Playing House

Who: Avery and Lily
Where: the theater
When: early afternoon

( How would he be able to survive this year if he spent the whole time hiding? )

Who: Connor and Lark
When: Late evening
Where: Lark’s room (third floor)

It had taken Lark an entire twenty-four hours to figure out why the locking doors had disturbed her so much. Rationally, she had always been able to look at the situation and see clearly that the scientists meant no harm by it – it was simply a means to an ends, and no one had gotten hurt. Still, something about it all hadn’t settled well within her. Today she had finally figured it out. Having someone else determine when she could and could not leave her room reminded her way too much of the homeless shelter – a place that represented the most miserable times of her life. She had come here for a better life, and she just couldn’t deal with this place reminding her of the shelter. So, despite the fact that Lark hated to take help from anyone, she had taken a complete stranger up on his offer. Which was quite possibly something he’d only suggested to be nice.

She’d spent a portion of the day trying to remember if she had met Connor at the party, but she was certain she hadn’t. That added slightly to her nerves. Still, she didn’t call it off. He’d put the idea in her head, and she found herself rather stuck on it. Removing her door might be jumping from one extreme to the next, but it didn’t have to be permanent . If he could show her how to do it, she could just take her door off when she went to bed, barricade herself in for safety, and put things back to rights in the morning. Once she adjusted here, she wouldn’t need to do it anymore. It was silly, but it would make her feel better. That wasn’t so bad. Right?

Nope, no matter how she tried to spin it, she still felt pretty stupid. Sighing in annoyance with herself, Lark grabbed her notebook and plopped back on her bed. Brooke and Bennie had given her several blank notebooks and made her promise to write every day. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t send the letters, they said, they’d read when she got back. Even if she didn’t have a lot to talk about yet, she found the act soothing. Even if they wouldn’t read it for a year, any way to connect to her far away siblings was a good thing.