I feel bad for Janette. I at least had a real life, with real parents. She’s still little. It’s going to mess her up because she’s not even going to know what it’s like to have a whole family. She’s so mad all the time. I am too. Yesterday I made fun of this kid until he cried. It felt good. It felt bad too. But like Daddy said, as long as I’m meaner than they are, they can’t touch me. I’ll just beat them down until they leave me alone.

I saw Silas for a little bit after school. He took me for a burger and then drove me home. It was the first time he’d seen the shit pit we’re living in now. I could see the shock on his face. He dropped me off, and then an hour later I heard a mower outside. He went home and picked up a mower and some tools to fix the place up. I wanted to love him for it, but it just embarrassed me.

He pretends he doesn’t care about how much my life has changed, but I know he does. He has to. I’m not what I used to be.

My dad has been writing to me. He’s said some things, but I don’t know what to believe anymore. If he’s right…I don’t even want to think about it.

I look through the letters from her father. Which one is she talking about? Then I see it. My stomach churns.

Dear Charlize,

I spoke to your mother yesterday. She said you were still seeing Silas. I’m disappointed. I warned you about his family. His father is the reason I’m in prison, yet you continue to love him. Do you realize how much that hurts me?

I know you think you know him, but he’s no different from his father. They’re a family of snakes. Charlize, please understand that I’m not trying to hurt you. I want to keep you safe from those people, and here I am, locked up behind these bars, unable to take care of my own family. A warning is really all I can give you, and I hope that you heed my words.

We lost everything—our house, our reputation, our family. And they still have everything that was theirs as well as everything that was ours. It’s not right. Please, stay away from them. Look what they did to me. To all of us.

Please tell your sister that I love her.

Dad

I feel sympathy for Charlie after reading the letter. A girl torn between a boy who obviously loved her and a father who manipulated her.

I need to visit her father. I find a pen and write down the return address from the letters he’s sent to her. I pull out my phone and Google it. The prison is a good two-and-a-half-hour drive from New Orleans.

Two and a half hours one way is a lot of wasted time when I only have forty-eight hours total. And it feels like I’ve already wasted a lot of that. I make a note of visiting hours and decide if I haven’t found Charlie by tomorrow morning, I’ll be paying her father a visit. Based on the letters I just read, Charlie is closer to her father than anyone. Well, besides the old Silas. And if I don’t have a clue where she is, her father is probably one of the few who might. I wonder if he would even agree to meet with me.

I flinch in my seat when the final bell rings, signaling the end of school. I keep the letters separated and put them all neatly inside the backpack. It’s the last class period, and I’m hoping The Shrimp will be where I asked her to be.

Chapter 7: Charlie

I’m locked in a room with a boy. The room is tiny and it smells like bleach. Tinier even than the room I was in before I fell asleep. I don’t remember waking up and being moved, but here I am, and let’s be honest—I don’t remember a whole lot lately. He’s sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, and his knees spread apart. I watch as he tilts his head back and belts out the chorus to Oh Cecelia.

He’s pretty hot.

“Oh my god,” I say. “If we’re going to be locked in here, can you at least sing something good?”

I don’t know where that came from. I don’t even know this boy. He finishes, punctuating the last word with a really off-key eh-eh-eh-eh. It’s then that I realize that I not only recognize the song he’s singing but also know the lyrics. Things change, and suddenly I’m not the girl anymore. I’m watching the girl watch the boy.

I’m dreaming.

“I’m hungry,” she says.

He lifts his hips off the ground and digs around in his pocket. When he pulls out his hand, he’s holding a lifesaver.

“You’re such a lifesaver,” she says, taking it from him. She kicks his foot, and he grins at her.

“How come you’re not mad at me?” he asks.

“For what? Ruining our night by making us miss the concert so you could make out with me in a broom closet? Why the hell would I be mad?” She makes a show of slipping the mint between her lips. “Do you think they’ll hear us in here when the concert’s over?”

“I hope so. Or you’ll get really hangry and be mean to me all night.”

She laughs, and then they’re both smiling at each other like idiots. I can hear the music playing. It’s something slower this time. They got locked in here making out. Very cute. I feel envious.

She crawls over to him, and he lowers his legs to accommodate her. When she’s straddling him, he runs his hands up and down her back. She’s wearing a purple dress and black boots. A couple of grimy mops and a giant yellow bucket are propped next to them.

“I promise this won’t happen when we see One Direction,” he says seriously.

“You hate One Direction.”

“Yeah, but I guess I have to make this up to you. Be a good boyfriend and such.” His hands tease the exposed skin on her legs. He makes a walking motion up her thigh with his fingers. I can almost feel the goose bumps for her.

She throws back her head this time and starts to sing a One Direction song. It clashes with the music playing behind them, and she’s a worse singer than he is.

“Oh god,” he says, covering her mouth. “I love you, but no.” He pulls his hand away, and she grabs it back to kiss his palm.

“Yeah you do. I love you back.”

It’s when they kiss that I wake up. I feel intense disappointment. I lie very still, hoping to fall asleep again so I can see what happens to them. I need to know if they got out in time to see The Vamps play at least one song. Or if he kept his word and took her to One Direction. Their togetherness has made me feel so incredibly lonely that I bury my face in the pillow and cry. I liked their stuffy little room better than mine. I begin to hum out the tune of the song that was playing, and then I suddenly bolt upright in bed.