Page 130 of Finish Line

I scan the room. Two bunk beds sit on opposite walls with an end table between them. At the end of the beds are two, six-shelve, open storage cube units.

I pick up my items, refold three uniforms and underclothes, and put them on one of the shelves. I change into the last uniform.

Julia returns, takes my clothes, and leaves, not saying anything to me. Like my other items, I doubt I’ll ever see those clothes again.

Since folded sheets sit on top of the bunk on the left, I climb up and make my bed. Once done, I decide to check out the place, since Julia failed to give me the rest of the tour.

I walk down the hall, and the open doors reveal rooms identical to mine. I find the bathrooms, which are just what I expected. Ten toilet stalls stand to the left of a double-sided row of sinks with mirrors and a single long shelf mounted over them. The five curtained-off showers are on the right side of the sinks.

I take the stairs to the first floor and look for the common room.

An older, large-screen TV hangs from one wall. In front of it sits a large sectional, and bean bags are scattered around the space.

These kids have no idea how nice they have it.

Some kids mill around. Shouldn’t they be in school?

When I walk into the room, some guys call out, “Fresh meat.”

I roll my eyes at the comment.

Spotting a phone on the wall, I walk over to it. The sign above the phone says, Input your account PIN or choose to call collect.

pick it up and make a collect call to Cam to hear his calming voice. I hope he picks up since he won’t recognize this number, and it’s late.

“Hello?” he answers.

“It’s me,” I whisper.

“Thank God. We received your text saying you wouldn’t have your phone and that Nick didn’t need to bring you anything. When you didn’t reply to our texts and the phone went to voicemail, we figured they took it from you and turned it off. We’ve been trying to figure out how we would contact you.” He sighs. “I understand the phone, but why couldn’t Nick bring you some of your stuff?”

“We’re required to wear uniforms.” My bottom lip wobbles as I try not to cry. “They took the rings you gave me.”

“What? Why?” his voice raises.

“Like with our clothes, we aren’t allowed any personal items.” My hand tightens on the phone. “I’m worried they won’t return them.”

“We won’t let that happen, Shelby. Dom and Mav will retrieve your stuff. You know they can, right?” he asks.

“Yeah.” I take a deep breath.

“Since you don’t have your phone, how will we contact you?” Cam asks.

“I’m not sure. Give me a minute.” I turn toward the couch behind me and ask the guy sitting on it, “Hey, can people call us here?”

He turns and looks at me. “You can give them that number, but the likelihood of someone finding you if someone calls is slim.”

“Then, how do you receive calls?” I ask.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “You don’t, new girl.”

I turn around. “It doesn’t sound like you can call me.”

“Is it bad?” he asks, concerned.

“No, it’s different with the uniforms, but as far as the appearance and most amenities are concerned, it’s posh compared to Ashland and some of the other group homes I’ve been in,” I say.

“Hey, new girl! You’re not allowed to use the phone unless you want to pay the toll,” some guy behind me says.

---