Chapter 2

The last thing Mickey wanted to do was deal with the reminders of her life back at home. Yet there Alan was. Rather, there Squid was, having to ruin it all. Why the hell he was named something as lame as Squid was beyond her. Of course it was better than Barf Bag. (She felt bad about that kid, despite not knowing who he was).

She knew seeing Alan again would be tough but this was worse than she ever imagined. How easy was it to come face-to-face with someone who used to be your best friend? Someone who was now a stranger? It sucked. Which made it easier to come to the solution that she would just pretend he didn't exist.

Instead she would focus on the piles of potatoes that she was assigned to prepare for dinner. She lost count of how many she peeled past fifteen. A few of them had gouge marks from her anger but those were salvageable. There were a handful of potatoes that were rotten beyond comprehension. She threw those away in disgust, only to be reprimanded by a guard for "wasting food".

If that was the 'food' they were supposed to eat the entire time they were incarcerated, Mickey wasn't so sure she wanted to eat.

The rhythm she had built up while peeling the potatoes wavered as she glanced up to see one of the boys staring at her. Her eyes immediately dropped back down as she pulled the sharpened blade across the vegetable. A strip of the skin landed on the pile that steadily grew in the trashcan sitting between her knees. Despite the tingly, itchy feeling she was getting from the stares she kept her focus on the task at hand. Then she could get a shower in while the boys were eating and not worry about them taking a peek at her. She thanked God that she had brought her bathing suit with her, despite the fact that the place had no lake. (Why name it after something that wasn't there? It continued to baffle her.) But then again it was a good thing that it was named in such a way that she had one less thing to worry about.

Now all she had to focus on was not to be murdered in her sleep. Or worse.

Mickey paused in her peeling and tugged at the collar of the ill-fitting jumpsuit. She was swimming in the fabric. It hung loose on her thin frame and bunched up in unflattering places. Not that she particularly cared about her appearance, especially not now. But she did wish she had a jumpsuit that was less bulky. But she wasn't going to complain about that. That would be foolish on her part. She didn't want to give any of them any reason to point her out better than they could now.

She was sentenced for a year and she didn't want to start off on the wrong foot.

Lifting the heavy sleeve of her jumpsuit, she rubbed it across her forehead. Her nose wrinkled at the scratchy, porous fabric and, once again, brushed the sleeve back only for it to fall over her small hands. Huffing as quietly as possible, she lifted the sleeve again so she could go back to peeling the seemingly never ending mountain of potatoes.

"Finally!" Mickey exclaimed as she put the last potato into the metal pan a little while later. She tossed down the peeler and wiped her hands off on a nearby towel. She flexed her fingers and smiled at the satisfying crack and the release of pressure at the joints. "Now I can get a shower and—"

"Where do you think you're going?" the guard asked, stopping her quick escape.

"T-to the showers?" Mickey replied, her statement coming out more like a question. The stern expression on the guard's face didn't face. "…Sir?" she added, her voice rising in pitch as her shoulders lifted up to her ears. Still, the man's face never changed. "No?"

"If you think you're getting out of here due to some sort of special treatment—"

"No! No, I'm not! I don't think I deserve any special treatment at all. No, in fact, I don't deserve any treatment at all. You-you can just leave me here to die I the sun. Wipe your hands of all of this. No one would be the wiser!" Mickey rattled off at the mouth. Her nervous energy made her speak quicker and her voice, if possible, get much higher than it was before. She only stopped talking when the guard cleared his throat and she clamped her lips together to keep the barrage of words from falling out.

"Nice try getting away," the guard commented. "But you're not done yet. Throw on some gloves and a hairnet."

Mickey blinked rapidly, trying to figure out what he was getting at. It finally clicked and her mouth dropped like a trapdoor. "You…you want me to serve them too?"

"You're a quick one," the guard grunted. "Get to it!"

Mickey jumped at the forceful nature of his words and rushed to get the hairnet, gloves, and an apron that was laid out for her and the others that worked with her. She tucked her hair up into the net and then held the apron in front of her, trying to figure out how to put it on.

"Here, I can help," a voice said at the same time Mickey felt two large hands being to pull her jumpsuit off of her shoulders. She dropped the apron, reached back, and grabbed onto the wrists of the person behind her, digging her fingernails into the skin as her heart battered her chest.

