Don't Trust Me

Her

"How's the pudding?" Robin asks, leaning over in his chair. 

I give him a deathly stare before I reply, "It's alright." 

"How're you feeling?" Dr. Portman walks into the room with his clipboard. 

"I still feel like someone is repeatedly hitting me with a metal pole." I reply, annoyed.

He looks at some paperwork, "You were very dehydrated and fainting is a common reaction to not drinking water for a few days. It's important that you stay hydrated. You had a concussion, but the fall didn't cause too much damage to your brain," he pats me on the back, "I would give it another day before you can go home."

He talks to Robin and hands him a prescription before telling me to eat up and drink for the second time. I pick up a fork and jab it into a plate of spaghetti on the hospital bedside table. Robin moves his hand to imitate how to eat with a fork and I flip him off in response. I take a bite of the pasta and am greeted with it's buttery taste. 

"We need to talk." He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, "I don't know if you were conscious when I was talking last night. I want you to know that I meant every word." 

I stop eating and meet his gaze. "Now's not the time to have a heart-to-heart, talk to me when the painkillers start kicking in." 

He stops talking for a few seconds and then speaks, "Your citizen classes start tomorrow." 

I drop my fork on my plate and groan. 

************************

The Next Day

Waking up to eggs and bacon was unexpected, but I gladly welcomed it. Robin's really trying here. He hasn't cooked for me in months. I can't and won't forgive him for his words right away, but my guard has been down a little this morning. 

"How's your head?" He's leaning on the kitchen counter-top. 

"Better." I say, honestly. 

The painkillers are really working. 

Time to leave for this dumb class filled with delinquents and idiots. Why did  get myself into this mess? I take my phone and car keys from the counter and stuff them in my black leather jacket. Robin looks at me before saying, 

"Give me the keys."

"What?"

"The car keys. You need consequences and I'm putting my foot down."  

The annoying bastard is really getting on my nerves. I roll my eyes, dig them out, and give them to him. 

He drives me, tells me he'll be back in two hours, and drops me off in the very front of the community center. I drowsily wince at the flyer on the door describing the class. 

"What are you in for?" A female voice from behind me asks. 

"Excuse me?" I ask, and turn around.

This girl's pretty hot for a delinquent. 

"What did you do to make you take that class?" She eagerly inquires. 

"It's really none of your business. How would you feel if I asked you why you're here? Let me guess, prostitution?" 

She scoffs, "Very funny, I'm actually here for drama club." She points to another flyer. 

She opens the door and I follow after her. She flips me off whilst waiting for the elevator to come down. 

"Classy." I comment. 

"Never said I was." She says and gets in the elevator. 

She tries to close the door, but I get in before she has the chance to close it on me and leave the conversation, or whatever the hell this is. 

A sudden pain in my head distracts me from saying something else. The elevator doors open on to the 2nd floor and she leaves to her class's room which is down the hall from mine. 

"Bitch." I whisper and shake my head. 

What's stuck up her ass? I scoff and open the door to the God forsaken class. I audibly groan in annoyance when I see the chairs set up in group-therapy like fashion. A group circle, really? 

Are you fucking kidding me. 

"Well hello there, my name is Dr. Kate."  A blonde woman in a hideous beige pantsuit walks over to shake my hand. 

I ignore her greeting and take the seat closest to the door. 

Her smile falters and she takes her seat, pen and clipboard in hand. She takes attendance. 

Starting to notice the other students in this class, I shudder. I'm not the least bit intimidated, but I'm taken aback at many of their appearances. Their lifeless faces and clothes speak for their crimes. I start thinking about their life-stories and crimes and sure enough, I predicted correctly almost every time.  We had to share our stories. 

The girl with the grey hoodie and reddish-tinted eyes had a drug and stealing problem, the boy with the tattoos and piercings was the neighborhood drug dealer; many of the delinquents' stories sounded the same. 

When the time came, I shared my story. I was nervous as hell really. 

The whole class went silent and Dr. Kate was at a lost for words. For a damn psychiatrist, she shouldn't be phased. She quickly recovered and made us do some stupid trust exercises. 

I couldn't shake the anxiety off, so I thought about something else to pass time. Well, someone else. She was so peculiar and too damn nosy.