We're All Crazy Here, Darling

Beginnings

The blaring sound from my alarm clock shook me out of my sleep. Fatigue wanted me to close my eyes for a few more minutes but I knew I only had about twenty minutes to get ready and go downstairs to leave with James to avoid Mary and Scott.

Today marked almost a month since moving here and everything has gone surprisingly well. James and Jeremy have been circling around each other and Nicole and I are about two seconds away from locking them away and not letting them out until they deal with the sexual tension that was capable of suffocating everyone around them. Stacey has now made a game for herself to see how much she can flirt with me in a single period and it is both driving me crazy and making me feel on top of the world. Maxine and Raphael are cute to watch and it's easy to imagine them staying together after high school, especially after seeing them take care of Max's brothers at one of their soccer games I was invited to. The way those little boys looked at Maxine and Rapahel, you would think they were their parents.

Bringing myself out of my thoughts, I rolled out of bed, landing soundlessly on my feet, and went to rummage through my closet for something to wear. I settled on channeling my inner Winchester and put on a plain white tee with a red, worn flannel over the top and simple denim jeans with my Timberlands. I brushed my hair and teeth, wondering if we had enough time to stop at McDonald's on our way to school.

I gotta get some Mickey D's.

I took the bright orange pill bottle and placed a few in my hand then knocked them back, not needing water anymore to help swallow them. The routine grounded me and helped me find the motivation to fight through today. Well, that and McDonald's.

Around three years ago, I was diagnosed with something called Intermittent Explosive Disorder or IED. Basically, I could snap at the drop of a hat and go into some sort of rage. It didn't matter who it was or when or where I was, anything that I could perceive as a threat set me off. Big time. When I was diagnosed, James did all this research and helped me do exercises to calm down when I was angry since I wouldn't talk to a therapist. Eventually, I ended up having to go to one after it was court-mandated when I flipped over a desk and a few chairs during the trial of that bastard who hurt James. Then I got prescribed this medicine that helped somewhat but it sometimes caused weird mood swings from where I'm hypersensitive to what I'm feeling to just feeling nothing at all.

I didn't know which one was worse.

I had worried for a long time that I wouldn't be able to have any kind of serious relationship out of fear that the meds would stop working and I could hurt them without meaning to. I've avoided forming any kind of attachment to others besides James, the only other person besides Scott and Mary who knew about me. Well, until Stacey and the others.

Quickly, I grabbed my phone and my bag and rushed down the stairs. James was waiting at the door, looking agitated and impatient.

"Hurry up, Ryan, you're going to make us late," he grumbled.

I rolled my eyes, "Whatever, grumpy," But I did try to move slightly faster as I followed him to the car.

He slammed the door close as he got in, making me jump. "Who pissed in your cereal this morning, sunshine?"

"No one," he grumbled.

I'm convinced.

"Ooookay," I drew out the word, raising an eyebrow in his direction, "then what's bothering you? I'm supposed to be the one that's angry all the time. You can't just take my thing,"

He rolled his eyes, "I don't want to talk about it,"

I scowled, "Is it because of Scott or Mary?"