"Get your hands off me," she hissed, doing her best to keep her voice from shaking.

"Relax," the boy said, lifting his fingers. "I'm not going to o anything. I just want to help."

"You can do that by not touching me."

"Alright, alright. But you have to give me my hands back."

Mickey slowly let go of the boy's hands and then whirled around. Of course it was the one that was staring at her that was now rubbing at his wrists, an amused sort of smile on his face. His eyebrows twitched and he snorted. "Remind me not to get on your bad side," he muttered. "All I was going to do was show you an easier way to deal with these jumpsuits."

"Well…do it from a distance!" Mickey ordered, looking him up and down as if she was expecting more hands to pop out from somewhere. He held up his hands, palms facing out, as if surrendering.

"Okay. See, all you do is slip your arms from the jumpsuit, roll down the back with the sleeves in your hand until it reaches about your lower back and then you tie it around the front," the boy said while demonstrating it.

Mickey's lips twitched. It would make things a little more bearable, not needing to wear the top part of the jumpsuit and it didn't seem to be against regulations. But then it put her on display, the last thing she wanted. She sighed. What would it be? Die of heat exhaustion or risk her modesty?

She wasn't a fool.

Mickey shrugged out of the jumpsuit and rolled down the back like she was taught. She pulled the sleeves tight and then tied them around her waist. It wasn't that much of a temperature difference between having the jumpsuit top up or down but she'd take all the difference she could get. She was sweating so much someone could probably mistake her for crying.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"No problem," he replied. "I'm Eagle. I'm in B-Tent, the one you were supposed to be assigned to." Mickey's eyebrow popped up at the name. "It's 'cause I came in wearing an American Eagle shirt."

"Ah," she muttered. "I'm Mickey."

"I would've guessed. Your voice got so high I think only dogs could hear it at one point."

"No…that's really my name. I was named after the baseball player. Mickey Mantle. My dad's a fan."

"That's enough bumping your gums," the guard barked. "Come on, get your things on, get the food, and get in your stations. Girlie, you're in charge of the beans. If I find a hair in it you'll be washing everything by hand. Understood?"

Mickey pressed her lips together to keep the sound of protest from leaving her mouth. Instead she nodded and hurried to put on her apron and her gloves. Her mother would have a cow if she could see her in an apron. Grunting softly, she managed to pick up the pot of beans and waddled over to the front of the Mess Hall. She managed to lift it up onto the small burner and turned it on, jumping at the loud pop! that sounded before a flame appeared beneath it.

Crossing her arms, she leaned back against the table behind her and waited for the boys to trickle in. She wanted to get the stares over with. She was diluted into thinking that she was so drop-dead gorgeous that she would gain everyone's attention with a snap of her fingers but who knew how long it's been since they had seen a girl, assuming some of them weren't into the male persuasion? And who knew if some of them were brought along because of violence towards girls?

She licked her lips. There was no sense in thinking about that. She had to focus on getting her job done and finish her sentence so she could go back home.

Only seventeen months and twenty-nine days left.

The door to the Mess Hall burst open and in trickled the boys, laughing and joking around about something. Mickey kept a tight grip on her ladle just in case she would need to use it. Most of the guys gave her double takes, a few threw winks her way, and there were a few comments here and there but they left her alone for the most part. In fact it was smooth sailing until the D-Tent boys burst into the Mess Hall, talking about cavemen and Neanderthals or something.

"Well well, if it isn't our new tent mate," X-Ray said with a big smile as he slid his tray across the metal queue. "That hairnet looks good on you." Mickey dumped a ladle full of baked beans onto his tray and went for another spoonful as Armpit came by. He smiled at her and thankfully didn't make a crack about her predicament. Magnet was the same. Zigzag looked at her as if he was expecting to find razor blades in his food. Stanley, although looking worn out, managed a smile. Zero said nothing as he went by.

"Look at this!" Squid hooted, holding his toothpick around his finger and thumb and used it to gesture at Mickey. "Aint this the prettiest kitchen princess I ever did see." Mickey's eyebrow popped up, his thick accent making the word "prettiest" come out as "purtiest". "That hairnet is very becoming."

"This ladle is going to become a part of your anatomy soon if you don't shut up!" Mickey growled, her grip tightening on the metal utensil in her hand.

