Page 27 of Shadowface 1979

“I’ve never been so sure of anything.”

I gave a bashful smile. “Okay.”

He doesn’t say anything as I pull it out and take a bite. I’m sure he had breakfast, and he will have dinner. He isn’t thinking about when his next meal is like I am. I’m sure he’s aware by now that this is the only time of day I actually eat, and that he is my sole source of food.

I devour every crumb of his lunch and take a sip of the water he hands me when I’m done. Now it’s Tommy’s turn to watch me, and he’s doing so with extreme amusement.

“You don’t have to keep doing this,” I say, wiping sauce from my mouth.

“Doing what? Watching you with my lunch on your face?”

My cheeks heat, and I wipe off the rest of it. “You don’t have to keep having lunch with me.

He shrugs. “I don’t want to stop having lunch with you Didi. It’s my favorite part of the day.” I don’t want to stop having lunch with him either. Tommy is the only good part of my day.

I cross my legs to hide how uncomfortable I’ve gotten over the past week from the belt. The most recent skin sore hasn’t scabbed the way it usually does. It’s clear to him that my discomfort goes beyond hunger. He ought to see the pain in my eyes; he just doesn’t know how to handle it.

He moves closer to me. “I like it under here with you, Didi. The world seems less dark and lonely with you in it. I don’t want you to ever leave.”

I’ve gotten used to him over the past few days as I realize his presence here has more to do with him than it does with me.

“How are you lonely?” I ask him. “You seem to have lots of friends.”

He stares at me. “Just because you’re around people doesn’t mean you aren’t alone.”

I pause before I push the subject that’s been on my mind all week. “Can I ask you something, Tommy?”

“Shoot.”

“Who was that boy that died? What was he to you?” I’ve wondered over the past few days if Tommy knew him. Other than everyone so unsettled about it, it feels personal with Tommy and Remy.

He shrugs. “Just a guy I knew. He grew up in town.”

I bite my bottom lip. “Okay.” I pause for a moment. “What was he to Remy?”

He swallows a bob in his throat, that small emotional tug every time I bring Remy up. He moves his hand to my face, and I don’t recoil as he moves my hair back. “Didi, don’t worry about Remy or about what happened to Daniel, okay?”

I exhale slowly, but I’m curious. This all happened just before I arrived, and the emotional scars run so deep. No one talks about it, just haunted whispers in the bathroom and everyone looking over their shoulder. No one smiles here.