rush//5SOS

11

Michael was shocked as he stepped into the girl's room, the smell still prominent.

"That is one hell of a smell," he laughed, smiling at the girl. Unlike Ashton described her as, she seemed timid and quiet.

Although, he had warned him about her mood change today.

"Shall I open your window?"

"I'm not allowed,"

"But I'm here, so it's ok. I'm gonna get someone to clean this all up when you meet the others,"

"Do I smell too?" she wondered, feeling belittled by this new man. With Ashton, she knew where she stood but this morning she felt slightly sick.

What if the boys judged her? For her past... Ashton made her realise it wasn't good and he didn't have to do much. This was her only shot.

"I don't know, perhaps before we go you should change and brush your teeth," he suggested, trying to make the girl feel comfortable, "you're not as loud as I imagined,"

"I feel sick,"

"Like an anxious sick?"

"Yeah. I don't want to blow it,"

"Luke gets like that too, and Calum. We all do when it's something important. He is really eager to meet you though, so don't stress about impressing him,"

"I don't want them to judge me," she admitted, already liking Michael. Perhaps she just liked the different company but whatever it was, she enjoyed it.

"They're not in any place to judge you. Each of us have our own background stories and unfortunately Luke caught a glimpse of that. I promise you, neither of the boys have been put off by it. May I ask, if you're so ashamed, what made you carry on?"

He knew he'd taken a leap forward, and it was a risky question, but this could be vital information.

Yet it felt so wrong to be getting information from her when she was missing a whole night in her memory.

Luke and him were taking a walk around the place that afternoon because he was anxious for Calum's new medicine. He wanted to get him out the room. However, they walked through the hospital they passed Freya being brought in.

Overdose.

And it was strange to him that she didn't remember. The hospital had treated her but obviously her dad had sent her straight here as soon as she was well enough. As in, they'd finished the treatment and had her under observation.

It intrigued him how she had no idea she did it, and that she still hadn't realised that was why she was here.

Or why she did it. Or if she was even trying.

"Did you have many friends at home?" he pushed.

"Yes," she answered immediately, then she thought about it. How many were actually her friend?

"You seem to be questioning that answer,"

"I don't know how many were trustworthy, or had good intentions,"

"In what way?"

"It's kinda foggy," she mumbled, scratching her arm through her sleeves. It frustrated her that she couldn't remember, Michael having to push her hands down.

"Was it always 'one more drink won't hurt?'.How about the night you got here?"

"I don't understand why I'm here, because dad wouldn't have known I was depressed,"

"He could've,"

"He wouldn't. He's not at home to know,"

"Ok, there's just some things that even I don't understand,"

Again, he noticed the panic in her face as she held her wrists.

"Are you struggling without it today?"

"So much," the girl said, her voice strained as she squeezed her body as tight as she could. It hurt her.

"Ok, let all the tension out. Now tell yourself that you don't need the substance, it's a want. You can survive without it,"

"That's not gonna work. I want to go home,"

"You know that can't happen sweetheart,"

He could see tears forming in her eyes, and he felt incredibly sympathetic. This girl was 17, and had a long way to go.