"Don't you have a cake to bake?" Squid asked, a smirk stretching across his face. "See, it's cooking and serving all at once. You'll know your place soon enough."

Mickey tried counting to ten but her nerves were too far gone. She lifted the ladle over her head, trying to strike at him. He let go of his tray and lifted his arms, instantly going to protect his face. Al at once around them noise broke out. It was a bit disorienting. Mickey didn't even get a chance to bring the ladle down in full swing when the camper next to her grabbed her arm, warning her that it "wasn't worth it."

Mickey snorted. What else could they do to her? Give her more time?

"Is there a problem over here?" Mr. Pendanski asked, appearing out of nowhere. His voice was calm but his eyes were steely. He was a walking, talking contradiction.

Squid and Mickey regarded one another. His brown eyes were hard as he looked Mickey up and down, as if daring her to make a sound. Her eyes narrowed and she pressed her lips together. She was the first to tear her eyes away.

"No, Mr. Pendanski," she said the same time Squid muttered, "Nah, Mom."

"Good." An easygoing smile appeared on his face. He patted both of them on the shoulder. "Let's keep the line moving, Alan. No need to cause a traffic jam."

Squid tossed a glare Mickey's way. She held his gaze as she spooned up baked beans and tilted the ladle so it splattered against his tray. His lip twitched in the top corner and he replaced the toothpick in his mouth. He cut his eyes away and moved down the line. The rest of the dinner line was uneventful, thankfully. Maybe they weren't in the mood to deal with Pendanski or maybe they were too tired from digging to care that she was around. Either way she was happy to finally get the itchy net off of her head and the sweaty apron from around her waist.

Abandoning the pieces of fabric at the table behind her, Mickey made her way to the front door only to be blocked by yet another guard who stated that no one was to leave dinner before the bell and, if she knew what was good for her, she'd get her ass in line and quit trying to get special treatment.

As if.

She grabbed a tray and slowly moved down the line, getting the food that she had to watch be prepared. The bread was the only thing she knew was good and she already had her sights (and her stomach) set on it.

She carefully carried her food over to her designated table, of which Magnet flagged her down to, and sat on the end. It was a peculiar set up: X-Ray sat at the head of the table, like a father figure of sorts for the rag-tag bunch. To his right sat Armpit, Squid, and Zero, his left sat Zigzag, Magnet, and Stanley. Mickey took the empty space by Zero for spacing reasons. She couldn't ask Stanley to shift and make room for her. He probably couldn't offer much space anyway, even if he tried.

Dinner went by as she tried to ignore the boys' random table talk it started out about sports and then it changed to guessing what Barf Bag was doing. Mickey forced down the limp green beans and the stale creamed corn that clumped together on the way down. She was in the middle of the baked beans when it happened.

Squid, spluttering, shoved his tray away from him. His fork and knife were stuck in a peeled potato, partially split. Mickey didn't have to see the inside to know how rotten it was. The darkened inside had begun to stretch on the outside, leaving a gray splotch on the otherwise white exterior.

"Aww, man, that's foul," Magnet commented, his face screwing up in disgust.

"Even I wouldn't eat that, dude," Armpit said, frowning at the ruined vegetable as if it had personally offended him.

"Man, those Lunch Ladies are askin' for it, I tell ya that," Squid fumed, yanking his fork out of his potato. It landed back on the tray with a heavy thud. Snorts traveled up and down the table as they ate their food. Zero, as usual, stayed silent.

Mickey reached for her piece of bread when a hand snatched out and grabbed it. "Hey!" she yelped in protest, trying in a futile attempt to get it back. Squid flung out his arm, keeping her hands away. Zero leaned back to avoid being hit by Squid's arm. Mickey could only watch in dismay as Squid ate her bread.

"You got a problem?" X-Ray asked, staring hard at her. The silence that had fallen around the table was thick and stifling but Mickey forced herself to keep breathing.

Yeah, she had problems. The jumpsuit was too big, she smelled like a gym sock, she hadn't showered all day, people wouldn't stop looking at her, Pendanski wouldn't stop touching her, she was sure her period was coming soon and she didn't have her supplies on her, and she was stuck having to see Alan's, no, Squid's stupid face for the next year. But she wasn't stupid. She wasn't going to complain about that. No one would take her seriously. So, as usual, she kept her words quiet and short, "…No."

