With You┃Dylan O'Brien ⓵

Chapter Thirty-Eight : The Diagnosis

Dylan's POV

After Anita is taken from me indefinitely and into some secluded room, I am escorted by some nurse to the waiting room on the third floor. My mother arrives shortly thereafter, and it is just the two of us for about twenty minutes, in which we sit there in near silence, other than a couple words.

Adrian and Naomi show up after that, Naomi speed walking while dragging her boyfriend behind her quickly. Her face is red as if she has previously been crying, which I know for a fact she has been. When she sees me, she lets go of Adrian's hand and runs to give me a tight hug, then sits down on the ground (for whatever reason) in front of my mother and I.

"What exactly happened?", she asks desperately. "I know I really shouldn't have been crying but I couldn't help it."

"It's perfectly alright, honey," mom says.

"I can't tell you exactly what happened because I was only there for the aftermath," I notify them. "I was asleep and woke up to texts from her where she was painfully obviously drunk, and they sounded just off... So I called but she didn't answer, and I rushed to her house where I found her passed out on her couch."

"Okay, wait," Adrian voices. "So if she just like passed out from being drunk, then why did we have to bring her to a hospital?"

"Seriously?", Naomi says sharply, looking worried. "Have you seen how tiny Anita is, I mean, she's like... tiny."

"Yes," my mom nods. "I would not so much have worried otherwise, but consuming that much alcohol at once when you're as small as her is not a good thing at all."

"Especially if it was on an empty stomach, which I'm almost sure it was," I sigh, dragging a hand down my face.

"Oh...", Adrian trails off, looking down to the dull linoleum of the hospital floor.

My mother and Naomi venture down to the cafeteria after a while to get some snacks, while Adrian and I try to distract ourselves by playing games on our phones and his portable Play Station.

The ladies return with chips, pudding cups, and bowls of fruit salad. We consume the food without much conversation, and my mind automatically wanders back to Anita, causing my anxiety to return.

Mister Burns comes walking towards us at a fast pace at that time, and this is the first time I've seen him since the night I watched him, from a distance, storm out of his own home. It's been a couple of weeks, but it looks like the man has aged by five years.

There's an eternity of circles beneath his dark and red eyes, he has a considerable amount of facial hair that was previously near non-existent, and his body language screams of anguish. I feel an incredibly large amount of pity and sorrow for him, and I wish I could take a vacuum to suck the pain and negativity from his life.

Once again, my mom and I team up to fill him in on all of the details of what has happened, and all that we know at this point, which sadly and quite frustratingly is pretty much nothing...

Anita's father looks almost haunted by memories as he takes the seat on the other side of my mother. He notes that his wife didn't answer or return any of his calls or messages, so he has no idea if she will be there.

Then, for the next hour and twenty minutes, the five of us sit in the fancy yet dreary waiting room, forced to play the unwanted and painstaking waiting game.

~

Every time the doors between the waiting room and the patient rooms open, our heads snap up quickly in hopes it is someone who has come to inform us about Anita. But nobody comes to us.