Page 5 of Worth of Waste

“Sleep last night?” Todd asked.

Dino almost smiled, but the amusement quickly faded. “An hour or so.”

That was what he always told his cellmate, whether he did or did not get any sleep. Todd rarely asked about Dino’s odd sleeping habits, but he figured that was because the kid didn’t want Dino calling him out on the way he woke up every morning.

Tit for tat, he supposed.

Todd stood from the floor, tossing the sheet back to his two-inch thick mattress. “Visiting day today, right?”

Dino shrugged.

How should he know?

He didn’t get visitors unless it was his lawyer, and a visit from Mike was rare unless Dino had specifically called the guy in.

“We’ve been cellmates for thirty-two days,” Todd noted.

“Do you have a calendar that you’re keeping track of or something?” Dino asked.

“I remember numbers.”

Interesting.

Dino wasn’t sure what Todd’s penchant for tracking days had to do with him. “What about it, kid?”

“I noticed you don’t talk much.”

“I noticed you don’t look people in the face when you talk to them.”

Todd glanced up at Dino on the top bunk, then quickly looked away. “Point taken.”

Exactly.

Dino looked over his crossword again, trying to pass time before their block would be called out for breakfast. He couldn’t get beyond the hint. Todd wasn’t only good with numbers, he had learned.

“Cat—five letter word, starts with an ‘M’ and ends with a ‘Y.’”

Todd didn’t even glance back as he brushed his teeth at the small metal sink, “Uh, a moggy.”

What the fuck was a moggy?

How did this kid even end up in prison?

“You’re too smart for this place,” Dino muttered, more to himself than his cellmate.

All over again, Dino was reminded of his younger brother Theo, and how much he wanted to keep him from ending up in a situation like this. Dino had found himself in lockup because of his asshole uncle and Ben DeLuca’s meddling. He didn’t want Theo to end up the same way.

Or God, someone else close to Dino …

He shook his head, refusing to even let his thoughts go there.

He’d done okay since pleading guilty a month ago and having his sentence handed over on the drug and weapons charges. He’d stuck to the schedule the prison put him on because it helped to make the hours pass by easier. He didn’t cause shit, because he was hoping for reduced time, and kicking someone’s head in would only earn him more months behind bars, plus solitary confinement.

He certainly hadn’t thought of her.

Not at night when his cellmate slept.

Not during the one hour a day when he got to go outside and breathe real air.