Juvy part 4

I stood by the large sink and rhythmically moved the towel around the plates in circles. The water that splashed on me from the sink felt refreshing since I was standing in front of the window and the sun was shining in directly in my eyes. As I watched the water droplets disappear off the plate, I thought of nothing but the feeling of Juvy’s shoulder under my cheek. His hair was growing and his brown locks had brushed up on my face. His arm had held my shoulder like he was afraid I might disappear at any moment. As I thought about it, I supposed that out of his experience, it wasn’t unlikely that I would disappear. You can’t hold on to anything or anyone while you’re at Juvy. They stripped you of your identity and left you with loose fitting one piece outfits and tireless chores. It was hard to get close to people because they were all criminals and it is really harder than you may think to deal with not knowing what everyone around you did. For instance, Juvy. He had a life sentence, but he was at the Juvy camp for the kids who had committed the less serious crimes. So what could he have possibly done? As I imagined his soft sea foam green eyes and his easy speech that could make anyone laugh, I decided I didn’t need, didn’t want to know.

At home, I would never let someone in so easily. I was so boarded off, I kept to myself and never spoke to a male specimen unless it was to ask about homework and I had already called every girl in the grade. I remembered one time when a guy had tried to flirt with me and I had cowered away. “Did it hurt?” he had asked, one of the most cheesy pick-up-lines anyone could ever use. “What?” I asked. “When you fell from heaven?” he inquired with a cheesy smile, clearly knowing how old this line was. “Um...no.” I had replied, and then I quickly hurried around him and ran to my locker. It felt strange to let Juvy be so close to me and talk to me so much. He probably thought I was just as open as him. Something had changed in me when I stepped into the van that was to bring us to Juvy camp. I lost any lack of confidence. I figured, I’m here already, what worse thing could happen? I’ve got nothing to lose. Nothing at all.

“Hello beautiful Girl,” Juvy said as he walked up to the table I was sitting at, staring at the glob of mush on my plate that was considered food here. “Boy,” I addressed him. He sat down with no plate and started playing with my hair again. “Don’t you ever eat?” I asked. “On my own time,” he replied simply, not putting my hair down. “Are you guys together?” a girl next to Juvy asked. Juvy turned to face her and said, looking around, “Who wants to know?”

“Um...me,” she replied awkwardly. “Ok then, you. Are you addressing me and the girl next to me?”

“Um...yea,” she said, obviously not used to someone like Juvy. “Well then, to that I’d have to reply with a maybe. What do you think, Girl?” he asked, turning to face me. I didn’t think about it, I just said it. “Yes, we are,” I said simply. I couldn’t believe I had said it. My best friends Isabelle and Marta would have passed out if they heard me said that. They had tried so hard to find a guy for me, but even George, the one they called my ‘soul mate’, scared me out of my socks. I couldn’t handle guys. But now, here I was, assuring to a random stranger that the boy I met two days ago is my boyfriend. “Well there you have it,” Juvy said, smiling at me. I wanted to smile back but my face was in shock. My whole body was in shock. “Why do you ask?” Juvy said as he turned back to face the girl. “Um...I was just wondering,” she said. Juvy wrinkled his eyebrows and said to her, “You say um a lot.” The girl raised her eyebrows, clearly not expecting that statement, and Juvy turned to face me again and went back to playing with my hair. “So what did you mean by you eat on your own time?” I asked him, leaving the girl in shock. “Oh, you’ll find out someday,” he replied. I sighed and he wrinkled his eyebrows again as I said, “Well, I do have plenty of time.” He stopped playing with my hair and stared down at the table like I had just said something that deeply disturbed him. Was it because he had a life sentence? Did he want to get out of here that much? The image of him trying to get over the fence came to my head and I thought, yes, he does want to get out. “How much do you want to get out of here?” I asked him. He was totally not surprised by my question. He turned his head to look at me straight in the eye with the most serious expression I had ever seen on him, or anyone else for that matter. “I don’t want to die here,” he said. He looked down at his fists, clenched on the table top and said, “I won’t die here.”

© 2009