Sleeping in the same bed as Caleb is torture. He loudly rolls over every five minutes, he chews and snores in his sleep and he tries to steal my blanket two times because having one blanket isn't enough for him apparently.
So naturally, I wake up the opposite of refreshed in the morning.
We have to be at the clinic at 9, so I set my alarm for 6.
I groan and stand up, letting Caleb sleep a little longer.
I get ready in the bathroom and check my phone while I brush my teeth. Austin already texted me a morning text, wishing me a great day and good luck for the clinic stay. He's so thoughtful. I miss him already. I didn't even get to say goodbye personally.
After I'm dressed I finish packing my suitcase and then carry that heavy ass shit downstairs.
"Morning." Dad greets me sleepily. He's sitting by the table, sipping on a coffee, looking like he didn't sleep at all, which probably is exactly what happened.
"When did you get home from work?" I ask him as I sit down next to him.
"One hour ago." He tells me and yawns.
"Maybe Caleb can drive me instead?" I suggest. I don't want him to drive around for four hours after a sleepless night shift.
"I slept for three hours, don't worry." He says.
Oh, well, I guess we got the same amount of sleep after all. But I slept for five hours yesterday afternoon, so I did get a lot of sleep in sum. But it sure doesn't feel like it.
"When are we leaving?" I ask him hesitantly.
He rubs his eyes. "In twenty minutes." He tells me.
I nod and pull out my phone to pass the time since I don't have anything to do. I wish I could see Austin one more time, but I know that visitor hours start at 8 and I don't wanna be a burden.
I sigh and text Austin back, telling him about being nervous and how I'm gonna miss him.
"Most people eat breakfast in the morning, you know?" Dad says.
"I'm not really hungry." I say, while keeping my focus on my phone.
He sighs. "You do know that not eating anything can make you depressed, right?" He says.
"Good thing I ate yesterday evening." I say while I type a text for Austin.
Dad sighs frustratedly, but doesn't annoy me with anything else and instead leaves the kitchen.
How could I eat now? The nervousness in my body makes me feel nauseous and jumpy. It's this feeling I can't really describe. I used to get the same feeling whenever we went on holiday and left the house early in the morning. It's a really unpleasant feeling. And the excitement I felt back then is also missing this time, replaced by pure dread.
What's it gonna be like? I'm gonna be there for a month. Will I have friends? Will I spend everyday with stupid therapy sessions? Can I keep my phone and talk to Austin?
I haven't even told Carla and Harry how long I'm gonna be gone yet. Since Carla said it takes over an hour for her to get ready in the morning I'm pretty sure she is already up.
I decide to give her a call since I ignored her the past few days.
"Good morning Sammy, are you alright?" She asks me.
"Morning. Uhm, yeah. I guess." I tell her.
"Excited for today?" She asks me.
"Caleb told you I'll be away for a while?" I ask her.
"Yup. He said you're doing a real drug rehab with no cheating." She says.
I lean my head against my hand and sigh. "Yeah. Looks like it."
"You must be nervous." She says.
"Yeah. I'm scared." I tell her. "I don't wanna go."
"Don't worry. We'll come visit you. I already looked up the route and everything." She tells me excitedly.
"Ugh. Thanks." I say unsure. "Everyone's gonna be talking about it again, right?" I ask her.
"Well, Austin and you have been missing for a while now, I think everyone's used to you being gone by now." She says. "But if someone asks me where you are I'm gonna be honest, alright? We don't wanna create ridiculous rumours like you tried to kill someone and went to jail."
I start laughing. "Who could ever believe a stupid rumour like that?" I ask her jokingly.
"I'm gonna miss you so much. I wish I could come cuddle you. It's not fair that I don't get to see you before you leave." She says.
"Yeah. It sucks." I agree.
"How do you feel? Are you ready to actually change?" She asks me.
I let out a chuckle. "Not really. I'm just annoyed."
I can hear her sigh. "You're so stubborn."
"I know. I know. I'm trying to take this chance to change, alright?" I assure her.
"Austin's really worried about you." Carla says.
