"That's her," Daya said, nodding in the direction of Claire, who was interviewing Gloria about running the kitchen, that evening at dinner.
"Aye," Aleida said, scrunching up her face in disapproval.
Maritza nodded in agreement. "Looks like a slut if I ever seen one."
Daya smiled weakly, grateful for the support, but even she couldn't deny that Claire was pretty. With her bouncy, strawberry blonde hair, blue eyes and thin frame, she looked like one of Eva's Barbies. And she was constantly smiling and laughing with all of the inmates and guards. Daya was beginning to have second thoughts about being so keen on Bennett going out with her later.
"You're much sexier than that, Daya," Maria said, handing a tray to an inmate in line for food, but not taking her eyes off Claire. "Look at that flat ass. And she definitely a member of the itty bitty titty committee." All the girls broke out in laughter, even Daya.
"Thanks guys," she said, spotting Bennett across the cafeteria talking to Bell. She watched him for a minute before glancing back at Claire. "Yeah," she said, nodding, "Her ass is flat."
So there Bennett sat outside of Rudy's Bar in his parked car, seeing that Claire had already arrived. They'd planned to meet inside at 8:30, and his car's clock told him he was already five minutes late. He looked straight ahead, both hands still on the wheel, and watched as people walked past his car. He waited another moment, then cut the engine, pocketed his keys and stepped out onto the pavement.
Inside, trying to appear casual, he walked up to the bar where Claire sat, chatting to the female bartender.
"Hey!" she said when she saw him walk up. She stood up and gave him a quick hug. "Did you just now get off work? That's a long day..."
"Yeah, well everyone put in extra hours today because Caputo wanted to make sure nothing went wrong for the first day of the filming."
"Guess you have me to blame then," she said with a laugh, "sorry about that."
Before he could reply the bartender walked up and asked what he'd like.
"Whatever dark beer you have on tap," he told her, sitting down next to Claire.
"So," she said, sipping her vodka cranberry, "Long time no see. What have you been doing since college? I think I heard you went in to the marines?"
He nodded as his beer was placed in front of him. "Yeah, I didn't really know what I wanted to do after I dropped out, and my dad had always wanted me to join the military so I thought 'what the Hell'." He laughed nervously.
She smiled. "Wow, that's great. And you said you have a girlfriend?"
"Yes, yes I do."
"How long have you two been together?"
"About six months, I think," he took a swig of his beer. "Are you dating anyone?"
"Not at the moment, no. I just got out of a long term relationship actually. Six years." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
"Oh, that is long. Longer than I've ever been with anyone."
"It was time for a change. So how did you meet...I'm sorry, what's your girlfriend's name?"
"Her name's...Mary. We met uh, at a bowling alley." He'd watched The Big Lebowski on cable last night, so that was the first thing that came to mind.
"Oh, that's nice! So you both like to bowl?"
"All the time," he smiled, "We, uh, we just love the sport of it, you know?"
August 1st, 1993
One day when John was seven, he was in the basement where his step dad kept all his model trains. That was his hobby, setting the trains up and controlling them with a little remote; he probably had almost a hundred different ones. He'd always told John to stay away from them because they were very valuable.
So one day John went down there and he had only wanted to look, but one thing led to another and he somehow managed to knock over an entire shelf of trains and all their accessories.
Well, his step dad heard the noise and came running down the basement stairs to see him standing next to the pile of his beloved, now destroyed trains. Grabbing his arm, he hit him once across the face, just once, but got him good. John started to cry immediately, and then they both heard his mother's voice scream, "Get away from him!" And then she was running down the stairs, her face looking angrier than John had ever seen.
His step dad let his arm go, and his mom pulled him to her and said in a low voice, "If you ever touch him again I'll slit your throat."
John stared up at her. His mother, a devout Mormon, had never so much as used the word 'damn' in front of him, let alone threaten to pull a knife on her husband. Nevertheless, that was the first and last time his step dad ever hit him, and later that fall he and his mother packed their bags and left him for good.
"Mommy, can we go to the pool?" Daya moaned, "It's so hot."
"Stop your whining," Aleida snapped at her.
"Can we turn the cold on then? Please, mommy?"
"Sure, Dayanara. As soon as you start working three jobs and paying the rent. Just go stick your head in the fridge. But don't hold it open too long, that shit costs money too." Aleida took a long drag from her cigarette, clutching a beer can in her other hand, her eyes glued to the tv.