"Smart girl."

###

The water trickling over Mickey's head was much more soothing than she expected. She didn't have her shampoo to properly wash her hair but that was alright. She was in a rush. She was sure no one would be happy to know that she was using the water spigot of all things to get a shower in. but she wasn't going to risk peeping toms by standing under the showerhead. So, after dinner, she used water from the spigot and her towel to wash off the dirt, kind of like a sponge bath without the aid of a nurse and without taking off her clothes. It was a bit tricky but she managed.

Wringing out her damp hair, she trudged back to D-Tent. Even after the sun had gown down it was still warm out in the desert. It didn't take long for the beads of water that dripped down her body to dry up and for the wet patch on the back of her t-shirt to shrink.

Her arms were sore and stiff just from carrying pots and pans; she couldn't imagine having to dig on top of that tomorrow. She tried to push the harrowing thought out of her mind and focused on being able to sleep soon. She hadn't slept the day before her sentence and was almost running on empty. Even sitting down for a few minutes would be a reprieve.

She had one foot on the short set of stairs leading up to D-Tent when she heard a hissing sound. Her body immediately stiffened. Her eyes darted around to look for the snake. Her mouth fell open, ready to scream.

"Shush! Are you crazy?" Eagle hissed as she stepped out of the darkness. "Don't get your tent mates. I'm not exactly on good term with them. They'd kill me."

Mickey's muscles slowly eased and she put her leg down. Her heart beat hard against her chest as she regained her composure. "What are you doing here?" she hissed, jumping down.

"I saw what went down at dinner," he replied, digging into his pockets.

"Yeah, well, he had it coming."

"Not that." Eagle pulled his hands out of his pockets. Clutched in one palm was a piece of bread and in another a Twinkie. Mickey's eyes widened at the sight of the food. Eagle shrugged. "Being a Lunch Lady has its perks," he said, shoving the food into her hands. "You saw nothing. You know nothing. Wait until you're alone to eat this. Don't want anyone else lurking around."

Mickey nodded her head rapidly, shoving the food into her own pockets. "Thanks." Eagle nodded and slinked away. Mickey's mouth began to water at the idea of eating the sugary treat. She made sure to wipe her mouth before entering the tent.

"Thought you decided to move into the kitchen for a moment there," Magnet commented as she walked to the back of the tent and then sat down on the sleeping bag she was provided. There weren't enough cots to go around, Pendanski said, and they weren't going to move one from B-Tent over. There could be another vacancy, after all. But she doubted that. If there was another one she had a way to get back. "Took you that long to wash all the pots and pans?"

"Check her hands, bet they're all prune-y like raisins," Zigzag added from his cot. "Soft, delicate things."

"You won't last out there, diggin' holes with those."

"I give her an hour."

"Nah, won't even last then. Might break a nail," Squid added.

Mickey ignored the conversation going around her as best as she could. She couldn't deny that her jaw would ache later from how hard she was clenching her teeth. But she kept her head down and read the book she had grabbed from her crate. Well, it was actually a small cardboard box but she wasn't complaining. No one seemed to want to touch her stuff.

"Nah, I betcha she'll get it all done," X-Ray spoke up. Mickey looked up at him from beneath her bangs. The boys were looking at him as well. Even Zero. X-Ray smiled. "I bet she can handle it. She's small, yeah, but look at Zero? He's the first one done every time. She could be another Zero."

A chorus of "yeah right" and "naw, man" sounded as the boys waved him away. Stanley glanced over at Mickey. She shifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. A whistle sounded in the distance. The boys all got off their cots and headed towards the exit.

"Tent meeting, girl," X-Ray called over his shoulder.

"I'll be there in a second," Mickey replied, marking her page. The boys looked at her and she sighed while rolling her eyes. "I have to change! Get out!" They shook their heads and ambled away from the tent. She waited to hear their footsteps go away. They faded and melded in with the darkness outside of the tent. She reached into her pocket, pulled out the Twinkie, and took a large bite, smiling at the sweet taste that assaulted her tongue.

Never had a Twinkie tasted so good.

A/N: Well here's chapter two! I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks to Fact for the review. Please read and review!

~C.M.