"Yeah. I know." I say. "I did some dumb things."
"You know, Austin said he wants to take this chance to finally get better. I really hope you can get just as motivated." She says.
I've been waiting for the moment where I suddenly realize that I risked my life and that I'd regret everything. But the moment still hasn't come. I can't seem to be shocked or regretful or grateful or anything. I feel stupid for it, but not exactly regretful. It feels like I can't change where my life is going anyways. Like it's all just gonna lead to my demise anyway, no matter what I try.
So, no, I'm not motivated to change who I am. I feel motivated for nothing.
I guess this is just the after effect of the drugs, making me think like this. I'm glad I didn't die for my family and friends' sake. I can't seem to be happy about it. I'm not sad about it either, I'm feeling nothing special about it.
But I guess I still haven't lost all my hope. I know this is just a normal physical reaction to the drugs. No serotonin working right now. Feeling depressed and hopeless. In a day or two I'm gonna be myself again. Then I can second guess if maybe the drug rehab is really what I need right now.
"Sammy. Hello?" Carla says.
I spaced out a little too long again. "Uh. Yeah, motivated. Yeah, I'll be motivated." I mumble.
"Sammy. I love you. We all love you and we can't wait to have you back drug free." She tells me.
I take a deep breath. "Yeah. I can't wait for that." I tell her. "Uhm, I should get ready now, I still have to talk to mom and Caleb."
"Alright. Take care of you, okay?" She says.
"Yup. Keep me up to date on the school drama." I beg her. "The important stuff."
"Oh, like how Adam is now trying to win Harry's heart and Harry is really confused and in bi panic?" She asks me.
I chuckle. "Wait, what? Harry is confused? About his sexuality or what?" I ask her excitedly.
"A little." She says, giggling.
"Wait, do you think they could become a couple?" I ask her. I kinda wanna see that.
"I don't know. Harry is still like 90 percent sure he's romantically straight." She says.
I snort. "Well, 90 is not 100."
"Indeed. But I don't know what to think of this. It's Adam after all." She says.
"Yeah. It's Adam." I repeat, thinking about him. I like Adam. I hate him, too. He helped me yesterday. He was there with Harry and they both searched for me and made sure I'm fine.
It doesn't change the fact that he treated me like shit and let Marcus hit me.
"I always knew Harry isn't completely straight. Queer is written all over his face." Carla claims.
I laugh loudly. "Don't lie. You were completely oblivious to Harry hooking up with Adam and you didn't even believe me." I say.
"Yeah, okay, but just because it's Adam." She says. "I didn't expect him to be gay."
I start laughing. "Well, keep me updated please." I say. "But seriously, spare me the boring gossip."
"Will do." Carla assures me. "I could also send you letters. That would be kinda cool."
"Carla. Please don't write letters. If you wanna go old school, write me an email." I suggest.
"Alright, alright. Have a good day. Take care." She says.
"Yeah. Have fun at school. See you." I say and then hang up.
"Finally." Mom says as she comes into the kitchen with a smile.
"Oh god. You listened to everything, right?" I ask her as I spot her excited smile she always wears when she hears teenage drama.
"Harry is confused about his sexuality?" She asks me.
I roll my eyes. "Mom, keep out of my friends' business."
"Harry and Adam, huh?" She asks me with a smirk.
God. She really loves gossip.
"This isn't your business, mom!" I tell her.
"Alright. Alright." She says. "You know, I kinda got gay vibes from Harry." She says and flicks her hand in the 'gay way'.
I hide my face behind my hands. "Mom, stop using phrases like 'gay vibes'." I plead. "It's creepy when adults try to fit in."
She scoffs. "I get along great with people your age, they never say I'm creepy."
I roll my eyes. "Whatever. Just don't go around saying Harry is gay." I say.
"Harry is gay?" Caleb asks as he walks in.
"See? That's how rumours start." I say.
"But that's your fault." She says, chuckling.
"Hello? I asked a question." Caleb tries to get our attention.
"Harry is not gay." I tell him.
