Except for the scarf Jess wears. I say to her one day, “Why don’t you just keep it?”
    She blushes and mumbles something about me being a rich snot.
    But I’m not too at ease. I kind of think the Triad’s planning a nasty and painful revenge. Nature is nature. Just ask Roy Horn or Grizzly Man.
    Tonight Nicole and I have kitchen duty together. I’ve had kitchen duty ever since I burned the lips off the Triad.
    Nicole hardly looks strong enough to scrub the dinner trays—her arms spindly with blue veins running through tissue-paper skin. She looks up at me and strips off the yellow kitchen gloves. “Brutal stuff.”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œBhut jolokia.”
    â€œYeah.” I’m impressed she remembers the name. “Likethat Mafia guy you talked about—the acid guy who threw finger bones in soup,” I say, and wince at the reference, but that’s how I’ve felt. I finish wiping off the tables and go into the kitchen.
    â€œCarneglia?”
    I shrug. “Yeah. I guess. They all have the same-sounding last names to me. With all your Mafia stories, it’s hard to keep them straight.”
    Nicole scrubs the dishes harder, a line forming between her brows. She looks up. “Easier than listening to your science spew.” She pauses, looking through the steam from the hot water rinsing the dishes. “Why do you go through my stuff?” she asks. “My pills?”
    I shrug.
    â€œDon’t. Okay?”
    I nod. “I, um, tried to disguise my handwriting. On the note.”
    Nicole scowls. “You’re so absolutely random.”
    I guess that does it for my stellar don’t-kill-yourself note. It’s good to know that it’s not as great as I thought it was. Maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference with Mom after all. Not like that matters to me anyway.
    Nicole dries her hands on a dingy towel.
    â€œNicole?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI mean it. What I wrote. Really.”
    â€œWhy do you give a shit? I didn’t care when they threw you in a Dumpster and took your stuff. I didn’t care when you walked around feeling sorry for yourself all those weeks. I don’t care now.”
    â€œYeah. But you didn’t wear my stuff.”
    She shrugs. “You have no style. Don’t think it was anything more.”
    â€œAnd why did everybody give me back my favorite jeans, sweater? The rest of my clothes?”
    Nicole smirks. “Carneglia. They don’t want to be an ingredient in finger soup. You’re scary!” She makes a phantom noise and laughs.
    But I know it’s more than that. It’s like Nicole has some power in this place. The Triad never touched her. Even though the only ones who talk to her are the little kids, others do what she wants them to.
    One day Shelly told me it was because of the crazy look. “Her eyes,” she said. “They have that crazy thing to them. Like she could snap at any time.”
    I never see that, though. I just see sadness.
    Nicole cocks her head to the side and stares at me for a long time. “I’m going for a smoke.” She walks out. Before leaving, she turns back. “The clothes are yours. You earned them. Not a lot of kids here have a