“And blonde,” Layne said with a huff. “And talks to herself.” So she caught that too. Or maybe she knew more about Harlow’s diagnosis than I did. We’d all know soon enough. There were few secrets between us at this point. Group therapy made sure of that.
“Dr. Bradley wants us to do an introductory group therapy session,” Nurse Drew called out. “Meet in the common room in ten minutes. We’ll do it before hitting the dining hall.”
“We eat with other floors?” Harlow asked. “How many patients are here?”
“Too many to count,” I said honestly. “It’s like your typical school cafeteria just with orderlies walking around the tables. Fights break out often. Food flies around the room sometimes. There’s at least one outburst per meal.”
“It’s all fun, clearly.” Crew grinned. “Free entertainment.”
Harlow abruptly turned her head. There was no one on her other side, but from the low growl she let out, she wasn’t happy.
“Fuck. Off. I don’t want you here.” There was a tremble in her voice that had me curling my hands into fists so that I wouldn’t reach out to comfort her.
Not everyone liked to be touched.
Me? I longed for it.
When Harlow turned back around, we were all staring at her, and her cheeks tinted pink. I liked when she blushed, it made her seem more vulnerable. Not so hard to talk to. Maybe it would help me not be a hermit in my room.
“Have you had your intake for the classes yet?” I asked her so she wouldn’t dwell on her random conversation with the unseen. Though, I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t dying to know what she did see. Or maybe who.
“No,” she said. “Aren’t they all basics? I assumed a place like this didn’t give full degrees.”
“Wrong,” Layne said rudely, pushing her hair back over her shoulder. Harlow raised her eyebrows at her sudden change in mood, whereas the rest of us didn’t even flinch. She’d learn soon enough. “I’ve got my associates and moved onto classes for accounting.”
“Accounting?” It was the first smile from Harlow, and she tried to hide it with a cough, but Layne noticed. It was brief, only a half smile, honestly, but it did light up her face for the briefest of moments. It took everything in me to force myself to look away rather than being a complete creep and intently watching her.
“Yes, and not the kind that involves shaking my ass on a webcam smartass,” she bit out. “Numbers are my thing. They never change, never talk back. And I won’t have to deal with people.”
Harlow nodded then. “I can understand that sentiment. But I’m terrible at math.”
“We can help. We study together every night after free time and before bed,” Crew told her. “Get ready to spend an obnoxious amount of time together.”
“I’m gathering that,” she said. She twists her fingers in the sleeve of her shirt.
That must be her nervous tic. Or one of them.
Reading people was my specialty, and I could gauge all their moods fairly quickly. Dr. Bradley said it was a trauma response. Keeping myself safe from the verbal assaults I’d endured as a kid. Roman’s existence was proof that I clearly hadn’t worked through it yet.
“Rock, paper, scissors on who gets to tell Drake?” Crew asked, holding up his palm and a fist. Layne simply turned and sauntered back to the common room.
“I’m not going,” Harlow said with a snort, following Layne.
“That leaves you, Hiro,” Crew said, losing all hints of his usually teasing smile. His fingers were tapping his leg again as he waited for me to fight him. But that wasn’t my style, and he knew it. At my prolonged silence he tapped faster and chewed on his lip. His umber skin was starting to glisten with nervous sweat. “He’s nicest to you.”
Drakewasnicest to me. But that didn’t mean he was nice. Or pleasant. He’d brought Roman out of me more than once.
“Fine,” I said with a sigh. The last thing I wanted to be was responsible for someone’s panic attack. I’d had enough to not wish those on anyone.
Crew gave me a pat on the shoulder before walking off. I watched him hurry away until he’d reached the end of the hall, only then turning to look at me.
With a shaky breath, I turned and moved down the hall, breathing evenly to keep myself from freaking out. Before I knew it, my string was in my hand, twisting between my fingers and giving me a way to ground myself.
I’d barely knocked before the door was ripped open. Drake was terrifying, staring down at me with a deadly calm that had me questioning all my life choices. Something about him felt different from anyone else. He wasn’t just quick to bite out his words and snap at the easiest moments, an evil seemed to lurk just under the surface. And if you were unlucky enough to draw him out, you’d be lucky to get out with your life.
I had a feeling that many didn’t.
He was the only one who rarely shared in group. Though what he shared on occasion was enough to make you want to cover your ears and run. Trauma wasn’t a competition, we all carried it differently, but if it was... he’d win.