My Name is April

Chapter Two

TODAY SOMETHING FEELS DIFFERENT. The atmosphere in prison is not the same. Maybe something has happened. An escape. Or worse--a suicide.

"There's a new inmate," Lucas explains as he guides me down a long, narrow corridor for breakfast. The walls are pale blue and have a strong smell of fresh paint. My room is painted that colour. My therapist suggested it. Apparently it keeps my cortisol levels down.

It's hard to keep up with Lucas' wide steps today. I'm still tired from lack of sleep and the cuffs are weighing me down.

"A new inmate?" I say, intrigued. We haven't had one in years.

Lucas stays silent as we walk past two stern-looking custody officers escorting an inmate back to their room. Lucas is careful not to appear too friendly to a prisoner.

Especially me.

"Go and have some breakfast. We will talk about this later. I'll wait for you here," he says when we finally reach the end of the corridor. He hands me over to a lady officer who leads me closer to the door.

Another three officers by the entrance stop me to check my cuffs are intact before they allow me to go through the doors and into the dinner hall.

Glancing back at Lucas, I enter the hall. Walking in on my own, I feel a rush of anxiety and a sickening sensation lays heavily in my stomach.

Most inmates here are not very nice. And are especially mean to convicted murderers. And even though I'm small and skinny and frail, I'm no exception to this twisted rule.

But today they seem distracted. Like their focus is on something else entirely.

I grab a red tray from the pile and join the end of the line, trying to attract as little attention as possible. The line seems longer this morning. By the looks of it, it will probably be a half an hour before it's my turn. If I'm lucky.

When I'm almost convinced no one has noticed me, someone taps me on the shoulder. I jerk around, expecting a verbal or a physical attack. I blink at the unfamiliar person standing in front of me, smiling.

A boy. A tall, imposing boy with shaggy black hair and gray eyes. Dangerous gray eyes. Something, an instinct, tells me to stay away.

"Hi," he says. "I'm Logan."

He must be the new inmate Lucas mentioned earlier.

But what does he want from me?

"April King, right?" He grins. "I saw your video. Kinda scared me. I couldn't sleep for days. I was surprised when I heard you stay in this prison. I've always wanted to see you in person." He eyes me intently, starting from my head all the way down to my toes. "I must admit, the pictures do you no justice."

"Thank you," I say. My voice sounds strained. I don't know what else to say. This boy is out of his mind.

He gestures toward the line with his cuffed hands. He has a tattoo on both of his inner arms, a quote that I can't quite read from this angle.

I move up the line, feeling him shadow my movements from behind. He is so close I can feel the heat radiate from his body, his breath down my neck. It makes me shiver.

Curiosity gets the best of me and I turn back around to face him. I don't usually talk to inmates I don't know, but there's something about him that's both frightening and yet intriguing at the same time.

"What are you in for?" I ask. This sensitive question is normal for us prisoners. Like asking where you work or what your name was.

"Robbery," he says. "I stole a girl's heart."

I stare at him.

"It's a joke."

"Oh," I say.

"Partly anyway. I'm in for armed robbery."

I feel disappointed for some reason. The thought confuses me. What had I expected?

There's an awkward silence. Logan quickly tries to fill it. "Since I'm the new kid and I don't see any of your friends around. How about we save the embarrassment of sitting on our own, hm?"

"I like sitting on my own," I say flatly.

"I don't. And anyway, my mom always used to say food tastes better when you eat it with someone else. I guess even shitty, prison food counts."

A knot forms in my stomach at the thought of sharing a table with this stranger. I glance at the door, searching for Lucas. For familiarity. Anything apart from him feels unsafe.

Lucas has his back turned and is talking to one of the prison guards by the door, completely unaware of my distress.

I feel a warm hand on my lower back and I flinch away, startled.

"Sorry," Logan says. "The line is moving up."

I move up again and this time try to focus on the other people in the line. The man in front of me is tall, bulky with a bald head. The person in front of him is an older, curvy woman with short, black hair and graying roots. And the one in front of her--

Suddenly, I feel him slam into my back. I stumble forward, like a piece of domino, crashing into the man in front of me, and him into the woman in front of him.

I jerk around to see what happened.

Logan is crouched down beside me. His lip is bleeding. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?" He whispers to me, trying to help me up.

I stare, not sure how to respond.

An inmate leans down to grab Logan's arm and another one joins him, grabbing his other arm. Logan is forced onto his feet and then slammed into a wall. Both men are tall, so I can't see what they're doing to him.

But I don't need to see to know what is happening.

They're trying to scare him, to show him who is boss. This is like standard routine for all new inmates. I've seen it many times before.

I glance at the door, to alarm Lucas and the other custody officers, but they're already running toward them, ready to break up the fight.

"Are you alright?" Lucas says, appearing at my side within seconds.

I stare frantically at the brawl in front of me. "You have to help him."

Lucas nods and moves towards the other officers. When the guys are ripped away from Logan, I see him stare them down with a smirk intended to anger them. He spits the blood from his mouth in their faces as he is roughly escorted away.

And then the officers come for the rest of us.