a different cell. He didn’t mention the rapes, only his cellmate’s attempt to choke him. The officers allowed John to grab his few possessions and move down the hall, closer to their station. His new cellmate was not a predator, but by then John had been tagged as easy prey. Two days after he was moved, another prisoner cornered him in his cell and raped him. It seemed like other prisoners had figured out his schedule—when he would be alone in his cell, or in the shower. He was called a “fuckboy,” a term for the men who are “gay for pay,” trading sex for food or other favors, even though John said he never did. John says he resisted, but he knew that if he was caughtnot investigate John’s allegations. Instead, they moved John across the street to Bellamy Creek Correctional Facility, which has a large “protective custody” unit. The transfer paperwork refers to John as a “homosexual who is being pressed by other inmates,” though he never declared himself to be gay. As he celebrated his 18th birthday, John’s new placement in protective custody meant that he no longer faced constant attacks. But there were trade-offs; now he would work in sanitation and laundry. He was not allowed to take rehabilitative classes with names like “Cage Your Rage” and “Thinking for a Change” that would improve his chances of parole. Recreation was minimal; he technically got an hour of gym a week, but when the designated hour conflicted with his laundry shift, he