Deuces Wild by Christina C Jones

Author:Christina C Jones [Jones, Christina C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Warm Hues Creative
Published: 2018-05-15T04:00:00+00:00

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“Because it’s important for you to not stay cooped up in that house, that’s why,” I fussed, in response to Penelope’s lamentations about having her follow-up with Loren at her office, instead of at Jennifer’s house. In my opinion, it was doing her more harm than good to be completely isolated from the outside world.

Penelope… had a different view.

“People are horrible, and you know they are,” she argued from the passenger seat of my car, arms crossed as she glared out the window. “You’ve seen the same things I have. Probably worse.”

I returned my gaze to the traffic in front of me, and sighed. “You know… you’re right. I have seen worse, and people are awful. Mostly. But not all. The key is finding the ones who are good enough to make everybody else tolerable.”

“Or I can just stay in my room.”

“That’s not the answer.”

When we pulled to a stop, I looked over at her again. She was recovering well – so well that glancing at her, you’d never guess what she’d been through. Dressed in leggings and an oversized tee shirt, all that hair pulled into an oversized bun on top of her head, big sunglasses hiding her eyes… she looked like any other teenage girl.

Unfortunately, I knew different.

“Pen,” I started, as traffic began moving again. “I know that after what you’ve been through, it seems… safest, I guess… to isolate yourself. To try to eliminate the chance that you’ll be victimized again. But the truth is that… we need each other. Humans need other humans – we need the touch, we need the communication, all the interaction. It’s necessary to keep us connected to the stuff that makes us… not robots.”

“You mean… not Petals?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is… that’s what they called you?” I asked, my stomach churning a little at the obvious reference to female anatomy.

“Yeah. The most delicate parts of a rose,” she said, almost under her breath – words I could tell were spoken from ugly memory.

“We don’t have to talk about it if—”

“No, it’s fine. I mean… it’s not, but. At least you get it, you know? You were there too.”

“It was a little different for me, but… yeah. The Garden was a fucked up home for me too.”

Beside me, Penelope laughed a little, probably at my use of profanity. “Is it weird that it wasn’t… I don’t feel like it was all bad, you know? Not that I want to go back – not that anyone could ever make me – but I just… sometimes I wonder what happened to the people I knew… you know?”

“Of course. I used to wonder too, but then… you feel so helpless that you try to make yourself forget.”

“Does it work?”

“Does what work?”

“Trying to make yourself forget.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Yeah… eventually. But it’s hard, because like you said… everybody isn’t all bad. When it came to your peers, you probably made friends, and it’s hard to forget friends. The “instructors” though…” I closed my eyes for a moment, shaking my head before I returned my attention to the road.

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