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She has to be lying. Addicts will tell any lie they can fabricate if it means getting what they need. They’ll steal anything they can get their hands on and make promises even a child could see through. I spent years with people like that, and I don’t get that same feeling about her.
Delilah’s anger comes through in every word she uses when she talks about her past.
“Do you know more movies like this?” she asks, wearing a smile when she turns to me. Like she’s forgotten who she is, who I am, what this is.
“Of course,” I mutter, diving into my work. “There’s plenty of them. I’m sure you could find some online.”
“Right. I’ll use all the free time I have on the internet.”
I grit my teeth against a sarcastic response since I get the feeling that’s what she wants. Obviously, I know she has a point. But it isn’t as if she’ll be here forever.
“When you get the chance. That is what I meant.” She swings her head back toward the TV, and I’m glad. The less we talk about her future, the better since I don’t know what her future will look like.
Eventually, she’ll have to move into the dorms. It’s only a matter of when. I hate how uncomfortable it makes me feel, the thought of letting her go off on her own.
Though it’s not as if she’ll be alone, technically. Someone will always be watching—maybe I can install cameras in her room as an added precaution. And if I’m able to listen in on her conversations, I could learn more about her ties to her family. That brother of hers who’s better off dead. She makes it sound like they didn’t have any kind of relationship growing up, yet she was still tied to him somehow. I have to know how she fits into the puzzle.
The movie ends around dinnertime, so rather than start another, we wait for our meal to be delivered from the cafeteria.
“You don’t like to cook, do you?” she asks curiously while we wait.
I don’t look up from what I’m typing. “What was your first clue? Nobody wants to eat anything I’ve prepared, believe me. Nothing short of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
“There’s an art to making a good PB&J. You have to get the balance just right.”
“Good point.” This might be a way to open a conversation about her family. “What about you? Do you like to cook?”
“Cooking was a way to make sure I had something to eat. It wasn’t something I did for, like, fun.” I’ve noticed she tends to pull her sleeves over her fists when feeling nervous or threatened. She’s doing it now, wrapping her arms around herself.
“You didn’t get any help at all from your family? Not even grocery money?”
“Why are you so obsessed with my family?” She’s curled into a tight ball, wedged into the corner of the sofa.
This is obviously a sore subject for her. I suspected it all along, but until now, she’s always been flippant about them. She’s deliberately avoided going any deeper than the superficial facts. Now, when I push a little harder, she’s on the verge of snapping.
That confirms that I’m getting closer to the answers I seek. “Let me help you understand a little something about Corium. We can’t afford to have anyone here whose past is a mystery. Typically, I know the history of every family who sends one of their kids here. It’s a matter of security, both for the school and for the students themselves.”
“And…?”
“You’re no exception. Do you need me to spell it out for you?”
“I never asked to be brought here. I don’t want to be a student here. I want to go home.”
I snap before I can stop myself. “Really? You miss that double-wide you keep complaining about?”
She winces but doesn’t back down. “It’s still better than being here.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Yeah, well, you can believe whatever you want to.” She stares at the darkened TV, her jaw twitching while her nostrils flare.
“Did it ever occur to you that it might be dangerous for you to go home?”
Her head snaps back toward me, her eyes blazing, and something inside me lights up. I don’t know what it is. Perhaps the challenge? In no way is my role here at this school boring or easy, and I know too well how different my life could have turned out if I didn’t straighten my shit up, but I’ve missed this kind of thing. Crashing against someone whose will is almost as strong as mine and breaking them. Is that what I’ve been trying to do all along?
A knock on the door interrupts us, and I get up to answer, not sure if I’m glad for the interruption or not. Delilah looked like she might have been about to unload on me, and who’s to say she wouldn’t have told me something valuable?
