Street Girl

45 | lucy

Only, he hasn't texted back.

Alecia walks out of the bathroom and runs a brush through her silky black hair. "Hey, sleepy head. You're up."

"Yeah," I say, looking at my phone.

"What's up?"

"Just waiting for Elliot to text me back."

She sits on the couch as Brett walks out. When his eyes fall on me, he leans against the archway to the room.

"Hey, Luce. How you feeling?"

I give him a small smile. "Okay, thanks."

They both saw me storm in last night and pathetically cry myself to sleep, but Brett and Alecia don't judge me. They never do.

They go back to doing their thing, and I bite on my thumb as I check my phone repeatedly. Still no response. I can't take it anymore, so I call him. He doesn't pick up. As I'm about to put the phone down, it buzzes. Elliot's name on the screen fills me with hope.

"El?"

"Lucy?"

My stomach sinks. That isn't Elliot's voice.

"Elizabeth?"

"Yes, it's me. Are you busy?"

"No... where's Elliot?"

There is a long, long pause, before she finally says: "Elliot is in the hospital, Lucy. I think you should come visit."

"Why? What happened? Is he okay?"

"No, not really. Will you come in, please?"

I don't have time to think. I hang up the phone and rush out of the apartment.

* * *

The psychiatric ward has a sterile smell. As I hurry down the long, brightly lit hallway, it's all I can think about. Pills, drugs, and mental illness.

Elliot Wexler is a lot of things. Bipolar is one of them. Last night, when I left; oh God, how could I leave him like that? How could I not think about the fact that he's been suicidal before?

Did he know he was going to hurt himself if I left? Was he scared? My blood is cold and tears singe my eyes. I cover my mouth to repress a sob and rush down the hall, zipping around another corner.

Oh, Elliot, I'm so sorry. I didn't think.

Elizabeth stands by a waiting room filled with blue plastic chairs. Adam is nearby with his arms crossed.

"Hi," I say, breathless.

Adam doesn't look. He must hate me for what I've done to his family. I can't say I blame him. Elizabeth's face is sullen and grey; she doesn't smile at me, and there's no warmth left for me in her eyes. It breaks my heart, but I can't blame her, either.

"What happened?" I ask.

"Would you mind talking to one of the doctors about El?" Elizabeth says, her cold shoulder toward me.

"Of course..."

Still not looking at me, Elizabeth knocks on one of the doors. I'm expecting a lab coat, but a woman with a black and yellow patterned dress and bright red lipstick opens the door. Her smile radiates the warmth of the sun. I can't explain why, but I'm immediately calmed by her. Her name tag reads Dr. Balewa.

"Ah, hello there," she says. I recognize her voice from the last time we were here; smooth and relaxing, like a soft saxophone.

I clasp my hands. "Hi."