Release Me

8

My hair is dripping wet, making it more difficult to braid.

"Good morning Tiger." Cindy barges into the room. "First up is your meeting with Dr. Jeffery," she announces.

"I wouldn't call it a meeting."

"Oh, whatever." She rolls her eyes, "Come on we can't be late. Chop, chop."

Sighing, I follow her out of the room.

...

"How have you been sleeping lately?"

I bite my lower lip, my eyes glued to the loose thread on Dr. Jeffery's crisp white blouse. "Um, good. I guess."

"Have you been having any dreams, or are your nights dreamless?"

"I-I." Honestly, I don't really remember. I look at him confused. Why can't I remember if I dream or not? I usually always do.

"Yes?"

"I can't remember."

He nods, scribbling something down on his DSS. "Please take your pill, Alice."

I obey just like I always do, by placing the green capsule into my mouth and swallowing it dry.

...

I find Summer sitting alone in her corner.

"Hey," I say.

She looks at me with bloodshot eyes. "Uh hi."

"What's wrong?" I take in her face. Large bags are darkening her eyes, her skin is paler than usual—-practically translucent, and her lips are a purple-blueish color. She looks like death.

"Nothing," she replies, sucking in her cheeks.

"Please, be honest with me."

She begins to push around the food on her plate. "I am."

"Have you been getting any sleep lately?"

"Uh," she pauses, bewilderment crossing her face, "I don't remember."

I stare at her, my mouth dropping open. She doesn't remember too. That's odd.

"Is everything all right?"

I shake my head to clear my mind. "Yeah, just fine." Smiling weakly, I take a spoonful of my chocolate pudding.

...

"You seem to be quiet today."

My eyes focus on Derek. "Just thinking."

"About what?" He's smirking.

"None of your business. So what's on the agenda for the day?" I ask, tightening my pony.

"First we need to go to my room to pick up something."

"Okkkkaaayyy."

I trail after him out of the room.

So yes, I have been wondering if Derek slept here, or if he went home every night. Now I know. And surprisingly his bedroom is right down the hall from mine.

He pushes the door open and steps inside. I remain in the doorway, taking in his room.

1. The bed is unmade like he was in a rush this morning.

2. His shoes are neatly lined up against the wall.

3. The room smells like him, which is a combination of aftershave and old spice shampoo.

4. The closet door is open, revealing neatly hanging pants and shirts.

5. On the nightstand stacked are books, which are rare.

"Nice room," I comment.

"Thanks. Sorry about the mess."

I laugh. "Mess? Seriously you seem to be a neat freak to me."

"If you say so." He walks over to the nightstand, opens it up, and removes a bracelet of some sort. "Give me your wrist."

"Why?"

"This is a heart monitor. It will show us your pulse after this exercise routine."

"Oh." I place my hand out and he slips the bracelet onto my wrist.

"You ready to move those legs of yours?" His dark eyes sparkle.

"Me? Ha!"

"Too bad then." He's already off, running past me and down the hallway.

"Hey! Wait up," I cry, closing his bedroom door and then running to catch up to him.

...

Heart pounding wildly, I double over panting for breath.

"You okay?"

"I believe so."

Derek hands me a water bottle and I gulp it down happily.

"Thanks." I smile, wiping my mouth with my sleeve.

He checks my bracelet. "Your pulse is steady. Do you want to continue, or stop for the day?"

"Hmm, I'll race you around the gym one more time."

"You're on."

I'm already running, pumping my arms and legs, picturing Hunter here beside me.

We used to go jogging together after dinner when the sun was setting, with crisp cool air to keep us from getting too sweaty. I miss those days. I miss Hunter.

My eyes begin to water and I quickly blink the tears away, running harder.

...

My heart is still racing from all the running earlier as I scribble on my DSS- boring, boring, boring, boring... Going out of my mind. OUCH.

A tight squeeze takes hold of my heart, causing me to drop my stylus. I watch it roll across the wood-chipped desk.

"Alice, is everything alright?" Mr. Rosenbaum asks concerned.

"I, um." There's another squeeze making me cry out.

Noah is by my side within seconds. "Alice," he says, "Are you okay?"

The entire room is spinning, and my insides feel like they're on fire. "I'm so sick of being sick," I whisper, "And no I'm not okay."

"Yeah, I know how you feel," Noah says, helping me out of my chair. "I'm going to take her to Miss Jakins," he tells Mr. Rosenbaum, before shepherding me out of the classroom.