"Me, neither," John says firmly. It's not that he wants to go back to that flat, but staying here feels wrong, too. They don't belong here. And if it was normal for children new to Darrow to end up here, Mr. Keane would've said so from the beginning, he thinks. Maybe. "If we were supposed to stay here," he ventures aloud, so Martin will hear, "you'd think Mr. Keane would've just told us, instead of—of pretending it's something he's making up as he goes."
Unless he thinks honesty would scare them. But that's not fair, either. If they've really been kidnapped by a whole city, they deserve to know what's going on.
John does up the zipper of the hoodie he'd chosen, then steps out of the stall. Martin's already waiting, and John moves to wash his hands as well as he mulls over Martin's question. "Maybe," he says, "if we ask the right way." They've both been scared, and they both still are, but he knows that you can get further, sometimes, by hiding it and not showing it. If all Mr. Keane wants to do is calm them down, of course he's going to say whatever nonsense he thinks might help.
John dries his hands, then turns to face Martin. "Look. We just have to act like we're not scared. Otherwise, he'll just try to make us feel better. Even if that means lying. Okay?" He's never really done something like this before — schemed with someone else his own age — and after an uncertain beat, he sets his jaw and holds out his hand, like they're two grown-ups making a deal.
no subject
Unless he thinks honesty would scare them. But that's not fair, either. If they've really been kidnapped by a whole city, they deserve to know what's going on.
John does up the zipper of the hoodie he'd chosen, then steps out of the stall. Martin's already waiting, and John moves to wash his hands as well as he mulls over Martin's question. "Maybe," he says, "if we ask the right way." They've both been scared, and they both still are, but he knows that you can get further, sometimes, by hiding it and not showing it. If all Mr. Keane wants to do is calm them down, of course he's going to say whatever nonsense he thinks might help.
John dries his hands, then turns to face Martin. "Look. We just have to act like we're not scared. Otherwise, he'll just try to make us feel better. Even if that means lying. Okay?" He's never really done something like this before — schemed with someone else his own age — and after an uncertain beat, he sets his jaw and holds out his hand, like they're two grown-ups making a deal.