Baker Boy

Chapter Twenty-Two

Eli was not a stranger to the idea of rehab. He had always known that it would be a possibility, but 'possibility' was the keyword – not 'reality'.

"Alright, everybody get up!" called one of the rehab centre's personnel.

Groaning, he sat up, the bed frame squeaking with his movement. There were a few other boys in his dorm, all three of them about his age.

They were down for group therapy today; that was when he would get to know all of them. He would also get to decide if they were friends or enemies.

Sleep clouded his vision. Back at the Academy, he never had to wake up this early. Most of his classes were in the afternoon, after his job at the Brew House.

Trying his best to stay awake, he grabbed his toiletry bag from where it was hanging and picked out a change of clothes. Then he shuffled along with the other boys towards the communal bathroom at the end of the hall – much like the one at the School of Visual Arts.

However, this toilet was a little different. The cubicles did not have doors; instead, there were these flimsy, translucent curtains that you had to stay far away from in order for them to work.

At least the showers were reasonably hot.

Quickly, Eli cleaned himself up and changed into a tracksuit that was somewhat regarded as the uniform in the centre. After that, he went over to the sinks to brush his teeth.

Breakfast was a cup of coffee, a bowl of cereal, and an apple. One of the boys at his table requested for orange juice instead. After he finished eating, he did not go for any seconds, choosing to sit silently at the table while sipping on his coffee.

The mess hall was silent, well silent enough that when the main doors opened, everybody turned to look. Escorted by two of the rehab centre's security staff was a police officer, one of those that were there when Eli was arrested.

He watched their exchange while taking a long drag of his coffee. Then one of the security guards pointed to him. That got his attention.

"Are you Aellius James Johnson?"

Eli nodded slowly. "I am."

The police officer waved the guards off and took a seat beside Eli. The other boys kept their heads down, but they were definitely listening intently. Eli kept his eyes trained on the far wall.

"Good morning, Mr Johnson," he said. "I'm Officer Thomas. I brought you in and was involved in your case."

Without meeting his gaze, Eli picked up the coffee cup and took another long pull. Officer Thomas sucked in a breath, slightly taken aback by his coldness.

"I have a message from your friend, Miss Adrianne Harper."

For a moment, he could not put a face to the name. The other boy, Deacon, he had always called her 'Andy' and so had Sarah and the customers.

"You recognise her, don't you?" Officer Thomas was studying his face intently.

Then he looked down and pulled out his wallet. He proceeded to extract a folded piece of paper from his stack of old receipts.

"She wanted me to pass this to you."

Trying his best to hide his trembling hands, he took the note and slipped it into his pocket, making a mental note to read it later.

"All the best, son," said Officer Thomas. He patted Aellius' shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze.

When Eli looked up, he found the gaze of one of the boys on him, the one who had the ends of his light blonde hair dyed a bright cobalt blue.

"What?" he snapped.

After the first five minutes of therapy, Eli was done with everything. Dr Peggy was a complete joke and whatever she was trying to do was not going to help them in anyway.

"So here's the thing about group therapy," she said. "The more you share, the more you're going to learn about everyone else."

Eli rolled his eyes.

"That's easy for you to say," retorted the boy with somewhat blue hair. "You haven't done what we have. You don't know what it's like."

"I'll take it that you do regret what you've done?" asked Dr Peggy. "Why don't you start? Tell us more about yourself."

"I'm Noah and I'm in here for a cocaine addiction."

"Good, keep going," said Dr Peggy, taking notes on her laptop.

"I used to be in a band and one of my friends – I don't know how he did it," Noah shook his head. "He started supplying us with drugs. With our parents thinking that we were playing gigs and all that, no one knew that we were getting all shitfaced down at the pier."

"There are so many better places to get high," retorted one of the other boys, the tall, lanky one. "This one time, I climbed up to the roof of the church and there was no coming down that night."

"Now boys, this isn't a boasting competition." She turned to address the new speaker. "Zach, would you like to share?"

Zach sat back in his chair, folding his arms. "I am in no way remorseful for what I did, but I'm too young to be put in jail for this shit and my family lawyer is amazing at exploiting that."

Shaking her head, Dr Peggy motioned for him to go on.

"Yeah, I got nothing. Just go to Dan."

Dan, the last boy with a stout frame and a mouth set in an unfriendly straight line. He looked up, regarded Eli for a moment, and then fixed his gaze on one of the floor tiles as he began to speak.

"I checked myself in here."

"And why is that?" questioned Dr Peggy.

Dan shrugged, looking a little more uncomfortable now that he had the attention. "My girlfriend and I were competing, seeing who could take more and she..." he stopped and licked his lips. "She overdosed."

His voice broke and he tried to cover it up by clearing his throat. However, the pressure of everyone watching him was too much.

"This isn't the first time I'm saying this," Dan broke down, burying his face in his hands. "And it doesn't get fucking easier." He swore again and accepted a tissue from Dr Peggy.

Eli waited for him to calm down.

"I wouldn't consider myself addicted," he started. "But I do indulge in some weed when life fucks me inside and out. I just have to find another outlet for my stress."

Dan took another tissue from Dr Peggy's hand.

"I got too into it one day and I beat up my co-worker, but to be fair, she was starting to get on my nerves."

"Why did she irritate you?" asked Dr Peggy.

Eli shrugged. "She kept trying to be perfect, kept bossing me around."

"Do you think she's perfect?" Dr Peggy pressed.

"If she stopped trying so hard and stopped telling me what to fucking do, then sure, I suppose she isn't that bad."

"Would you like her then?" asked Noah.

Eli smiled – a real, proper smile. "Not a bloody chance in hell."