Chapter 2 The visitation room
Thanks When-A-Sprite-Meets-Unicorn, and Verarose19 for the reviews on the first chapter. Something a little more cheerful here.
The first moment of this chapter takes place at the start of Season 2 just before the Valentine's Day episode. The second at the end, in episode 13.
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The winter sun lights up the room. It enters through the windows, flows over the tables. It is the beginning of February. As soon as she arrives, she looks for him. She sees Ruiz's face, her boyfriend's stoic face. She speaks, he doesn't. A white girl is surrounded by her family. She is crying. Then Blanca sees Diablo's long hair. She comes to him. She touches her own hair, gathered in a ponytail, blinks her eyes, adorned with a mascara that Flaca has lent her.
He gets up when he sees her, opens his arms to her. She hugs him.
"I missed you, mi amor", he whispers.
Wanda Bell looks at them. They sit. They remains silent.
"Are you okay?" Diablo asks. He's not talking about Psych, but Blanca knows he's thinking about it. When she called, after returning to the camp, he didn't ask any questions. He just told her he was relieved. She felt the worry in his voice. Now she can feel it in his eyes. She smiles shyly, she tells herself that the effort on her hairstyle, and the mascara will perhaps be enough to reassure him.
Now he's asking questions. He knows prison, and maybe he hopes she will adapt to it, like he did.
"Did you try to talk to the others?"
She put her hands on her thighs, uncomfortable. Every day, she try, but she never has the courage. She thinks about the library, about Washington .
"No, not really", she says. But I read. The girl from the library suggested something called 'High wind in Jamaica.' It's a bit long, but I like to read, here."
"It's good, but you should try to make friends, baby. I told you before, time go faster if you have rituals and friends."
He insists. She gets angry. Her voice is a little louder:
"Look, prison might be your second home, but I can't bear it."
He remains calm, grabs her hand under the table, squeezes it.
"I know, Blanca. It's just two years, it's temporary. But, you have to give them a sense."
"There's a safe place, something organized by an old councilor to talk. Maybe I should go," she scoffs.
"Why not? Tell me about it next week," Diablo replies. She knows he's serious, and it's weird, but it amuses her.
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"The safe place, it's over," Blanca announces . She takes a handful of skittles, slides the bag across the table towards Diablo.
"Why?"
"I'm not sure. I think nobody went there anymore"
"You seem to be doing better since you did it," he observes cautiously. . Every time he says something like that, she gets angry. She tells him, that he thinks she's crazy, too, that if he thinks that, he can leave, never come back. He comes back every time.
Today she says nothing. She looks at him. She doesn't know what to anser.
She did everything he told her. She danced with two girls at the Valentine's Day party. She works with the other Latinas in the kitchen. Every morning after breakfast, they have a bad coffee, gathered around a cafeteria table. She listens to them chat. Sometimes she participates to the conversation. She goes to the library. Washington advises her on books, she lends her magazines. A pile grows under her bed.
She's a little too proud, too hesitant to give him the details. So she just tells Diablo that's it's thank to him that she feels better. They smile at each other. They cut the visit short, because they know they could share a long kiss.