Ava woke slowly, her hair in her mouth and her leg throbbing painfully. She groggily sat up, brushing her hair back and glancing around. Why was she in the basement? Why was she sleeping on the couch? And why the heck did her leg hurt so badly?
She suddenly caught sight of the crutches leaned up against the end of the couch, and the previous events came rushing back to her. Groaning, she reached for them, and stood up on one leg, adjusting them under her arms.
She hobbled up the stairs, thankful that she could simply push the door open. Her mother was sitting in the living room, reading the paper and sipping her coffee.
"Ava!" the woman shouted as she noticed the girl in the doorway. "What were you doing down there?"
"I went down last night and fell asleep on the couch," she mumbled, still trying to remember everything. "My leg hurts so bad."
Gail stood quickly and helped her daughter into the living room, seating her on the couch. "I picked up your pain medicine on my way home last night. I'll get it for you."
Ava nodded and grimaced as she tried to find a less painful position. She realized she was still wearing her cheer skirt and a hoodie. The skirt was short enough for her to see a giant purple and blue bruise formed on her thigh. It looked gross.
"How's your leg?"
Ava glanced up finding Hayden in front of her. He was dressed for the day, but his hair was a mess, as usual.
"It hurts," she said quietly. "And looks nasty." She gestured to the contusion on her thigh.
Hayden made a face as he leaned forward to look. "At least you don't have to wear a cast. They itch really bad."
"And how would you know?" She raised an eyebrow and all but glared at him. She was not in the mood to have him play the glad game and try and brighten her situation.
He glanced away. "I broke my ankle a few years ago."
"Oh," Ava almost felt bad. He actually did know what he was talking about. "Hey, thanks for the pizza last night," she blurted out suddenly. "It was pretty good."
He smiled...maybe. "I'm just glad you don't hate pizza anymore."
Gail walked back into the room, carrying an orange prescription bottle and a glass of water. "Here you are, sweetheart," she said, passing the items to Ava. "You need to take two. Good morning, Hayden." She smiled over at the young man. "Breakfast will be in just a few minutes."
He nodded and eased himself down in a big armchair, and picking at his thumb.
"So how did the two of you spend your evening?" Gail asked taking the water from Ava and helping her arrange an ice pack on her thigh.
"We watched this German movie," Ava replied. "Hayden translated."
"I didn't know you spoke German, Hayden," Gail turned around, looking at him.
"I don't," Hayden admitted, perking up considerably. "I just made it up as I went along."
"And that's what made it so funny," Ava put in, smiling. "Especially that one part about the polar bears!"
"My, that sounds interesting!" Gail chuckled, inwardly rejoicing that the two of them had gotten along. Perhaps she shouldn't intervene anymore. They seemed to deal with each other much better when she wasn't around.
They were finally called to breakfast, but all three decided to eat in the living room so that Ava didn't have to move. When they finished, Ava decided to take a bath, and Hayden and Gail left to talk in her office. She immediately noticed how quickly Hayden's demeanor changed.
He sat in a chair, nervously wringing his hands and glancing around fearfully. What was it that made him so afraid? Could it be that he simply didn't want to talk to her? That he was intimated by a one on one conversation? Was there something more that she was missing?
"So, tell me, Hayden. How was school this week?" It seemed best to talk about a less personal topic first.
"It was good."
"I remember you mentioned there was a special art project going on. Did you enjoy it?"
He nodded.
"And did your math test go well?"
He nodded again.
Gail pursed her lips. This was so strange. Hayden was shy, and she knew he was, but why was he more open when other people were around? When he had first come, she had monitored him closely due to the fact that he was suicidal, but she hadn't seen any signs of it. She had never had a teen patient interested in going to school.
Things weren't adding up. In most cases, patients who were suicidal and/or self-harming would do everything to stay secluded in their rooms, but Hayden didn't seem to mind being with everyone else. In most cases, patients would be more talkative with her and not the other members of the household, but Hayden was just the opposite.
Other than being shy, sensitive, and hurting from the pain his family had experienced, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with this boy. It was just so confusing. Hayden's father had expressed worry in the fact that there was something seriously wrong with his son's mental state, and had tried all kinds of therapy before her help. He had been described as "depressed" but hadn't uttered a negative word in the entire time he'd been with them.
"Hayden, why do you think you are here?" She asked suddenly, almost more for the purpose of satisfying her own curiosity.
He shrugged. "Cause there's something wrong with me, I guess."
"What do you think that something is?"
"I tried to kill myself."
Gail hesitated. He'd said it so bluntly it took her by surprise. "Why?"
"It...seemed better than...than everything else going on in my life."
"And at the time, what was the 'everything else?'"
"Well, there was my mom...and after her they took Cabella, and I was in a lot of physical pain, so it seemed like the better option."
"Was it?"
He shook his head, staring at the floor.
Gail smiled gently. "I can promise you one thing, Hayden. Suicide is never the better option. You don't deserve it. Ever."
He nodded solemnly, still staring at his feet. Everyone told him that, but he still didn't believe it. The world would likely be better off without him. What was the point to staying anyway? He knew suicide was no escape, but the idea was still somehow inviting.
