Page 92 of Off the Rails

I was stuffing canned beans under my mattress. We had pretty limited places to hide things, daily inspections by the nuns making it nearly impossible to keep anything a secret.

Peeling the mattress up, more of my stash was visible than I’d meant it to be.

And then she walked in. Tess. Thirteen then.

Her little face scrunched up, confused by what she’d walked in on.

I had nearly run across our shared room, pulling her closer and closing the door behind us. Not all the way, that wasn’t allowed. The sound alone would have brought nuns running.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s nothing.” I’d tried to comfort her.

Shaking her head, Tess stared back at me. “You’re going to leave?”

“No… Well, yeah. Eventually.” I watched her face turn, from confusion to sadness. “You know, when we turn 18, they kick us out. Then we have nowhere to go. So Cass, Steph, and I are just preparing.”

A bold faced lie.

And she knew it, I could see that much in her blue eyes as they welled with tears.

“Can I come?” Tess asked, her arms crossed over her scrawny body.

Reaching to her face, I wiped just under her eye, clearing the tears from her skin. “We can’t. It won’t be safe. You’re better off here.”

She’d protested, almost screaming and yelling. And I had done my best to keep her quiet. But I could see how heartbroken she was.

The truth was, we couldn’t trust her. She was Pastor Harris’ little pet. She showed up to worship early and read her Bible before bed.

She wasn’t a rebel, she was a sheep.

And we needed to be wolves.

It was less than 24 hours later before Tess proved my point.

I was pulled from class and brought into the head pastor’s office. He sat me down, folded his hands together and explained that he’d gotten a report from fellow housemates that I was trying to corrupt the girls.

He’d slid a pamphlet across the table for Straight Path Therapy Group.

I was old enough to not need to look inside. Conversion therapy.

That little bitch had reported me, claiming I’d gotten my gay all over her. She was going to get me separated from Blade and Nash.

That’s what snapped me out of my memory, my grip around the wooden pirate ship railing tightening.

“She lied. She almost got me fucking imprisoned by religious psychos.” My voice was rising. “She almost got me taken away from you and Nash. Is that what you wanted?”

Blade laughed. “Of fucking course not. But we don’t know that it was her. And even if we did, she was twelve. How was she supposed to know what they’d do to you?”

Luckily, none of us had found out. We escaped early, with fewer supplies and less of a plan. But Nash, Blade, and I slipped out in the middle of the night — leaving one of the only safe homes we’d know since entering the foster system.

Throwing my hands up, I laughed. “Who else? She’s the only one who knew. It was her. I know it.”

Blade opened her mouth to respond but she stopped.

She knew I was right. Tess caught us, saw me. Bitter that we wouldn’t bring her pious ass with us, she turned us in. Little rat.

Vindictive.

After a moment, Blade met my dark eyes. “She was a kid. Even if it was her. We’ve been safe here for years. We built something for ourselves. Can’t that be enough?”