“What the hell?” I had just finished pushing my food around the tray, thinking I would rather starve when it launched off the table, skidding across the linoleum floor. Recognizing the woman next to me from the bus as the one who tossed it to the floor, obviously I wouldn’t be getting a reprieve. I didn’t eat a lot of meat, but I had highly inflated hopes that the soggy vegetables on my tray had some life left to them.

“I heard you killed a man.” Of course she did, but I didn’t need that advertised on day one. Staying under the radar had been the goal, but me and my stupid mouth. Looking up, I noticed right away how beautiful she was with dark hair, brown eyes, and curves. She had a good number of pounds on her in all the alluring places, and enough muscle under soft feminine flesh that I knew she’d kick my ass if I so much as moved from the table.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Leaning over she whispered in my ear taunting me. Sharee looked over but didn’t say anything to diffuse the situation. Neither did the oh-so-helpful guards who were yelling for a cleanup of the tray, their hands hovering over their tasers. In a way, I didn’t want anyone to interfere because my troubles were my own, and this crazy ass woman seemed to think I was ripe pickings. It was the first time I laughed since this ordeal had started, and it sounded maniacal as reality descended over me. She’d probably kill me in my sleep. After everything before this ordeal would that be a blessing?

“Crazy bitch,” The brunette said, kicking the tray and going over to sit at another table of curious faces.

“Man, you be pissing cunts off left and right with that attitude. Maybe I should call you Stone instead of Nene.”

“I thought everyone went by their last names.” The pregnant girl named Raina looked at me like I had lost my shit. Almost. It was inevitable that I was going to lose it at some point, but not today.

The addicts at the other end mumbled. “Yeah.”

“So what is it?” They asked between the two of them looking a little green and twitchy. I didn’t know how long it took to go through withdrawals, but their eyes remained squirrelly.

“What’s what?” I asked.

“Your last name?” They echoed. They weren’t twins but maybe the drugs had done something to them because they answered together, again.

On a deep sigh I said, “Cruz.”

“Nah, you’ll always be Nene now.” Sharee smiled and helped me clean up my tray as the girls at the other table continued to eye fuck us. Sharee told me to keep my head down for now since that woman got me lit up like Christmas for a bunch of Tribe recruits. I wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but it didn’t sound good. I was only on day one here and the whole situation felt more than just a clusterfuck. It felt like the beginning of the end with no hope in the middle, nothing but a dreary existence to suffer through.

Sharee ended up being my cellmate, and that ended up being both good and bad. She’d been incarcerated here before but said there was a warden turnover so that meant a whole new set of rules. She didn’t have the influence she had before and told me it would take her some time to get back on top of things. Again, I had no idea but was grateful for her friendship or what she could offer with no strings attached. The warden could fast-track your parole hearings or stall them dead in the water. Sharee was convinced the last one was giving special perks to inmates, and I was hoping to bide my time and avoid that. I didn’t suck cock as a habit, which is what got me in here in the first place thanks to my dipshit lawyer. I definitely wasn’t sucking one to get out either.

“Hey, Cruz.” I looked up at one of the guards, a male, maybe in his mid-thirties and stacked with muscles. Obviously he hadn’t heard I was going by Nene. He seemed to think he was the shit, and I read the nameplate under his badge as Garcia. As good looking as he was and fit, it begged the question of why he was working in a women’s prison, but I wasn’t about ask him about his job choices.

“What?” I calmed the heaving breaths from my chest and looked him straight in the eye.

“You missed a spot, newbie.” Smiling, he poured a carton of milk on the floor at my feet, and it splashed up against my plain slip-on sneakers.

“Fucking hell.” Groaning, I looked down at the wet spot bleeding through the canvas. Spoiled milk reeked, and these would be my only shoes unless I could get something through the commissary. Maybe I’d wear them into the shower once I got an opportunity to clean them off. I couldn’t stand the smell of rotting crap, and this was going to be a problem for me if I couldn’t fix it.

Everyone filed out, and we headed toward the common area. My feet squished with each step as my nausea rose. The day wasn’t going to go any quicker.

Sharee nudged my arm.

“I’ll see if I know anyone in the laundry. Might be able to get you some clean stuff.” A kind gesture, but now I owed her a favor, and I couldn’t have that hanging over my head. Too many favors might obligate me to the wrong people.

I placed my hand over her arm and stopped her, shaking my head no extending my appreciation. “Sharee, I’ll figure it out, but thanks. Thanks a lot.”

I made my way over to the table in the corner alone.

Alone was good for me. I could observe my surroundings and work on relearning my childhood Spanish between the growls of my hunger pangs.