"Maybe a little bit." Mom adds.
"Oh. Okay. That's not really new, is it?" Caleb asks.
Mom nods. "Yeah, we all suspected it."
I groan. "Stop assuming everyone's sexuality." I argue annoyed.
"Well, we were right about you, too." Caleb says and mom nods.
"Oh wow, I'm suddenly so motivated to leave this home for a month." I say. "Dad? Ready to leave?" I shout.
"Oh, come on." Mom says and hugs me. "We're just teasing you."
I feel a blush on my cheeks. This is so annoying.
"I still don't know your sexual preference, though." Mom says, looking at Caleb.
He smiles. "Right. I'm an open book. Ask away."
Mom brings her hand to her chin, thinking about it. "Considering Carla is transgender-"
I've heard enough and quickly stand up. "Dad?" I shout and leave the kitchen. "Time to bring your son to the mental hospital."
I love that they are so open minded and accepting of the lgbtq community, but I really don't need to talk about that with my mom. It's weird.
"I'm coming." He says as he comes out of the bathroom.
_____
After saying goodbye with a lot of tears from my mom and me, I sit down in the car and mentally prepare for a two hour car ride with my dad, who sure as hell knows about the coke and xanax by now, but didn't mention it yet.
The first half of the ride is spent in silence, just the music from the radio.
"Scared?" Dad asks me, finally breaking the hour long silence.
"Yeah." I admit.
He smiles. "You're gonna do fine." He assures me. "I'm gonna be there for the evaluation meeting because I wanna make sure they know everything." He says.
"Uhm, okay?" I say unsure.
"You're not just going because of your drug addiction. You know that, right?" He says.
"I'm not?" I ask him confused.
"No, obviously you also have a lot of other problems not related to the drug abuse." He says.
I nod.
"You know, Caleb presented us with a nice list a month ago. I think it's long past due that you get immediate professional help." He says.
"Uh, yeah." I answer.
"We're really worried about you." Dad says.
"I- I know. I'm sorry." I say unsure.
"You don't have to apologize." He says and glances over for a split second before turning his eyes back to the street. "We did a lot wrong."
I frown. "Uhm. No? I mean I was in the drug program for a month already. It's not your fault I went ahead and cheated."
He nods. "I'm talking about Jared." He says.
I gulp. I didn't think he'd want to talk about this now. I guess he's right. Jared's death was the root of my mental health decline, I guess. It was also the root of this complicated relationship towards my dad.
"I was so worried that you'd end up like him that I reacted with anger. I ignored how his death must have affected you." He says. "And I'm really sorry for that."
"Uhm. It's fine. I understand your reaction." I say.
He shakes his head. "I wasn't there for you the way you needed me. I put a lot of stress on you, thinking I could help you lead a successful life and didn't realize that it only made everything worse." He says.
Oh fuck. I've kinda always wanted him to say all that, but now that he's at it, I just wanna hold my ears closed and disappear.
"Dad. It's okay. Please don't apologize for all that." I say to him.
"I'm also sorry for how I reacted when you told me you are gay." He says. "I'm in no way disappointed. But I needed time to get used to it, and understand it." He tells me.
This is so awkward. "Yeah. Dad. I get it. Okay? Thank you." I say.
He laughs. "You seem like you don't wanna hear all that." He says. "But I just want you to know that I'm sorry for treating you wrong. I thought it was the right thing to do."
"Uhm. Yeah." I clear my throat. "Thanks, dad."
This is so embarrassing and awkward.
"It's gonna be weird to not have you at home for so long." He says. "But your brother decided to move back in, so I guess we don't even get a real break." He says.
I chuckle. "Yeah. So he's really moving in with us?" I ask.
He nods. "Yes. I certainly didn't expect that to happen."
"Me neither." I agree.
The rest of the car ride is filled with easier topics than my dad apologizing for stuff.
_____
When we arrive I'm taken aback by the buildings. It's not one big building, it's more like a big garden with nine buildings in total. They call them parvillons.
I'm glad I'm eighteen because I will be in a pavilion with young adults up to 25 and not with the kids from 12 to 17.
