Drown

Chapter 11

Three days later Greyson went to a doctor; who said his best bet was to go to an actual rehab.  Greyson didn't want to take medications, so that was really his only option.  At first Greyson refused it, saying that he wasn't that kind of crazy.  He wasn't,  but he was depressed, severly depressed.   So going to stay somewhere might be a good idea.   His doctor recommended a rehab three hours out of Chicago, called Havenbrook.  Greyson and I checked it out and thought it looked good.  We sent information about it to my mom too, just to be sure.

I called, and was lucky to find a spot for him there just a week later.  We filled out all the paperwork over the phone.

"Don't tell them I'm gay." Greyson whispered to me as I talked.  "They might think that's my problem."

That was actually a good thought.  So when she asked about his sexual orientation, I said he was straight.  Stereotypes aside, neither one of us were unusually effeminate.  So I didn't expect it to be hard for him to pass as a straight guy.

The next Saturday,  we drove three hours south of Chicago,  into a town call Butchfield, Illinois.  It was a small town, very rural.  We were a mile away from the rehab when Greyson told me to pull the car over.

"Grey, we're almost there.  You can't turn back."

"I'm not trying to."  he groaned. "Just pull over."

I did as he asked.   When the car stopped he looked at me with sad eyes and said,

"They can't see me kiss you goodbye."

I forced a weak smile.  Greyson unbuckled his seat belt and caught me off guard by climbing over the median and into my lap.  Then he grabbed my head and kissed me.  The kiss was full of passion and love, but neither of us got 'excited'.  Even with his body pressed so tightly against mine, we were both too sad to be horny.  This kiss was entirely emotional.  Greyson leaned a bit too heavily against the steering wheel, making the horn blare.  We both jumped as the silent air was shattered, ending the last kiss we would share for the next two weeks.  

We drove through two glossy, black gates and up a twisty driveway.  I stopped my car in front of the building; a large, army green house, with big windows and a wrap around porch.  There were a few people sitting on benches in the yard or chairs on the porch.  I looked them over before we got out of the car.  This place was said to be strictly for the clinically depressed instead of people who were legitimately crazy.  These people were much more likely to kill themselves than anyone else.  Luckily, the people I could see looked sad and harmless.  

We were greeted by a woman in scrubs and a man in a red tshirt and dress pants.  He had a grey beard and a balding head.  A nice, genuine-looking smile stayed on his face as he spoke.  He introduced himself as Jim Haven, the head and founder of this place, and the nurse as Stephanie.  He asked which of us was Greyson, then he asked who I was.  I told him I was just Greyson's roommate.  He explained a few things to us, then said I could go. 

"We'll take good care of your friend, I promise."  he said, placing a hand on Greyson's shaking back.

I had to hold myself back as I watched them walk away.  Greyson looked back at me before they went through the door.  I mouthed the words, "I love you." to him and put my right fist over my heart, but he didn't really get to see it.  The door closed, and Greyson and Jim Haven were gone.  It took me a minute to realize Stephanie was still standing there, and had definetly saw my loving gesture.

"We have a place for you to sit down if you'd like to.  It can be really tough leaving people you love at places like this."  She said, smiling softly.

"Thanks.  I'm fine."

"You know, it's so sweet of you.  He's lucky to have a friend who cares so much about him."  she said. "That is what you are, right?  Friends?"