Kindling
Copyright© 2025 by Gibigabi
Chapter 3
Every day, the inmates had 45 minutes of yard time. It was state law— mandated. The yard was a small, sad block of wilted grass and concrete. There was a basketball hoop, a picnic table always filled with women in jumpsuits playing cards, and a solitary pull-up bar. Gabriela spent her time keeping active. Or trying to, in any case. She moved in a pattern: pull-ups, pushups, squats. There wasn’t a squat rack, so she had to be creative. She was through her third set of pistol sets when she noticed the men on the other side of the yard.
She only realized she was staring when Laila crouched by her side. “Our times usually don’t overlap. Someone must’ve fucked the schedule.”
Gabriela watched as the men filed in. They were in a line, jumpsuits on, scarred hands by their sides. “There’s a lot of them. More than women here, I mean.”
“Hah! No kidding. What, are you getting lonely? Hey, there’s some pretty cute guys over there.”
Gabriela’s lips quirked up. “I don’t know. Tall, dark, and criminal isn’t really my type.”
One of the men looked over. He was light skinned with hazel eyes and curly hair. He smiled at Laila and she giggled, lifting her hand to give a shy wave back. “Well, suit yourself, girl. Some of us take what we can get.”
Gabriela laughed, stretching her arms over her head, “I’m not that desperate yet.”
A noise came, then, from the men’s side of the fence. Yelling, then a crack, the sound of metal against skull. Break it up! Break it up, fellas! A group of inmates clustered around the site of the commotion, and one of them was shouting and clutching his arm. “What do you mean, provoke? I didn’t do nothing! That kid is fucking psycho, man, you got that? He just came at me, biting and shit!”
Gabriela was hardly surprised to see the figure on the ground. He was small, wiry, with a mass of dark hair that almost entirely covered the pale face beneath. Damn, she thought to herself. No points for guessing who that is.
The young man stood up, slowly, rubbing his head. There was a red mark already blooming over the side of his face. He turned to the guard, voice petulant. “You didn’t have to hit me. I was gonna cooperate.”
The guard snorted, “Right after you tore his arm off, you mean? Let’s go, Drake, back to your corner.”
Drake. That was his name, then. Gabriela watched him as he trudged off to the corner of the yard. He sat on the ground with his knees pulled into his chest like a child. The man he had attacked was gesturing to the other inmates, saying probably less-than-flattering things about the boy in the corner.
“—My last boyfriend was so uptight, you know? He was a business major. He did do cocaine, sometimes, but only ‘cause his friends liked it— Gabi? Gabi, are you even listening?”
Gabriela blinked, smearing her hand over her face. Jesus. She needed to stop getting distracted— it wasn’t like her. “God, I’m sorry. I really am. I don’t know— I didn’t sleep very well. I’ve been zoning out all day.”
Laila’s eyes flicked to Gabriela, then Drake, then back again. “Suure. Nothing to do with Mr. Crazy, huh?”
“Well, I wanted to see what was going on, I guess. Seemed like something bad was happening over there.”
Laila rolled her eyes. “There’s always something bad happening with the guys. And it’s usually Drake in the middle of it. Like, it’s not entirely his fault, you know? Because it’s not like they don’t try shit with him. But he’s got, like, serious anger issues. It’s freaky.”
“Freaky. And the guards always hit him in the head with their batons? That’s normal?”
Laila blinked, eyes wide. “Normal? Babe, with that kid it’s not about normal. Did you see him? He got whacked in the skull and popped up right after! Like a ... cockroach or something.”
“Cockroach, right.”
Laila squinted her eyes. “Well, I’m going to, uh, check in with the other girls before rec time’s up.” She turned to leave before giving Gabriela a soft, sad smile, “Take care of yourself, alright?”
Gabriela smiled back, “Yeah. Don’t worry.” She raised her hand in a brief wave, shoved her hands in her pockets. They still had fifteen minutes. Enough time for another set of pistol squats, maybe some half-assed pushups.
Despite herself, her eyes drifted not a minute later to the other side of the fence. This time, they met pale blue. Drake was sitting there, alert now, and grinning right at her.
His smile wasn’t what she had expected. It was a cherub’s smile, wide and dimpled at the edges. His teeth were small and white, like he’d never lost his baby teeth. There was something in the eyes, though— that flat, cool emptiness which never seemed to leave them— which gave her goosebumps.
He got to his face, swaying slightly, and made his way to the edge of the fence. His mouth was moving, and she had to take a few steps forward to hear him at all. “ —Psst! Tall girl! Come closer, c’mon, just a little.”
This was a bad idea. Gabriela knew it was a bad idea. He probably had a knife. Or a shiv. He was probably going to shank her or some shit if she got any closer.
She stepped forward. “What is it? You’re not supposed to be talking to me, you know.”
He laughed, held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, ma’am. Can I call you that? It’s just that, well, I’ve never really been into rules.” He stared at her for a second, pale eyes wide. His hands were nearly white against the wire fence from how hard he was gripping it. “Just a little more?”
Gabriela took another step. She must’ve completely lost her marbles. Realistically, she probably lost them when she decided to put a bomb in Richard Brian’s house, and this was just the fallout. Well, she could probably take this kid, in any case. He looked about 115 pounds soaking wet, even if he was a biter and a criminal.
One moment, she was looking down at him. The next, his lips were against hers. They were dry, that was the first thing she noticed. Full for a man, but dry and chapped, peeling around the edges. His small hands were fisted in her shirt, just the right size to fit through the wire mesh of the fence. She opened her eyes to see his face pressed against it, all scrunched up, wires making indents in his cheeks. She could have pulled away, that was the thing. She was going to, even. But before she had the chance he was making little gasping noises and his tongue was in her throat. She could feel his tongue piercing— were piercings even allowed in this place? — probing inside her mouth.
For a moment, she kissed back. The next, she was being pulled bodily away by a large guard. Another had his arms wrapped around Drake. “Off! Get off! What the fuck is wrong with you two?!”
Gabriela rubbed her forehead, a little dazed. The guard raised a thick brow at her. “Jesus. I expected this kind of behavior from Drake, but I thought you’d be smarter.”
Drake was being led away by the guard now, the man’s hand on his neck. He turned around and mouthed to Gabriela. Call me.