I have to fill out a long ass form and sign three different things. I get to check all the drugs I've consumed, give all my medical history, which is basically nothing, and my mental problems, which, again is a blank list.
There are plenty of checkboxes, things like 'self harming behaviour', 'anorexia', 'anger management issues', 'sex addiction', 'suicidal thoughts'. The checkboxes already give me an idea of what kind of people I'm gonna meet. Obviously I check none of the ones I just listed.
"Finished?" The man who gave me the form asks as I turn the last sheet over to check the back.
My dad asks a lot of questions about the daily routines I'll have, about rooming and visit regulations.
We also talk about medication. The psychiatrist of the clinic can prescribe me medication, but both dad and I agree that I probably don't need anything. There are drugs that help with drug withdrawal, but honestly, I don't need that. Why? Because I never really took drugs regularly, so my body won't show any withdrawal symptoms.
Turns out there are currently eleven patients in the building I will be in. I'm gonna share a room with someone else and I'm allowed to be on my phone in my free time.
After everything is filled out and my dad has the answers to all his questions he has to leave.
He gives me a hug and pats my back, telling me I'm gonna do great.
I hate this. I hate all of this. I feel like a freak. I'm just gonna turn even freakier with all the freaks I'm gonna be here with.
Obviously that's really mean of me, but honestly, there will be freaks.
The property of the clinic is nicely kept, there is a street connecting the different buildings and the garden has nice plants and flowers. I wonder if I'm allowed to leave the building on my own since I've seen no one around so far.
We walk to the pavilion by foot since it's just a five minute walk.
"So, your first time at a mental hospital?" The guy bringing me the building I'm staying in asks me.
God. Small talk. Can I avoid that somehow?
"Yeah." I confirm.
He nods. "No need to feel scared or ashamed. You're gonna have a great time here." He assures me.
I try to be polite and don't roll my eyes and instead smile and nod. Great time. Sure.
____
At the right building we walk through two locked doors and at the entrance a woman, around forty, is already waiting for me.
She explains everything a second time, with a few additional infos. There will be two to three staff members around at all times and the therapists always come over at the same time every week.
I get a nice time sheet, which doesn't include my solo therapy sessions yet, but gives me a rough overview of how my days will look like.
Get up at 7, eat breakfast, one hour free time, group sessions, lunch at 1, free time until 3 and after that again therapy sessions and other activities, like yoga and other shit, lastly dinner at 7.
At night we seriously get locked in our rooms. Yep. From 9 to 6 we get locked up. And every two hours someone comes to check up.
There's also a church on the property since it's a christian therapy center.
I ask the woman, her name is Veronica, about vegan or at least vegetarian food and she tells me it's not a problem.
She shows me around the building. There are rooms in the two upper floors, downstairs are a big room for group sessions of any kind and multiple smaller rooms for single psychotherapy.
There's also a basement with a small gym room and a room with a table football and a pinball table.
Right now, everyone's at a group session, so I have time until lunch to move in my room and get comfortable.
I'm sharing my room with a guy named Louis. He's 22 and here for drug rehab as well. I'm glad I'm staying in the room with someone who isn't here for stuff like 'anger management issues' or 'sex addiction'.
Veronica brings me to my room after I saw the whole building.
The room looks really boring, white walls, two beds, two dressers and a bathroom. The windows don't open fully and there are bars outside of them. The bathroom and toilet cannot be locked. Bye bye privacy, I guess.
I sit on the bed while she looks through my bag to make sure I don't have anything with me I'm not allowed to bring.
After she leaves with my freaking belt in hand, I unpack my stuff, putting my clothes into the empty dresser. After that I sit down on my new bed. The mattress feels too hard and worn out.
____
I snap a few pictures of the room and a selfie to send to Austin. He asks if he can call me and my phone is ringing the second I reply with a yes.
"Hey! You're already there." Austin says.
"Hello. Yup." I answer.
"How is it?" He wants to know.
