Just Friends. (A falling in love with my best friend story)

Chapter 10: Time

  Genna's POV:

I sat in the waiting room, squeezing Parker's hand as tight as I could, just to get myself to stop shaking. I tapped my feet, looked around, I've gotten up twice now just to sit back down again, not knowing what I was doing. I was about to run screaming out of here. 

        "Gen...I can't feel my hand." Parker said. I let go and put my face in my hands, letting out a barely surpressed frustrated yell. I felt a hand on my back and I heard Parker say in an undertone that it was just nerves to someone to our left. I must've gotten people staring.

I couldn't help it. I hated waiting. More than the usual person. Especially if it was for a big event. It could be the worst possible thing in your life. It could be the best thing that ever happened to you. You wouldn't know until you found out. My worst fear is the unknown. I can't stand not knowing. I just can't. Knowing means I have something to be centered around, something I can plan for. I had to wait three hours in the unknown while the doctors made sure my mother was dead. I had to wait two hours to see if I was stable enough to return back home after rehab. I hated it.

        "Genna, you're scaring me. You're shaking, and people are starting to look." Parker said in a low tone next to me.

        "Let them." I snapped.

        "Genevieve Skyes?" A female voice called. I got up without another word to him and left with the doctor. I wasn't afraid anymore. I just wanted to go back home and cry. Everything was going wrong so far. Just everything. And it's been a week since my relapse and I could feel one coming on again.

        "Sit right down here honey, we're going to have to ask you to take your clothes off, leaving on your undergarments." She said. She was in her forties, she had dark chocolate skin with black hair and kind, caring eyes. She reminded me of one of my nurses back at rehab.

        "My sister was one of the nurses who took care of you." She smiled at me. Startled, I smiled tentatively back. 

She left the room and I started taking off my clothes, shivering at the frigid air.

I sat there, on one of the chairs, frozen. Honestly, the only thought in my head right now was that I prayed to God I had a female doctor.

        "Genevieve? Oh, God you must be freezing. I should've had her wait to tell you to take your clothes off but oh well. My name's Dr. Connors but you may call me Rose. Now, I understand that you're here because you've been having eating problems?" A blonde woman had rushed in and said all of this all at once and I barely had time to even register that she had even entered. I stood up and nodded. She handed me a hospital gown, which I slipped over my head.

        "Y-yes." I said, as she led me to the table where I sat.

She sat down across from me and seemed to notice for the first time how terrible I must've looked. My hips haven't even filled the teeniest bit even though Mary has been stuffing me.

        "Goodness, things couldn't have been easy for you could they?" She asked in a soft tone. I looked down and nodded. She started shuffling through some papers.

        "Well, we're going to be seeing a lot of each other Genna. I have your medical records from Good Care hospital and rehabilitation center, and I understand that before you were checked in, you have....overdosed on Tylenol, starved yourself and currently have scars running down your arms from suicide attempts?" She asked, looking up.

        "They weren't all suicide attempts. They were for relief." I said, feeling tears come to my eyes. This was the first time I've ever admitted it, but I felt the need to clarify it. She nodded.

        "I know. Those idiots over there think they know what they're doing, drugging you just to get the old drugs out, slamming you down on tables, forcing you to heal. It's not easy. I used to work there before I saw what they were doing to those poor patients." She said.

My level of respect for her just richoted right off the scale. Finally, a doctor I could relate to.

        "We're also going to be signing you into therapy as well...I hope you know this. Your records say that your most recent therapist wasn't the right choice I'm guessing?" She asked. I shook my head, my heart sinking a bit.

I've had enough of therapists. I didn't want one. I didn't need one.

        "You'll be happy to know that Dr. Bowman is very specialized when it comes to teenagers. He's very considerate and I've known him to solve many many problems." She said. My head snapped up.

        "He?" I asked. The only therapists I've ever met, and I've had many considering all of them are idiots.

        "Yes. You'll like him a lot. I know you will. Now, let's get on with diagnosing shall we? Through the phone call, Mrs. Tomlinson has explained her attempts to feed you more. Now while her intentions were good...." I let her voice travel off in my head as my heart plummeted.

She may seem good, but they all think the same things. They always do. That therapists and drugs and diets can solve anything. Not just plain old human compasssion.

***

        "How'd it go?" Parker asked, standing up once I walked up to him. I shook my head and walked out the door without waiting for Mary, who was still talking with the doctor.

Rose had promised me that she'd keep my rehab problems a secret, so that the only thing Mary knows about is the fact that I'm extremely underfed and under-cared for.

I climbed into the backseat of the car, and sat there, putting my face in my hands and crying. I hated everything. Just when I thought someone actually had a level head, they didn't. They turned back into the dim-witted, science wired-braniac I've come to despise. The ones that think they can solve anything.

I heard the door on the other side open and Parker climbed in next to me.

        "I don't wanna talk about it." I said to him. He nodded. I knew he cared, but....I just....I didn't know.

        "I know. I got you something." He said, digging through his jacket pocket. He pulled out two books. Both not incredibly thick, but good-sized.

He handed them to me, and I skimmed the pages, realizing they were poetry. I looked up, confused.

        "Poetry?" I asked.

        "Read a few lines." He said. I picked a verse and read it out loud: " The best often die by their own hand; just to get away, and those left behind, can never quite understand; why anybody would ever want to; get away; from; them." 

I put the books down and reached over and hugged Parker, not sure what to say. I loved the gesture, I just didn't understand why he chose to get me them.

        "Why him?" I asked. He smiled.

        "In some of his books, he sounds a lot like you." He said.