“The room is tiny and it smells like bleach. Tinier even than the room I was in before I fell asleep. I don’t remember waking up and being moved, but here I am, and let’s be honest—I don’t remember a whole lot lately. He’s sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, and his knees spread apart. I watch as he tilts his head back and belts out the chorus to Oh Cecelia.
He’s pretty hot.
“Oh my god,” I say. “If we’re going to be locked in here, can you at least sing something good?”
I don’t know where that came from. I don’t even know this boy. He finishes, punctuating the last word with a really off-key eh-eh-eh-eh. It’s then that I realize that I not only recognize the song he’s singing but also know the lyrics. Things change, and suddenly I’m not the girl anymore. I’m watching the girl watch the boy.
“I’m hungry,” she says.
He lifts his hips off the ground and digs around in his pocket. When he pulls out his hand, he’s holding a lifesaver.