"Uhm, well, I haven't met any other patients yet, but I will in half an hour. I'm gonna be sharing my room with another druggie." I tell him. "It all seems really strict here, but at least I can use my phone in my free time."
Austin sighs. "That's a relief, I really hope it's gonna be the same where I end up at." He says.
"Right. Where exactly are you going?" I ask him, still having a glimpse of hope he could come here, too.
"It's like half an hour away from home, right outside the town." He explains.
I groan. "Okay. How long will you stay?" I wanna know.
"Just two weeks, maybe longer if needed." He tells me. "You're gonna be gone for a whole month, right?" He asks me.
"Yeah. It fucking sucks. I'm gonna miss new year's." I complain.
"No new year's kiss." Austin whines.
"Yeah. But at least Caleb can't shoot fireworks at me." I bring up.
Austin laughs. "He shot fireworks at you?" He asks.
I groan. "Caleb goes crazy for New year's eve every damn year. I learned to stay as far away from him as possible. He always breaks the sticks off, so the fireworks swirl around unpredictably." I explain.
"What?" Austin asks, laughing loudly. "That's dangerous. That's how people die."
"Tell me about it. Dad tells us about the injuries each year." I say. "One firework once exploded right next to me and my jacket got burnt. And on the same night his friend accidently set the basement of a building on fire because one firework shot right in through an open window. So Caleb broke in and put the fire out."
Austin laughs. "That's fucking crazy. I had no idea that Caleb is so chaotic."
"Yeah. He also put the stick of fireworks in his ass and-" by this point I barely get out the words from laughing so much about the memory. "-it got stuck and didn't fly away, so he burnt his ass and ran around screaming."
"Dude. How is he still alive?" Austin asks me shocked, but laughs as well.
"I honestly don't know. There are a lot more stories from other new year's nights. That was just the last two." I tell him. There's also the time Caleb shot fireworks out the window at a cop car and when they noticed, he quickly closed the windows and hid the lit box of fireworks in the chimney.
I don't like fireworks that much. I love seeing them, but I'm kinda scared of them and I hate that they are so damn loud.
"My new year's were usually always just going to a club and getting drunk with Matt." Austin says. "And we always played with those roman candles, shooting them at each other, pretending we're sorcerers."
I smile, imagining Austin running around and shooting them at Matt, casting magic spells.
"Matt had a bald spot from where I shot him." Austin says, giggling.
"Oh god. Please don't meet up with Caleb. If you do, I'm sure at least one of you is going to end up dead or severely injured." I say.
He snickers. "Okay, I'll stay away from him during new year's"
I sigh. "I miss you already."
"Yeah. I miss you, too. And I miss being home and having privacy." He brings up.
"I feel you." I say, rolling my eyes.
"Yeah. It sucks. But if you stay away from drugs that way, it's worth it, right?" He points out.
I groan. "I see nothing positive about that."
"Sammy." He starts with a scolding voice.
I really don't want him to try and convince me I'm addicted and I need help yadda yadda.
"I gotta go now, I hear someone coming upstairs. Guess, I'll meet my roomie now." I say.
"Oh okay. Have fun. I love you." He says.
I smile. Hearing him say he loves me just makes me smile so goddamn much every time.
"I love you, too. Maybe we can talk in the evening. When are you leaving tomorrow?" I ask him.
"I'm discharged from the hospital at 10 and I have to be at the clinic at 2, so I got some time to go home and pack my stuff." He explains.
"Sounds stressful. Call or text me anytime. I'm gonna send you my timetable so you know when I got free time." I suggest.
"Okay. Hear you later, bye!"
"Bye." I end the call and lie down on the bed. I don't wanna be here. I don't wanna meet my roommate or other patients. I hate meeting new people.
I look at the time, half past eleven already. At school I'd be happy that the week is almost over. Here, it's only starting.
____
"Oh, already someone new?" A tall, blonde guy asks as he walks in.
Nice way to greet someone.
He smiles and walks up to me. "Nice to meet you, my name's Louis. But everyone calls me Lou."