Five year old Daya got up from the floor where she'd been working on a Cinderella coloring book and went in to the kitchen. She opened up the fridge and stood between the door and the shelves, closing it as far as it would go. The only items that sat inside were two half empty six packs, a jar of salsa and a carton of milk. She thought that maybe, just maybe, if she made herself small enough she could fit right on the shelf next to the Bud Light.
If she made herself small enough, maybe no one would ever find her, and she could just disappear.
It was the first time since her incarceration that Daya's siblings had come to see her. They all looked so different, even just after six months.
"What'd you get for your birthday?" she asked Christina, who had just turned twenty.
"Cesar got me an iphone. But then Lucy dropped it and it cracked." She gave the younger girl a mean look.
"I didn't mean to!" Lucy protested.
Daya smiled; it was good to hear her sisters fighting like old times. It was comforting to her.
"Daya, when are you coming home?" Lucy asked, looking up at her.
"Before you know it, baby. Hey, how's seventh grade going?"
"I don't like riding the bus. I wish you could walk me."
"Well at least you have Eva with you, right?" Daya looked at Eva.
"I don't want to sit with a bunch of seventh graders," she said, "I sit with my eighth grade friends."
Daya sighed and looked at Emiliano. "So you're getting ready to graduate, huh? You excited?"
He just nodded, having always been the shy one of the bunch.
"Hey, Daya is that him?" Christina asked, lowering her voice and looking at someone behind Daya.
Daya looked over her shoulder to see that Bennett was on duty overlooking the visiting room. They made eye contact for a brief moment.
Turning back around, she said, "Who told you?"
Christina rolled her eyes. "I listen in on Aleida's and Cesar's phone calls, duh. He's pretty hot."
"Listen, you can't say nothing about that to anyone. People think my real baby daddy's this other fucker and he got locked up in prison."
"Yeah, I know, we saw the news. I'm not gonna say anything." She looked past Daya again, settling her gaze on Bennett.
"Stop staring at him," Daya said.
"I can't help it," Christina smiled at her, "My new brother-in-law's hot."
It was after dinner, and Daya had lingered in the kitchen, busying herself so that she'd be left alone with Bennett. When everyone else was gone, she stood leaning up against the doorway, smiling at him.
"What?" he asked, standing up, having been retying his shoe.
She just kept smiling and raised her eyes knowingly.
"Now?" He questioned, knowing exactly what she was implying; he'd gotten used to her pregnancy mood swings. Depressed one minute, horny the next, five minutes later yelling at him.
She just shrugged and smiled again, seemingly at a loss for words.
"Is everyone gone?" Bennett asked, looking around the dark hallway as if expecting someone to jump out from behind a trashcan. Daya just kept on grinning innocently.
"Are you gonna say something," he asked, half laughing.
"Fuck me, John," she said, not so innocent anymore.
"Woah, Daya, you gotta be more quiet. We're not in a closet, anyone can hear."
She walked up to him slowly, and when she was standing right in front of him, she lightly touched her index finger to his lips. "Shh," she whispered, "I want you to fuck me."
...
Relieved to finally be alone, she casually gripped his broad shoulders and roughly shoved him up against the wall, meeting his lips almost forcefully with her own. He tangled his hands in her hair and she gripped his biceps, turning her head to the side to deepen the kiss.
"This is safe, right?" he asked breathlessly against her lips, "You know, since what happened yesterday with the bleeding." She simply grabbed between his legs in response, figuring that will suffice in ending his worries.
She'd begun fumbling with the buttons on his shirt when they both heard a noise, and the door of the closet they were in swung open. They separated, rushing to button and zip everything back up, but they weren't quick enough; Caputo had seen, and was now standing in the doorway, a mix exasperation and utter horror written on his face.
After a few seconds of opening and closing his mouth he just said, "What the fucking fuck?!"
"Sir. Mr. Caputo," Bennett stammered, "This looks bad, I know."
"Shitnuts, Bennett. I warned you about this." He pointed at him, looking him right in the eye. "I gave you a chance and you blew it." He turned to Daya. "You're headed to max, inmate."
"No, please," Daya said, looking to John for help.
"Sir, it's my fault. Don't punish her, move me to another prison. It's my fault."
"I cannot have this!" he exclaimed, "Not with the, the fucking documentary people filming every damn thing. What if it was one of them you caught you, huh?"
"Please," Bennett was desperate now. He looked at Caputo, hoping to appeal to any ounce of sympathy he had left in him.
"I said..." Caputo looked back and forth between the two of them, "she's headed down the hill. Say goodbye to Ms. Diaz, Daddy."