Gail knew it was time to change the subject. She wasn't sure if she wanted to probe deeper into the topic of self-harm just yet. Hayden obviously regretted it. "I take it you and Ava got along last night?"
"Yeah."
At least she'd gotten a verbal response. Not quite what she was looking for, but it was better than nothing. "I hope she's treating you nicely. Please tell me if she's not."
"She's nice to me. Bossy, but nice." Occasionally. Ava wasn't always nice to him, but it was guaranteed to get worse if he told Gail about it.
"Oh, that's good to hear. She still has no right to be bossy, however. I'll speak to her about it."
"You don't need to," Hayden put in quickly. "It was only last night; probably because her leg was bothering her." Please, please, please, don't bring it up to her! She was just starting to not hate me!
"Well, I'm glad that's the case. Just let me know if she does anything else. I've been trying to rid her of her bossiness for years." She paused, noticing how fidgety he was. Something was bothering him, but she had quickly learned that Hayden wouldn't talk to her about it until after the fact. "But speaking of Ava, I need to check on her. We'll finish up this afternoon, alright?"
Hayden nodded and stood, eager to get away. He particularly disliked these sessions with Gail. The two left Gail's office, the woman to go find her daughter, and Hayden to finish his sketch of the zebra, Geometry.
Gail walked up the stairs to Ava's bedroom and entered through the open door. Her daughter had used the elevator to access her room since it would be difficult to get up so many steps.
The elevator was built into the house for Dustin's parents, neither of whom could actually use stairs. For once, it had come in handy. Well, it had been useful when they were moving furniture upstairs, but that was all.
The door to Ava's bathroom was still shut, and Gail knocked to make her presence known. "Ava, honey, it's just me. May I come in?"
"Me who?" Came the snappy response.
"Your mother," Gail replied, sticking her head in the bathroom. "The only other person in this house who would call you 'honey.'"
"Oh, yeah, you can come in." Ava shifted in the huge bathtub to face her mother, switching off the jets so she could hear better. "What do you want?" she asked, sinking down further into the white bubbles.
"I came to check on you. I didn't want you to drown or something."
Ava snorted—a rather unladylike sound. "Drown? In a bathtub?"
"It's happened before," Gail told her daughter, seating herself on the vanity stool. "But changing the subject, how are you and Hayden getting along?"
"Okay," she said, combing her fingers through her wet hair. "He's not as annoying as I thought he'd be. I'm not saying he's not annoying, he's just less annoying than I expected."
"Ava, please, he's very nice and hasn't done a thing to disturb you since he's been here. And I don't ever want to hear you call him a 'toothpick', or anything else, again. Is that clear?"
"Yes, ma'am," she grumbled.
"Thank you. Now, I need you to answer me honestly. Does he act comfortable around you? Was he shy and reserved last night?"
Ava shrugged. "No. He was laughing and enjoying himself. Why?"
"His father said he was incredibly shy, and he can be, but he seems to be far shyer in my office than anywhere else." Gail sighed heavily.
"Maybe he just doesn't like being interviewed about weird and personal topics, like everyone else on the planet."
Gail gave her daughter a silencing look. But perhaps Ava was onto something. Perhaps he simply wasn't comfortable with the setting. Maybe she would hold their afternoon session on the back porch, or another less threatening location.
"Call me if you need me," she told her daughter, standing and exiting the bathroom. She smiled over her shoulder and shut the door behind her, glancing out the window. She spotted Hayden sitting under a tree, drawing. He seemed to be sketching Geometry, who was prancing around his pen.
The boy was heavily focused on his work, skillfully shading the zebra's muscle tone for the perfect shape. He was very proud of the picture so far. Geometry was depicted with his head mid-toss and trotting across the page. His hindquarters seemed to be exploding with tense energy—as if the drawing was almost ready to move.
He loved to draw. Art was something, one small thing, that he could control. Life...he had no say in life, but art was another matter entirely. If he wanted it to go on the paper, he drew it. If he didn't like something, he erased it. He couldn't do that with life.
Someone cleared their throat beside him, and he glanced up, surprised. Ava stood a few feet away, leaning on her crutches. Her hair was still wet, and she was dressed the most casually Hayden had ever seen—sweatpants and a t-shirt.
"I am here to solicit your help," she said flatly, almost as if she didn't want to be saying it, getting straight to the point.
He offered her a confused look.
"I can't care for Alaska with this stupid broken leg, and she doesn't like any of the stable hands. She does; however, seem to like you, so I would like you to help me. Please." The last word was said so forcedly that it seemed as if she was simply trying to sound like she was asking instead of telling him what to do.
"Oh, sure." He stood and set his drawing aside, knowing there wasn't much else he could say. At least she'd asked this time. He allowed her to lead the way to the barn, trying to stay slower than her halted steps. He did walk ahead to open the door for her. She might highly dislike him, but he wasn't rude enough to let her struggle with it herself.
To his astonishment, she actually smiled her thanks. Perhaps she was nice...occasionally.