The Dream Where the Losers Go by Beth Goobie Read Free Book Online Page B

Skey sat, staring at the empty doorway. Then she got up, knees wobbling, and walked through the unit’s open area to the washroom. As she pushed open the door, every girl’s eyes fixed on her, but staff continued their priority business of playing Double Solitaire and watching TV. First time she really needed them, Skey thought desperately, and they were as useless as she had figured they would be. Why wasn’t Terry working tonight?
    Viv was standing alone by the window. Slowly Skey walked toward her, then stopped, leaving several feet between them.
    “I’ve got an assignment for you,” said Viv. Built for demolition, she was big-boned, at least thirty pounds heavier thanSkey. The names of boys were tattooed all over her hands and arms—homemade tattoos, the kind you did to yourself after a few beers. No one sober would ever call her pretty.
    “You think you’re so good,” Viv continued quietly. “You think people worship the ground you walk on because you’re pretty. Well, your face don’t mean nothing to me, got it? You do what I tell you, or I’ll cut it. I’ll cut your face like you cut your arms.”
    Skey flicked her a glance of snow-white fear.
    “Yeah,” sneered Viv. “I heard about your arms. You did a number one job on them, didn’t you? Now you can’t be a model. Boo hoo. Let’s see them. Push up your sleeves.”
    Skey’s arms pulled in, hugging her stomach. “No,” she whispered.
    “No?” hissed Viv. Obviously practiced at washroom intimidation, she darted into the closest cubicle and flushed the toilet, then came barreling toward Skey, shoving her so hard that her head banged against the wall. Before Skey could react, Viv had yanked up one of her sleeves and started pinching the scar tissue.
    “Stop,” Skey whimpered, but Viv slammed her into the wall again, and the flushing toilet covered the noise. Light-dark flashed through Skey’s head, followed by a vast wave of pain. Viv yanked up the other sleeve.
    “Five on this arm, nine on the other,” she said. “You really got going, didn’t you? ’Cept if you want to die, stupid, you cut down your arm, not across it.”
    Viv let go of her arms, and Skey pulled them in. The noise of the toilet drained away.
    “Please, just leave me alone,” Skey whispered.
    At the other end of the room, the door opened and a staff stuck her head in. “How about you ladies continueyour chat out here?” she said, her voice pleasant, her eyes predatory.
    “Sure, Janey!” said Viv, a loud grin on her face. “Hey, you want to play me a game of pool?”
    “Think you can beat me?” Janey was Metis, her dark eyes intense.
    “I think I can wipe your butt,” Viv proclaimed.
    Janey held the door open for the two girls, then headed to the office to get pool cues and chalk. That left a moment outside the washroom doors when no one was close.
    Taking a step closer to Skey, Viv said, “You bring me something every day.”
    Fetch and carry—Skey had guessed it would be this. She was the only girl in this unit who attended school on the outside. “What d’you want?” she asked.
    “Some weed, every day,” said Viv. “Or your face is gonna change radically.”
    “Skey, you joining us for a game?” Janey was suddenly a few feet away, her voice loud, her eyes intent.
    “No thanks,” Skey mumbled and escaped to the solitude of her room.
    S HE LAY ON her bed in the dark, holding her wrist. It ached in a dull way, like the rest of her life. No one had noticed the blue-green bruises yet—a grab circle and several finger-prints.
    Her chest was sore, but unbruised. The back of her head throbbed against the pillow, but her hair covered that evidence. Jigger had left more marks than Viv.
    Outside the window, the sky was a deep blue-black full of stars. One star, thought Skey, for every time she and Jigger had made love. No, that was wishful thinking. One star forevery time she had thought of him touching her. Just the memory of his touch brought sheer white