“I don’t BELIEVE it!  You did it, kid!” says Brian slapping me on the back in a half-hug.  I don’t appreciate being called “kid” but it’s nice to see this show of happiness in Brian’s normally somber demeanor and general condescension to his ten year junior, so I’ll take it.  Gina already has her arms around me in a death grip hug, and I almost am reminded of the feeling of Julia’s fingers crunching me threateningly.  It’s odd to feel so comforted by the same loss of sensation in my arms I was terrified by earlier.  Anna gave me a kiss on the forehead when she heard the news; she wants to get that baby out of here more than anything.

                After all of them clobber me with hugs and congratulations, we all quickly move into one of the “bedrooms” so I can give them the full story.  We take a seat, Gina hanging on my shoulder, Anna on Brian’s, Kelly cross-legged in front of me like a kid waiting for story time.  All of us have just had our spirits significantly lifted, and nothing’s even really been done yet; the hard work on my part is still to come.  It really doesn’t take that long to tell what happened, but they are all hanging on every word.  It’s like Christmas.

                “Wow… I just can’t believe…” starts Kelly.

                “…it happened so quickly…” finishes Anna, still in disbelief.

                “See, Jack…” says Brian knowingly.  “Maybe this is the wrong way to say this, but what the hell… TOLD you so.”

                Anna punches Brian in the shoulder.  “Ow!” says Brian in pretend pain.  “Raggin’ on the bearer of truth, eh?” he says, wrapping an arm around her.  She smiles.

                “We’re proud of you, Jack,” she says.

                “And we’ll be here for you in… whatever it is that comes next,” says Kelly, grabbing ahold of my knee and shaking it in support; she knows I’m scared, so she tries to pick careful words.

                I appreciate everything they’re saying, and I know what they’re saying is true because they all want out of this place more than anything any of us have ever wanted in our lives, and they know that the key to their survival lies in my survival.

                And the fact of the matter is: that idea scares the shit out of me better than anything Julia could do to me on her worst day.  Because I know I’d never be able to live with myself if anything happened to these four people and fifth upcoming person when they were relying on me.  And honestly, if anything did happen to them, chances are I’d be up on the chopping block next, so I honestly wouldn’t have to live with myself for long.

                We chat a little more, the girls packing on etiquette and things to remember for the date, possibly things I might want to say to keep the conversation flowing and believable for Julia.  After it gets a lot later, we all agree we better get some sleep if we want to be able to function well in Julia’s beloved musical audition tomorrow.

                I lumber off to my room and take a seat at the end of my matchbox, casually rubbing at my shoulders as all the tossing around I’ve gone through today is catching up to me; from the bruising I got from being squeezed hard, to dangling upside down and having my oxygen cut off by Julia’s massive slimy tongue, to falling off her powerful leg, and being dropped a few times through her sideways cupped hand, it’s not been a (physically) pleasant day. My muscles are aching like hell, I was frankly just too happy while with the others to even notice it.  I lean back on my “matchbox” bed, looking up at the plastic ceiling, trying to shift into a comfortable position.  It’s not working, I can tell this is going to be a sort of painful night.

                After a few minutes pass, I hear footsteps in front of me.  I sit up, and of course can’t tell who it is in the dark, even though I can sort of see a form.

                “Hey,” I say casually, sitting back up, not quite sure who it is.

                “Hi, Jack,” says Gina, stepping forward.  Although it’s dark, my eyes are adjusting and I can sort of see her now that she’s standing directly in front of me.  “Are you… okay?”

                “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

                “Really?” she says, sounding worried. 

She does this an awful lot, but I don’t mind; when you have someone who wouldn’t hesitate to kill you in her fist in the “outside” world, it’s great to have someone who cares about you “inside.”  I’m not talking about the rest of the people in this house, because all of us care for each other pretty much like family now, from the time we’ve spent together.  But Gina’s different.  She’s feared for my safety a lot lately, as have I hers.  And since today I actually realized I care for Gina a little more, now that she’s standing in front of me, just the two of us, I suddenly feel little goose bumps popping up on my arms.  Thank God it’s dark so she can’t see them.

“Yeah, really…” I say, and leaning forward I inadvertently make a cracking noise somewhere in my left shoulder blade.  It’s pretty damn sore.  I involuntarily make a little grunting sound but cover it with a cough.  In the dark, I see her form quickly move to the matchbox, which sags a little as she takes a seat on it.

“It doesn’t sound like it…” she says.  I’m about to protest, but a moment later I feel her hands on my shoulders, kneading them.  Her hands are warm and her fingers seem to know where to go to make it feel a little better, so I just go with it; it feels damn good, and I think I can afford a feeling like that right about now.

“Feeling any better yet?” she says after a couple silent minutes.  Her hands work over my shoulders, then slowly move to my shoulder blades, where the real soreness is.