I nod and return the smile. "Hey, nice to meet you, too. I'm Sammy." I introduce myself.
I hold out my hand, but he just looks at it, instead of shaking it. Why, oh why do I always embarrass myself?
"I'd take it, but we're actually not allowed to touch each other." He says.
Oh? I totally overheard that fact.
He seems to notice my confused expression and explains it to me. "Well, you see, a lot of people are on different kinds of meds and they can make people horny. So a simple pat on the shoulder could turn into sex in a matter of seconds obviously." He says with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
I chuckle awkwardly.
"So, what are you in for? I don't want another roomie who randomly shouts swear words at night and jumps up to dance." He says, crossing his arms.
"Uhm, I think you don't have to worry about that." I say. "I'm here for drugs."
He instantly smiles wide. "Nice." He says and holds out his hand in a fist.
Didn't he just say we're not supposed to touch each other?
I reluctantly give him a fist bump.
"Me too. Been here for a month, got another month to go. Court ordered." He tells me.
"Oh, sucks." I say hesitantly. "Uhm, my parents made me come here after a failed rehab at home."
Lou sits down on his bed. "So, you're not here because you want to?" He asks.
I shake my head. "Hell, no. Why would I come here voluntarily?" I ask.
He shrugs. "There are some people who actually want to change." He points out.
I sigh and rub my face. "Well, does it matter? We're stuck. What happens after is a whole other story."
He just shrugs. "So, what kinda drugs did you take?" He asks me.
"Uhm. Mostly just weed." I tell him.
He nods. "You smoked often?"
I shrug. "A few times a week. What about you?" I ask.
"Well, I'm here because I got arrested for possessing speed and lsd, but I mostly smoked crack." He explains.
Oh god. I don't even know what crack is. Is it coke? I have no idea actually.
I nod my head. "Well, how is the rehab going? Is it hard?" I ask him carefully.
He starts laughing. "Welcome to hell. They treat us like children. It's extremely annoying." He says.
I scratch my head. "Oh, I thought I was lucky to be here instead of with the teenagers."
"Oh, don't get me wrong, you definitely are better off here. Some people here have been here before when they were younger and let me tell you, you don't wanna be here as a minor." He explains.
I press my lips together as I look at the bars outside the windows. This place makes me kinda anxious.
He smiles. "Don't worry, you got the best roommate you can get." He assures me. "I'm sure we'll get along just fine." He tells me.
I frown. Why does he say that in such a creepy way?
He quickly holds up his hands in defense. "No, don't worry, I'm not a creep, I swear. That came out in a weird way."
I start laughing. "Yeah, sure. I'll sleep with one eye open then."
I drags his hands down his face. "Sorry. Don't worry, I'm normal."
He stands up and comes over and sits down next to me. "So, you said you mostly smoked weed. You like acid?" He asks me, talking quieter than before, probably so no one can hear him.
Acid is LSD, right? I think Mila called it that. Fuck, I feel like a noob for not knowing any drug related terms.
"Uhm, well. Yeah, I guess." I say unsure.
He raises an eyebrow. "Ever tried it?" He asks.
"Uhm, once." I admit. "A week ago, actually."
He smiles. "Nice. My plug comes to visit every weekend and brings me a few hits, so if you wanna drop some before dinner and trip all night just hit me up." He says.
I look at him surprised. Wait. Seriously? They take drugs in here? What?
"Aren't they gonna find out? I mean, there are drug tests, right?" I ask him.
He laughs. "No tests here." He says.
I raise my eyebrows. "Oh, for real?"
"For real. Fucking stupid, I know. They once did a drug test on everyone two weeks ago, but they announced it two days in advance, so everyone was able to get prepared." He tells me.
"Oh, uhm, I certainly didn't expect that." I admit.
Would I wanna take acid? I'm here to get away from drugs. I'm here mostly for weed. I don't wanna be here at all, but I certainly don't wanna get out of here addicted to hard drugs.
"Well, I'm all out right now and I kinda needed the break, I hardly felt anything the last two times, but I'll get some tomorrow, just tell me if you also want some." He says.
