Page 87 of The Glass Girl

“Wait,” I tell her.

“What?” She’s impatient.

“Like, count everybody first, like Lara said, so you know how much stuff we need to take out.”

She blows a strand of hair off her cheek and faces the kitchen, her lips moving slowly.

“Sixteen, plus us. Twenty, then. Wait, Tracy, too. Twenty-one.”

“Holly,” I say, because she’s just standing there. “You do the silverware. Billy, you do the napkins. I’ll do the cups and stuff.”

I find a cart in a corner of the kitchen and start loading it with plastic coffee cups and plastic glasses. There are coffee urns and pitchers filled with orange juice, so I add those, too. They’re heavy and I almost drop one.

We get everything set up on the tables in the other room, and gradually, kids from the kitchen start coming out with bowls of eggs and tofu and bacon, platters of sliced fruit, trays of yogurt and cereal and cartons of milk.

They arrange the food on the tables and begin sitting down.

It’s like a Thanksgiving with total strangers. Only I guess all of us would rather be high or drunk or anywhere but here.

“Okay,” Lara says, coming out of the kitchen. “Eat.”

She waves me to a table and I scoot myself in. She slides next to me on the bench. Kids start passing trays and bowls from person to person. I scoop out eggs and fruit.

“Everyone, say hi to our newbies,” Lara says. “I’ll start. I’m Lara and I’m the queen, because I’ve been here the longest and I’m getting out the soonest. Well, second soonest. Sarah’s tomorrow.”

She points to the person on her right.

One by one, everyone says their names. Marshall, Gideon, Sarah, Nick, Josh, Charlotte, and they keep going. It’s a blur. I don’t think I’m going to be able to remember them all. I kind of wish they’d all say their name followed by what they’re here for, becausethatwould be interesting. Like,I’m Larry, cokehead. I’m Molly, and I like molly.

The girl named Gideon says, “Hey, roomies.”

She winks.

Her head is shaved. She’s the one who was laughing at me when I did that first run with Chuck. I look away from her.

There’s a silence. Lara nudges me.

It’s my turn. I say my name in a low voice.

“Don’t be shy,” she says. “Is it your face? No one cares. Shyness and shame will eat you alive. Nick!”

A kid with long braids looks up, mouth full. “What?”

“Do you think Bella’s face is funny?”

“Aw, no.” He smiles at me, breaking a piece of toast in half.

“Charlotte, what about you?”

The girl with pink hair nods. She’s the one who was flipping off Tracy in the Polaroid in the activity room. “Yeah, Iactually do. Sorry. I mean, the shit that happens to us, right? It looks painful, though. I hope she’s okay.” She pauses. “Once, I was so high I let a guy tattoobootyon my…actual booty. Wanna see?”

She stands up.

“Yes,” Billy says immediately.

Charlotte puts a hand on the waistband of her leggings.

“Charlotte,” Tracy warns.

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