“Oh, yeah,” I say, perhaps more creepily sounding than I meant.  We both chuckle.  “Well, you know what I mean… in the non-predatory way, yes,” I clarify, and she chuckles again.  She’s apparently very practiced at this; her fingers knead with speed but the right amount of pressure to help alleviate the stress.  “Where did you learn to…”

“…back rubs?  It was my mom, she owns a beauty shop and they give these to the customers, in the summers she’d let me come in to work to get some extra money, I learned pretty quickly how to do it from her,” she answers, continuing on past my shoulder blades and down to the midsection of my back.  “I was… trying to earn money for… a car,” she says, her voice going distant a little.  She laughs again, almost in a snorting way.  “Funny… I had one picked out, I knew what I was getting for myself.  I’ll bet… I’ll bet someone’s already picked it out…” she says, and I can tell she’s reminiscing about the past.  To ensure she doesn’t drown too deep in the memories we all experience and want desperately again, I chime in.

“… and you’ll get another one when we get out.  I’ll help you pick one out,” I tell her confidently.

“Thank you,” she says, snapping out of it.  “I’d like that.”

“It’ll be soon.  Trust me.  Once I can get her to…” I start, but even though I can’t see Gina’s face, I know it makes her uncomfortable to hear me mention the plan with Julia.  She hates it just as much as I hate having to look Julia in the gigantic face and tell her I have a crush on her; she has to watch the guy she likes being lifted up like a little Ken doll into the unmerciful hands of an angry goddess for a dinner date tomorrow night.  “Well, you know.  It’ll be soon,” I conclude.

“Jack…” says Gina, and I can already tell she wants to try and protest the plan again.

“I’m sorry Gina, but it has to happen…” I start.

“NO, Jack, it doesn’t,” she says more forcefully, almost as if talking to a little kid. 

People seem to be doing that to me a lot lately.

“There’s no other way, Gina.  We have to think about this right.  We have to be smart.  It’s the safest thing for everyone.”

“Except you.”

I sigh.  “Look, Gina, I’m safe.  I might be safer than all of you, you know.  As long as I play my cards right, I’m in the clear for almost anything.”

“But… but after today, after what she did.  She…” begins Gina.  “…LIKES you, and she almost, well, you know, DID it to you today…”

She’s one hundred percent correct, but neither of us wants to ponder that little fact, so I keep it going.

“That won’t happen again.  I just stay in line, feed her what she wants to hear, get the right moment for long enough, and… we’re out of here.  Probably sooner than you think.  It’s foolproof, failsafe.  Nothing to lose if we just stick to the plan.”

Gina sighs now, her fingers reaching my lower back and working in deep.  “I just… I can’t WATCH her when she’s… got you… in her hand.  I mean, I know you say you’re okay with heights, and I believe you and everything, but just… to see her holding you up there in the air like… like you’re hers, like you’re just a toy to her… it’s not… it’s not right,” she says, her voice straining.

“Hey… it’s okay.  I’m okay.  I know she won’t hurt me if I just keep it up…” I say.  Gina works out the final kink in my back, and it’s already feeling a lot better, the soreness still there but it’s bearable.  I lean forward, and my bruised abs protest.  Another grunt.  I’m literally embarrassing myself here with how fragile I apparently am.

“Oh, for God’s sake… okay, lean back,” says Gina.

“What?” I say, not getting it at first.

“Lean back,” she orders, grabbing my shoulders and pulling down.  I lay down with my head in her lap, resting in the space between her thighs.  It’s very relaxing, and I could almost fall asleep right here if it wouldn’t be so mind-bogglingly embarrassing to do that in front of her.

Her fingers get ahold of my abs and obliques and start to work into them.  They can’t do as much here since it’s mostly bruising, but it feels good nonetheless to feel her warm hands sliding over my cold abdomen.

“Jack, she’s right… you are getting thinner.  You really do need to eat more, if this keeps getting worse, you need… SOMETHING on your bones to protect you,” says Gina sternly, continuing to work.

                “Okay, okay, fine, I will.  You sound a little like Stella did,” I say jokingly.  Stella was one of my foster moms who meant well but was extremely pushy, and I’ve told Gina all about her.

                Gina lets go of my abs and brings her hand to my face, where she slaps one of my cheeks gently in a joking way without saying a word before continuing to work my abs and sides.  She finishes it out, then leans over and looks me in the face.

                “Just… be careful tomorrow, okay?” she says.  Her hands move to my hair and run through it, soothing my cold head.  I wish she could sit here all night and do this, but I know she needs sleep too.

                “I will,” I say knowingly.  I hope to God I am, for all our sakes.

                She slides her fingers through my hair a few more times, then finally lifts her legs out from under me, her warm thigh brushing against my face, and slides off the bed.  She ruffles my hair one more time before stepping quietly out of the room, leaving me on the matchbox where I can finally sleep peacefully and almost painlessly.