I nod. "Mhm. What do you get in return?" I ask him unsure.
He shrugs. "Whatever you got. You got friends who're gonna visit you? I like chocolate." He says.
"Okay." I say unsure. Does he mean actual chocolate? Or is that some codeword?
He smiles wide. "Don't worry. I'm not trying to force you to take anything. If you're here to get clean, do that. I support you." He says.
I scratch my head unsure. "Uhm, yeah, I guess I'll think about it."
"How long are you gonna be here? A month?" He asks me.
I nod. "Yeah. A month." I confirm.
Lou stands up and sits back down on his bed as someone else walks in.
"Hey, you must be Samuel." A woman says.
"Uh, Sammy." I say.
She smiles wide. "I'm Rebecca. Just call me Becca." She introduces herself. She looks around the same age as Louis, maybe younger. "I'm always here thursday, friday and monday." She explains.
She looks pretty young to be working here, but I guess she just looks younger than she is.
"I see you already put your stuff away, that's great. Just take your time to get used to being here. Louis will surely tell you how everything works." She says with a friendly smile and then leaves again.
"She's one of the nicer workers here." Lou explains. "And she's also nice to look at." He adds with a dreamy smile.
"Uh, I guess." I say, feeling a blush make it's way on my cheeks like always.
"You got a girlfriend?" He asks me curiously.
"Boyfriend, actually." I tell him.
He hisses like what I just said gave him pain. "You better not tell anyone." He says.
"Excuse me?" I ask him.
"Well, there are a few people who disagree with that. This is a christian facility, so there are a few of the older staff members who think it's wrong. If I were you I would keep that to myself." He advises me.
I glare at him. This is stupid. Why am I here? Why did my parents think this rehab center was a good idea?
"Don't look at me like that. I don't care who you fuck." He says casually and looks me up and down. "Or who fucks you? Anyway, I'm just looking out for you, man."
I scoff and fold my arms over my chest. "That's fucking stupid." I say.
He sighs. "I know. I'm just advising you to not make any enemies here. Especially not with the people who work here."
I roll my eyes and decide to text Austin to get some emotional support.
"Save me. I don't wanna be here." I text him.
"So. Does your partner also take drugs?" He asks me, probably using a gender neutral term in case someone hears us talk.
"Not really. Just occasionally." I explain.
Louis nods. "Is he gonna come visit you? If I had a girlfriend I'd have her come visit me every week." He says.
"Well, not in the next two weeks cause he's busy, maybe after that, I don't know." I explain.
"That sucks." He says and I nod.
We don't really get a real conversation running. Every topic he starts dies down and I know it's my fault.
"How are the other patients?" I ask him. I almost called them inmates because let's be honest, this feels a lot like a prison.
"Most are nice. We got a lot of new people at the beginning of the month." He explains. "We are six girls I think and six guys now." He explains. "Six are here for drugs, the others mainly for depression or some other mental illnesses. One girl is also really young, I'm sure you're gonna get along great with her."
"I don't really like meeting new people." I mutter.
Louis chuckles. "Yeah, not a surprise. You're not the most social person."
This is just annoying. I wanna be at home, lie in my bed in peace.
"What happened to your face?" He asks me after two minutes of silence.
I almost forgot I still have a big bruise on my face. "Got into a fight." I tell him.
His eyes light up and he claps his hands excitedly. "Ooh. You get into a lot of fights? It's really boring here, I can't wait for a fight."
I roll my eyes. "I don't like getting into fights." I explain. "I just get caught up in them a lot."
"Lame." He comments. "You're so boring. Tell me how you ended up here. Your parents found you smoking weed?" He asks.
I groan. "Something like that. How about you tell me your story." I suggest and lie down on the bed.
"Not spectacular, got pulled over by police and they searched my car. Went to court and ended up here." He says.
"Wow. And I'm the boring one? That's so basic." I point out.
He shrugs. "I never said I'm not boring myself."
I really don't know what to think of Louis. He's nice, he offered me drugs. But he's also really weird.
I just hope I can get used to him.