"So how ya' feeling?"
"Like I'm a danger to myself and others," I said, earning a look from Ryan before he shrugged his shoulders in agreement.
"Mood."
"Right?"
We chuckled and silence took over as we sat engulfed in the sound of others. Visiting hours, my "favorite" time of day.
"Well come on, how's life on the outside? I need every drop of tea since I'm trapped in here with shitty cable and Natalie's midday suicide attempts to keep me entertained," I said leaning cozily into the chair.
Ryan gave me a dirty stare. Best friends since middle school and he's still not here for my humor. My hands up in surrender before giving him my best puppy dog eyes.
"You really are the worst aren't you," he said, giving me a smile.
"Yeah. But you know, I have an excuse." I twirled my finger at my head while making crazy eyes.
Ryan laughed, "Shut up!"
As of now I'm an inmate at St. Harold's Drug and Mental Rehabilitation Center. It's a thirty minute drive from school so Ryan has been coming to see me these past few days. It's the only thing I have going for me. Our time is usually spent fucking around with each other and the other residents. Giving me small escapes from this physical hell and the deeper, darker hell inside my mind. Ryan was my light... in a platonic way.
"Seriously though, how's life," I asked.
"School's not the same without you," Ryan said, I gave him a smile. "Everyone says hi. I thought I could get a handful to come today but they all bailed. They're all getting ready for Capstone presentations so they're dumb busy."
"Yeah, mine was almost done too until I went all 'fly like an eagle' off a building."
I laughed at my comment but Ryan was not amused, "Sorry self-deprecation is my way of coping."
Ryan rolled his eyes, "So have your parents been by yet?"
"HA!"
Every eye in the room turned to us as I threw my head back howling at the thought of my parents. They barely had time to pay attention to each other, I refuse to believe they'd notice me now.
"Now that's funny," I said wiping tears from the corners of my eyes. "You should be funny more often."
Ryan whined,"Mimi?"
I mimicked, "Ryan?"
He rolled his eyes for like the third time since our visit started before pulling at one of the forming dreads on his hair.
"You know my parents don't give a shit about me. And it's fine, they're footing the bill whether they realize it or not," I grinned showcasing the room with my arms.
"I'm pretty sure you'd get out of here sooner if you had a support system behind you."
"My guy, let's face it, you're my support team. Honestly, it's been like 2 weeks and I haven't even thought about death. Which is saying something for me."
Ryan reached over and intertwined my fingers with his own. "Damn straight. So do what they tell you and get outta here."
My lips curved upwards, and I gave his hand a soft squeeze. "I've always loved your optimism."
Ryan's lips parted and released a big, obnoxious smile. We released our hold on each other and I snuggled deeper into the armchair while he leaned back in his own, our eyes locked on each other.
