Privilege (Privilege 1)

As Kaitlynn spoke, she slipped smoothly into her Texan drawl.

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The accent always became more pronounced when Kaitlynn spoke about home, and especially about Briana Leigh. Ariana had noticed it on her very first day at the Brenda T. but had never pointed it out to Kaitlynn, lest her friend become self-conscious of the quirk. Ariana's Southern accent worked in much the same way. There were many people at Easton Academy who had never even realized she was from the South, but when she talked about her mother or her childhood--which was rare--the twangs and "y'alls" came right out without her even realizing it. Ariana also consciously threw them in when she needed something. Over the years she had found that when playing the damsel-in-distress card, it was more effective when that damsel was a Southern belle. As if women from the North were so much stronger and more capable. Right.

"Kaitlynn, you must stop obsessing about Briana Leigh," Ariana said as she removed her club sandwich from the paper bag. She smoothed the bag out on the table as a place mat, making sure all the corners were flattened, then set the sandwich down and carefully removed the wax paper, which she folded into a neat square. Kaitlynn automatically produced a large stack of napkins from the waistband of her state-issue jeans--cheap, light-wash, and made pocket-free in order to prevent the inmates from hiding contraband--and gave one to Ariana, who wiped each of her fingertips, one by one. "Obsession is unhealthy," she added.

Kaitlynn raised an eyebrow at Ariana's perfectly folded wax paper but stayed mum.

Rambo's barking had subsided into a constant snarl now that Crazy

18

Cathy wasn't rattling the fence and ranting at him. Ariana's shoulder muscles relaxed slightly, and she removed the bread from the top of her sandwich.

"I know I shouldn't think about Briana Leigh," Kaitlynn said, opening her own lunch bag. "But how am I supposed to stop? It's all wasted on her. All of it. The freedom, the cash, the life."

She dropped her head in her hands, the tips of her hair grazing the coarse grain of the picnic table surface. The only time Kaitlynn ever grew despondent was when she was talking about Briana Leigh Covington. Even over the past couple of grueling weeks as Kaitlynn had tried to find a lawyer who would appeal her case and failed (now that she had no money, attorneys weren't quite so interested in her), she had somehow stayed bright-eyed and peppy. But as she watched Kaitlynn now, Ariana's heart skipped a beat in sympathy. She took a break from her meal preparations and cleared her throat. Rambo started to bark feverishly again. He was getting closer to their table, but was separated as always by that horrible fence.

"Kaitlynn," Ariana said firmly. "Kaitlynn, look at me."

Her friend glanced up, already chagrined.

"Everything is going to be okay," Ariana told her. "One day, we are going to get out of here. And when we do, I promise you, you are going to get your revenge."

A warmth spread throughout Ariana's chest. A warmth of pride. Of strength. A warmth she clung to. It set her apart from the other inmates--the pathetic, the insane, the hopeless. It was going to set her free. Her and Kaitlynn. Because Kaitlynn clearly did not have

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the tools to free herself. She needed Ariana. And Ariana liked to be needed. To help those weaker than herse

lf. To be the strong one.

Kaitlynn blushed and looked down again, tracing a knot in the wood with her fingertip. "I hate it when you say 'revenge.' It sounds so... medieval. I could never actually hurt anyone. Not even her."

Sometimes Kaitlynn amazed Ariana. How could anyone go through what she had gone through and not come out the other side just a little bit hardened? She reminded Ariana of the way she used to be, before Thomas. Before that Christmas at Easton. Before all the death and disappointment and heartbreak.

Tears stung Ariana's eyes at the thought of the girl she used to be. The girl she had been with Thomas. Stung at the memory of Thomas's playful smile, his searching blue eyes, his rough hands. But she quickly blinked them away.

"I know," Ariana said finally, placing the two halves of the wheat bread down on a napkin. Rambo was going berserk again now, his bark so close it felt like it was coming from inside Ariana's brain. "That's why I'm going to be there to help you."

Kaitlynn smirked, amused, as though there was no way either one of them would ever get out of the Brenda T., let alone both of them. Ariana bit her tongue.

You think I can't make it happen? she thought. Just wait.

"What would you do if you had Briana Leigh's money?" Kaitlynn asked, leaning her chin on her hand.

"Go to any school I wanted," Ariana said automatically.

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"Really? With that kind of money you'd never have to see the inside of a classroom again," Kaitlynn said with a laugh.

Ariana shrugged. "I know. But I like school. I wish I could have finished."

She swallowed a lump in her throat as her thoughts turned to Easton Academy again. She'd been so close to graduation. Only one semester left. And she would have graduated with honors. Maybe even won firsts over Noelle again those last two quarters, what with Taylor gone from campus and unable to do Noelle's work for her. What a waste. What a supreme waste it all was.

But you're going to fix it, she reminded herself. You're going to fix it as soon as you can.