The Dream Where the Losers Go Read Online Free PDF

back to the lockup by 4:30, so the staff hadn’t been too hard on her. Jigger had driven her, and there had been time to park briefly down the street. He had said he would pick her up at the bus stop this morning.
    “Come into my office,” Terry quipped.
    Skey walked into the mind-reading trap. “I’ll go see Ms. Renfrew today, I promise,” she said quickly, sitting down.
    “Yeah yeah,” said Terry. Skey shot her a quick glance. Terry grinned, but Skey couldn’t make it to a smile. A pause followed as they sat opposite one another, lit by the fluorescent lighting that seemed to work double-time in the office, while the rest of the unit relaxed in relative shadow. Closing her eyes, Skey found herself in the tunnel of light from her dream, still vivid and burning in her head. With a grimace, she opened her eyes.
    “Headache?” asked Terry, watching, assessing.
    “I guess,” said Skey. “A bit.”
    “School jitters?” said Terry.
    Skey almost laughed. School Jiggers , she wanted to say. For a moment she felt him pressed against her, the way he had yesterday afternoon in the car before she had gotten out.If she could just explain to Terry what it meant to feel his hands again, the way everything in her ran toward his touch. But if she tried, staff would probably stop her from seeing him. Adults were always suspicious of teenagers touching each other. Skey gripped the arms of her chair and focused on Terry’s slight mustache. Why didn’t the woman wax?
    “Did your mother call you last night?” asked Terry.
    “No,” said Skey.
    “First day of school,” said Terry, surprised, “and she didn’t call to see how it went?”
    “I don’t know if she knew the exact day.” Skey’s headache was definitely getting worse, coming at her in sharp white bursts. “Can I go now?” she asked.
    “Let me know when you’re ready,” said Terry, “and I’ll let you out.”
    Skey stood to walk out the door.
    “Skey,” said Terry. “One more thing. What color are you feeling today?”
    “Radioactive,” said Skey. Walking to her room, she closed her door.
    J IGGER’S CAR WAS IDLING at the bus stop. From half a block away, Skey could see him slapping the steering wheel. Quick sharp slaps. “I thought you said 8:15,” he snapped as she opened the door.
    “There’s a new girl in the unit,” Skey said, getting in. “She has problems with mornings. She yells and throws things a lot. It’s her hobby. The staff had to hold her down, and I couldn’t get anyone to unlock the door and let me out. Sorry.”
    For a second Jigger stared, then lifted an eyebrow. “Sounds like a real party.”
    Something twisted in Skey’s throat. “No,” she said, without thinking. “It isn’t. It’s a dungeon of shit and puke. The rooms are huge as loneliness, no matter how many girls are there. The music’s always playing louder than you can think. The girls spend their time thinking about everything they’re missing, and half the time someone’s screaming. They’re a bunch of losers in there, Jigger. A bunch of losers.”
    The words left her in a hot rush and she was suddenly exhausted, sitting with her head back and her eyes closed. When she opened them again, Jigger was staring straight ahead, one thumb rubbing the steering wheel.
    “I’m not like them,” she muttered quickly. “I’m not.”
    “Of course you’re not.” Jigger’s voice pushed up into a bright artificial cheeriness. “You’ll be out of there in no time, and then I’ll take you to some real parties.” He smiled at her, crinkling his eyes at the corners as if he really meant it. “All right?”
    It was some kind of deal, Skey realized, staring at him. Jigger was offering this grin to her as a contract. We won’t pay any attention to the shit , he was telling her, and the shit will go away. When we’re together, no shit.
    She pulled a tight smile over her lips and said, “Just a short stay at the Holiday Inn.”
    A brief coldness came and went