By the time he'd gotten back to his office, Jeremy found a thick pile of folders on his desk, which must have been the records of the children. He'd already sent the children to their rooms, though he was sure they'd slipped out and found their ways outdoors, where there were activities being held until one in the afternoon. One in the afternoon was when the first therapy session would be held for one of the kids for each counselor. Then, the second session would be held at three. Another at seven. Lunch and dinner were held at noon and six. Jeremy made his way to his desk and sat down in the plush chair, moving to open the beige folders.
The first one read Isaac Hewman on the small flap on the side. From earlier, Jeremy remembered this boy as the one with the cyan colored hair. Inside of his file, the basic information read to him that he was seventeen years old, unsure of his sexual orientation, and his disorder was substance abuse. There was a very brief description on how Isaac became addicted to the substances, of the drug variety, and then his file ended with a clip of his picture.
The second file read the name Rin Kaituyama on the small flap. The picture inside of his file portrayed an Asian male with bleach blonde hair. His hair was obviously dyed, as his eyebrows were a dark, chocolate brown which matched his eyes. He was sixteen years old, and he was diagnosed with Oppositional Defiance Disorder, which meant to Jeremy he was going to have a tough time talking to Rin, as he'd only focus on what he wanted to hear, not what Jeremy spoke to him. There was a short little note at the foot of the file that read about Rin being a narcissist.
The third file read the name Becky Huberst. The picture on the inside showed a larger girl, who's makeup was done with thick black eyeliner around her eyes and blood red lipstick. She had long brown hair that went far enough that the rest of it got cropped out of the picture. The information regarding Becky read how she was two hundred seventy-three pounds, which was much more than he'd expected by looking at her. The issue that Becky had was her eating disorder, and that she was frequently depressed. From this, Jeremy assumed she was a stress-eater.
The fourth file read the name Ivy Desottelle. The picture inside detailed a ginger girl with a breathtaking smile. Her teeth were perfectly aligned, but her eyes showed nothing but sadness and a cry for help. She was seventeen years old, turning eighteen at the end of the program. Her problem was self harm, a common problem in the camp.
The fifth, and final, file read the name Emmett Crune. Jeremy didn't even need to look at his picture to remember that he was the boy from earlier with the dark eyes and circles to match. He was about six foot one, and his file read that he was seventeen. It seemed with the bunch that he got from Kelly, they were all young adults. Emmett's file read that he had borderline personality disorder, which would make him a very difficult patient to deal with this summer. Jeremy had only ever dealt with one multi-personality person, and that was only for a few weeks. Dealing with someone who wasn't even one hundred percent multi-personality was dangerous, to say the least.
Just as Jeremy closed his last folder, he heard a knock at the door. Curiously, he glanced up and looked at the clock on the wall. It read 1:00 on the dot. Someone must have picked one of his children and sent him to his office for him. "Come on in," he spoke, picking up the folders and wheeling around in his chair to stack them on the shelf behind him.
The door creaked open slowly, and the young boy with the skater hair walked in, slowly shutting the door behind him. He didn't motion to look up at Jeremy, but stood silently in the middle of the room.
"Take a seat." Jeremy smiled, trying once again to appear friendly, as he motioned his hand to the chair across from his desk. "Don't worry about confessing anything this time around, I'm just going to get to know you." The boy only nodded to this, then took his seat. "What's your name?"
"Micah," The boy spoke so silently Jeremy felt bad asking him to repeat his name. "Micah, Micah Emerson."
"Ah." Jeremy turned around and plucked Micah's folder off of the shelf, flipping through the pages until he reached his quick bio and reason for being here. He was the thirteen year old antisocial child of his, not of Kelly's. "So, you're from Brushton. What's it like in New York?"
Micah shrugged, wrapping his arms over his chest. His big sweatshirt seemed to be making heat rise to his face, as Jeremy could see little beads of sweat falling down to the brim of his nose. This could also have been from anxiety of being there. "It's a lot of farms. A lot of people think there's skyscrapers towering over us everywhere, but there really isn't. We're all just farm people. If you're not... You're a nobody."
"Are you a farmer?"
"No," Micah spoke, looking up to brush the hair out of his face. "My grandfather and father are though. Sometimes he has me milk the dairy cows or round up the chickens. It's always my brother Todd who gets to do all of the tractor work."
"Have you asked your grandfather to let you use the tractor?"
Micah nodded. "Yes, but Todd always laughs and pretends he never heard grandfather tell him to let me use it."
Jeremy twisted his lips and nodded. He'd never really been around farms. "Well, coming out to Seattle seemed to be a big jump. That's across the country; why so far?"
"I don't know. Dad said it'd be good for me to see something that wasn't farms. I think he's disappointed that I'm not a farmer like him or my grandfather."
"How's your social life, Micah?"
"Like I said... If you're not a farmer, you're a nobody."
"You think you're a nobody because you're not a farmer?"
Micah bit onto his lip and tugged his arms tighter around his chest. He was uncomfortable being there and answering these kinds of questions. He stood up and pushed the chair back a little bit. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Michaels." The words he spoke were barely audible once more, but Micah turned and walked out the door, closing it silently behind him.
Jeremy glanced at the clock. Barely ten minutes into meeting Micah and he'd already had enough.
