Some Days

Chapter two

Once finished, Carolina looked around uncomfortably. At school were all the cliques; was it the same at a psych ward?  She glanced at Harry for guidance, only to see him dragging his feet to a table in the far corner. “Ms. Johnson, you can sit with Harry,” She grabbed her by her forearm and more or less dragged her to his table. “Mr. Styles,” She clicked her tongue at him as she spoke, although Harry had his head down concentrating hard on the table.  “Not a very good host, are we,Mr.Styles?" Harry's head snapped up at the doctor approaching him and had to stop from groaning.  Dragging her feet behind Ms. Anderson was Carolina, looking around uncomfortably, clutching the cardigan around her. "Sit, Sit, Carolina!" Ms. Anderson insisted, pushing her down into the seat. She glanced around. “Well, we don’t usually do this but...” She trailed off, smiling,as she glanced over her shoulder at the busy workers around her. She grabbed a small notebook out of the front pocket of uniform—the cheap dollar store ones that had a kitten on it-and handed it to Harry. “We usually don’t do this, since it’s not helping the patients,but for Harry.” She turned to Carolina. “it’s been two years so.” She shrugged,handing the two pens before walking away. Carolina bit her lip,glancing at Harry. His face had turned a dark red and he was shaking his head, glaring at the table. Is this how they treat everyone? Carolina wondered,bitting her lip, they sure weren’t nice.  Harry snatched the pad of the table and began writing, a second later pushing it back to her. Written in slanted letters was, Why are you here? She shook her head,if she wasn’t going to talk about it, she certaintly wasn’t going to write it on paper. ‘Oh yeah, my names Carolina and I’m here for an eating disorder. Let’s be best friends.’ That sounds great, doesn’t it, lets scare off the one person who will talk to me.  She grabbed her pen and scratched his writing out quickly, throwing it back at him in her messy writing, Why are YOU here? She pushed it back to him, nibbling her lip as he picked his pen up again. A white-coat man approached the table again, and she automatically became tense. His badge on his coat indicated his name was Carl. “Here you go.” He said, plopping two trays down infront of them. On it was burnt toast, orange juice and an over-easy egg that looked like it had been through hell and back. They didn’t really eat this, did they? She looked around to see if this was some kind of joke, or if someone was going to pop out and tell her she was on Punk’d. But no one did. Everyone slowly picked up their forks and tried their best to dig into it. She looked at it, wondering how she was possibly going to do anything with this, when the notepad was slid to her again. She glanced up, seeing Harry slowly pick up the toast and rip the crusts off.  I asked you first. She rolled her eyes, how old were they? Employees were walking around, their arms folded over their chest, craning their necks to see their plates, occasionally checking a clipboard they had. Self-conscious, she pulled her cardigan tighter around her, trying to hide her bulging stomach. The last thing she needed was food. But when Carl came by again, his pen ready in his hand, she picked up her fork and moved her eggs around, trying to look like she was interested in it. When it was clear, she threw her fork down and picked up the pen, how old are we again? She pushed it towards him.  He wrote back again, you aren’t eating. I’m guessing you’re here for an eating disorder?  Her mouth dropped. Who did he think he was? Didn’t he have any manners? She shook her head, considering writing about how his wrist is bandaged so he must cut himself. She shook her head, she wasn’t going down to his level. Instead, she scratched it out, until you couldn’t see any of it left, and instead, drew a tic tack toe board. She drew an X in the middle, indicating that was her, and that she was first. She scooted it towards him with force as she popped a grape from the small bowl on her plate in her mouth to prove she could eat. She looked at him for the first time. He definitely wasn’t bad looking. He had brown, curly hair and was tall, isn’t that what lots of people looked for with a boyfriend? Besides the fact that she hadn’t heard him speak yet, and had no idea what his voice sounded like, or if he was smart or funny. Judging by his looks, though, her friends would be all over him. If they had met at the mall, no doubt would her friends approach him with no problem, flirting with him as if it was nothing.  He’d like it too, and if she tried, he would definitely rather go out with her skinny, size zero, blonde friends, making her look like a whale in front of them. She looked at him again,to see him roll his eyes but smile for a half a second, drawing an ‘O’ in the top left corner. He pushed it back, and she quickly claimed the middle bottom, handing it back. She took a stab at her egg, tearing it apart, giving the illusion that she had eaten. Harry slid the pad over as someone plopped next to Carolina, making her jump. “You’re Caroline, right? You’re new?” She glanced at Harry who rolled his eyes and was taking his anger out on his egg, repeatedly stabbing it. “Uhm, Y-yeah, M’names Carolina.” She nodded, “My names Micci. What’re you here for?” Carolina looked around uncertain, was that everyone’s go to question instead of talking about the weather. “Well, uh—“ Harry slammed his cup down, making Micci jump. “Oh, Hi Harry.” She sighed, a wide smile on her face. She obviously had a crush on her. She wouldn’t blame Harry if she did- she had long curly blonde hair down to waist, bright blue eyes, and was easily a size zero. She also had no obvious signs of why she was here; no bandages on her wrist, no scars, and was confident enough that she doubted she had an eating disorder. “Harry’s not much of a talker, is he?” She giggled, and Carolina smiled weakly at her. “Why don’t you come sit by us, we actually talk.” She winked. Carolina looked around for an excuse not to, when she didn’t have to. A nurse called out to her, shaking a small Dixie cup of pills, while Micci skipped to the nurse as if she was going to accept an award, not getting a cup of pills. The pad was shoved roughly to her again, and above the game they were playing was, you don’t want to talk to Micci. Just trust me on this.  She scrunched her eyebrows, quickly writing back a Why? Before the nurse came by again, “Carolina, why don’t you finish eating and then worry about being friends with people, hmm? We’re more worried about getting you better than you becoming friends.” With that he took the pad and shoved it into his pocket. Carolina sighed, she knew Harry wasn’t going to straight out talk to her, and they couldn’t talk to her…and the doctor had just admitted in front of all the pateints that she was here for treatment of her eating disorder. She let her hair fall in front of her face and peeked at Harry from out of it. Did he think she was a total freak? I bet he’s smirking like crazy, enjoying this. When she finally got the courage to look up and see him, he wasn’t smiling happily, but was concentrating on his toast as if his life depended on it.  Doctors came along now, collecting dirty plates, writing on their clipboard. She gulped, panicking, holding her breath as they came by. Carl tsk when he saw her plate, but accepted it, clearing it into a bin, before making a note on the board. “Next time, you won’t be sitting by Mr. Styles.”  She groaned, looking around to see what people would do now. “W-what now?” She asked Harry, but instantly regretted it, knowing he wasn’t going to say anything to her. She slammed her fist on the table, making Harry jump and doctor’s crane their neck to see if they would need to come in. “Fucking ridiculous.” She muttered, walking away, again, pulling her cardigan close to her.  Harry looked down at the table, disappointed in himself, that he couldn’t say anything. The doctor’s had long given up on him; and threatened to kick him out soon if he didn’t make any progress, or at least try and do something.  But how could they expect him to wake up one day and just be miracously cured and talking? One thing’s for sure though, he had to stay here and get better, because this was his only home, he had nowhere to go if this didn’t work out.