"There she is. This is Rory. Rory, this is everyone." Lori breaks the tension a bit. "Well, almost everyone." She goes through everyone's names before adding, "Rick, Glenn and Herschel aren't here right now."
"They'll be back soon. They will be." Maggie assures. Her voice, similar to Beth's. Calm, inviting with a hint of southern. Lori nods.
"On another note, dinner will be ready in about an hour. Please clean yourselves up before then." I notice her sideways glance at a man, the one who noticed me earlier. Daryl.
"Don't worry 'bout me, I ain't stayin'." He grumbles before walking past me and out of the house.
"Come sit down, Hun." Maggie invites. I abide, taking a spot on the couch next to Beth and Jimmy. The others leave, now just me, Beth and Jimmy.
"So, how old are you anyways?" Jimmy asks.
"Uh, fourteen." As of four days ago.
"Cool, I'm seventeen, so's Beth." I nod, not knowing what to say. There's a moment of awkward silence, before Beth breaks it.
"You read?"
"What?" I heard what she said, but I wasn't quite sure what else to say. What an odd question at a time like... like this.
"Do you read? We found books in your bag, the one you had when they found you."
"Oh. Um, yeah, I did."
After a few more awkward, one sided conversations with the two teens who obviously don't want to be here, Patricia calls us for dinner.
"Come sit here, sweetie." Lori calls to me, patting a seat next to her. I take it, to my other side is a young boy, Lori's son, Carl. He smiles at me, a sincere smile, one you have to smile back at, no choice otherwise.
"Rory," Andrea calls from across the table, "What's your story? I was the one who found you, you know."
"I uh, I don't really have one. Not a good one, anyway. Nothing worth telling."
"Well, sure it is. Let's hear it." Dale pipes in.
"How about we all just eat?" Lori saves me, I can't tell them. Not yet. Not when they have no reason to trust me aside from my appearance of a helpless little girl.
I watch the others dig into their meat and potatoes before I join it, taking care not to inhale it this time. I listen in on their conversations, taking in each of their personalities. I tried to pick out the leader, but none of them seemed to fit the part.
The sound of forks scraping the plates clean indicates the end of dinner. We all bring our plates to the kitchen to rinse and place them in the soapy water in the sink, something I haven't done since the days at the cottage with my family, so long ago yet still engraved in my head, though I wish it wasn't. Every memory brings unneeded hurt. I don't notice myself, swaying in a daze, someone else does.
"Are you okay?" It's Carl. "Do you need to sit down?"
"Huh? I'm fine. Sorry."
"Well, don't apologize. I'm glad you're okay. Now, come on." He walks off and I trail behind him, out the door, off the porch, down the lawn and finally to a group of tents and one trailer. "Here, this is where you'll sleep, with me and my mom and my dad when he gets back."
Inside, the moonlight shines through the thin material, setting a greenish haze around the tent. Three sleeping bags are set up, two on one side of the tent, one on the other. Carl pulls one of the two into the middle of the others. "Here. This is yours for now." I take a seat on the sleeping bag, Carl on his. With nothing to do, I just stare off into space.
After minutes of boredom, Lori enters the tent.
"Good, I'm glad to see Carl got you settled in. I brought some extra blankets and a pillow for you. If you need anything, I'll be right outside. Or Carl sleeps right there."
"Thank you, Lori. Thank you." I mean it, this is more than anyone's ever done for me, and in the middle of the end of the world where you never know who you can trust, this means everything.
"Like I said, you're safe now. Goodnight, Rory."
