j a k e
"George," I whisper, tugging on his shirt again in attempt to get his attention. "Can we please just go home?"
George looks up from the papers he's sorting through. I feel horrible for pestering him, but at this point, I'm holding down a panic attack. George sighs and squeezes my arm, "Jake, I have to talk to the police. Why don't you go with Cleo?"
"I want to go with you," I insist. I feel bad for saying that since Cleo is standing by, probably listening in, but right now I don't want to be around anyone. I just want George to take me home before I puke.
George looks back at Cleo, who just sends him a shaky smile. She holds up the phone she has in her hand, "My mom's outside."
"I'll walk you out," I say. I take her hand in a loose grip, leading her outside. When we're out, I see her mom's car parked by the two police cars.
I sigh heavily, rubbing my eyes. Cleo takes both my hands and leans her forehead against mine, breathing at the same pace as me. I let go of her hands in favor of embracing her tightly.
"I'm so sorry, Cleo," I say into her hair.
"Don't say sorry," she whispers back.
I pull away and kiss her. I feel her smile sadly against my lips before we both finally pull away. Cleo gives me a quick wave before skipping down the stairs to the clinic, to her mother's car, where her mother's waiting outside. They hug tightly as soon as Cleo reaches her, and I take that as my cue to leave.
When I walk back in, I notice George occupied with the police. I've already told my story to them when they first arrived, which had been a horrible experience, especially since I wasn't even sure what had exactly happened- I'm still not too positive.
I walk by the police, ignoring the look George shoots at my direction. I walk up the stairs, reaching the top in record time. Typing in the code to get into the teenage compound, I slip in, making my way towards the boy's corridor.
Luckily, Derek's room is before where Andrew's was, so I don't have to pass by the room. It's almost two, so he's probably finishing up therapy, so I decide to wait for him in his room. Opening his door after a quick knock, I find it far from empty, though.
Samantha and Danny are seated cross legged on Danny's bed. Danny looks up when I enter, but Samantha's too occupied dealing cards. Danny gives me a small grin and a wave. I give him a small smile back and sit down on the bed with the siblings.
"Where'd you get the cards?" I ask.
"A worker gave them to use as something to do since activities are cancelled," Danny explains with a shrug.
Samantha holds up the remaining cards, silently asking me if I want to join. I quietly decline.
"You here for Derek?" Danny asks as Samantha proceeds to finishing dealing.
I nod sheepishly, "I wanted to see how he was doing after... you know."
"I know," Danny says. "Hell, everyone knows. You would not believe how quickly gossip travels around this nuthouse."
I nod silently. At this point, I don't even want to think about the suicide. Every time I hear the word, I have to hold down vomit. Luckily, Danny doesn't get a chance to bring it up again because all three of us go silent when the door to the room slowly creaks open. In walks Derek, looking worse than I've ever seen him before.
Sure, I've seen Derek in pretty bad states. The first time I met him, for example. He was completely soaking wet, eyes dark and confused, and body small. But now? He's scary.
