I get a knock on my door around 10:00 the next morning. It’s Dr. Hayward.
“Gerard? You can have your morning phone call,” she informs.
“M-morning phone call?” I ask, looking to Ray for guidance, but just seeing him sleeping soundly, covers off, and hands clasped in between his knees.
She smiles. “You get a morning phone call. To talk to family, friends…..” She’s quiet for a while, and then adds, “Boyfriends….”
“Yeah, I get it, you know I’m gay,” I mutter, rubbing my eyes.
“If you want, we have LGTBQ counseling,” she offers.
“No thanks,” I reply. My half-closed eyes shoot open as I realize, “My mom doesn’t know where I am!”
“Oh, honey don’t worry about that. We contacted her last night,” she tells.
“Did you…..” I’m afraid to ask, but push through. “Did you tell her I’ve been self-harming?”
She shakes her head. “I simply told her you were admitted by your boyfriend in concern for your mental health and will return in a minimum of 24 hours.”
“Thank God,” I breathe. I perk up, asking, “When’s visiting hours?”
“2:00-5:00,” she answers.
“Can my boyfriend come? Or just family?” I ask.
“Partners are okay,” she says. “But someone has to watch to assure he doesn’t slip you anything. That’s with anyone who’s not family, though.”
“I know who I’m going to call,” I mumble, getting up and heading for the phone.
The line rings a few times. Luckily, it’s Saturday, so he should pick up.
“Gee?” Frank’s voice answers. It’s groggy over the phone. Shit, I must’ve woken him up. Oh well, I really need to talk to him.
“Frank… you have to get me out of here,” I plead. “I hate it. My roommate’s a paranoid schizophrenic, a cute boy had to watch me change and everyone can see my pink underwear!”
Frank sounds like he’s about to say something, but stops midway to chuckle.
“You’re laughing?” I hiss disbelievingly.
“I’m sorry it’s just… shit,” Frank giggles. “I should’ve let you change undies before I took you there.”
“Frank! I’m in a psych ward! You put me here!” I accuse.
Frank stops laughing. “Gerard, I had to. You were out of control. You could’ve really hurt yourself.”
“Yeah, I could’ve, but I didn’t,” I retort.
“That’s beside the point,” Frank argues. “Look, if you’re going to get out of there, you have to promise me one thing.”
“Sure, anything,” I agree eagerly.
“No more self-harming of any type,” Frank replies.
I’m quiet for a long time.
“Gee? Are you still there?” Frank asks.
I nod, then realize that he can’t see that. “Yeah, I’m here,” I answer softly.
YOU ARE READING
Nododie's (frerard)
RandomBOOK 2 PEOPLE. Gerard's a bit of a misfit. He has zero friends to his name; unless his brother, who is a seventh grader weighing in at about 102 pounds, counts as one. Frank, spotting this awkward boy, decides to make his living Hell. Later, we find...
