The Nerd's Secret |Ongoing|

☫ Chapter 20 ☫

☫ Chapter 20 ☫

I focused on my heartbeat rather than the incredulous look Dr. Robertson was giving me.

     My heart rate was beating a bit too rapidly, to the extent that I needed to level it. I sucked in a breathe, calming myself down so I wouldn't blow things out of proportion. I needed to relax for a moment. Just a moment would do. Dr. Robertson's eyes were stern and demanded some sort of logical reasoning behind me having a hold of drugs. His eyebrows were drawn together and his forehead creased.

     I needed to be smart.

     "It's not what you think," was my rushed and ridiculous reply.

     "I hope it's not," Dr. Robertson answered in a scolding manner. My cheeks flamed up in embarrassment. I was never in a situation like this before. I looked down at the floor, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. He continued speaking, "Because what I'm thinking is that this fifteen-year-old boy who appears responsible and smart is doing something that's definitely not responsible and smart."

     I looked up at him, my mouth opened, my lips parting, preparing a response but my voice getting caught in my throat. "I..." I couldn't speak. I tried to. But every time I attempted to utter a word it got swallowed back. Not a sound would leave my mouth. My stomach fluttered anxiously, feeling uncertain and adding to the pit of emotions that weighed me down all day. I want to leave. My breathing quickened. I want to get out of here.

     "You know when you came here that one time reeking of alcohol with your eyes red and puffy I thought to myself, he's a teenager, I'll let it slide this once. But now you're coming in here looking lost and confused with drugs in your bag. To be honest, I'm not quite sure what to tell you. Should I be calling your parents?"

     My expression dropped. I slumped down onto my seat feeling defeated. Parents. I loosely chuckled, hearing the desperate croak of it. I sounded so pathetic. I covered my eyes with the palms of my hands. "My parents?" I repeated in a whisper. I could barely hear myself because for some reason I didn't sound like myself. My voice was tired. I was tired. "No, that's alright."

     His eyes then flickered with an emotion and it then stayed there. Dr. Robertson didn't hide his feelings. He didn't look at anything in particular and then suddenly he said.

     "You remind me of my son." His tone was light, it was gentle. Nostalgic. "He had a lot of potential, you know? Top of his class, driven. He'd stayed away from the wrong crowd. Always listened to me and his mother. Never went past curfew. He was a good kid. Really cared about others." He stopped talking. I could hear the crack in his tone.

    I snuck a glance at him, realizing that he was using the word was when describing him. My heart clenched at the familiar pain.

     "My mom too," I continued for him. "She was...she was the best." I closed my eyes for a moment, remembering the last time she smiled at me. Her lips softly pressed against one another as she offered me a toothless grin. I love you, Jeremiah. Her voice echoed in my mind. I love you too. I wanted to tell her that. I couldn't tell her that, though.

     Not when she closed her eyes and couldn't hear me.

     "He eventually fell into the pressure. The expectations."

     "She got a diagnosis."

     "Then he started getting into drugs. I didn't realize until it was too late."

     "No one told me anything. Not even what it was. Just that it was a rare form."

     "He overdosed."