Rehab, Actors & Love

The Visitor

Della's POV

I'm still under strict watch. So strict, Evan comes into my room and makes sure I eat. Jack and Jason have come to the center every day after school. Usually, a person under suicide watch isn't allowed visitors as often as the boys come see me, but Evan pulled some strings.

I sighed when Evan knocked on my door before slowly opening it. "Hey, kiddo. You hungry?"

"The answer is always no," I mumbled as I put my book aside. I looked up when I heard him sigh.

"You. . ." He started.

"Have to eat anyway," I finished for him. "I always do."

He sent me an unamused look before handing me the tray of food. I tucked my feet under me and put the food on my bed.

I slowly started eating the sandwich, tearing off little pieces. The whole time I ate, Evan didn't move. I sighed as I put my sandwich down and looked up at him.

"You don't have to watch me eat. I finish my food every time. You know that."

He sighed as he pulled my desk chair over to the side of the bed and sat down. "I'm just trying to understand," he said softly.

"Understand what?"

"Why you did this," he said, his voice breaking. "Why did you take those pills? I thought. . . I thought you were getting better. Please, help me understand, Adeline."

Oh boy. He never calls me by full name. This is bad.

I looked away from his gaze, slightly messing with the chips on my plate. Of course I knew the answer. I knew why I took those pills. I knew why I did what I did. What I didn't know was whether or not I'd be able to say it out loud.

"I understand, well I can at least try to understand what it must be like to finally know who caused the accident," Evan said when I didn't respond. "But, it can't be because of him. Can it? I mean, he was an egotistical actor who thought he owned the world. He walked in here thinking he didn't need help so he refused to take it."

"He wasn't like that with me," I cut him off. I bit my lip when I looked up at Evan. "At least. . . I mean, he was like that at first. I don't know. He was. . . Changing. Before he left."

"I didn't know," Evan mumbled.

"How could you?" I shrugged, tears threatening to fall. "I keep a lot of things bottled up. Especially about. . . Feelings."

"Feelings?" Evan repeated. "Della, were you. . . Did you start to fall for Dylan?"

I looked up at him, nervously biting my lip. "Maybe?" I shrugged. "I just. . . I don't really know. But, I think so."

"Wow," Evan said under his breath. "I had no idea."

My cheeks burned when I saw the way he was looking at me. "It doesn't matter," I stuttered. "He's gone and I doubt he felt anything. He left and went back to his normal, playboy, Hollywood Star life. Dylan forgot about me the second he left the center."

"Don't say that," Evan sighed. "You don't know that."

"Sadly," I scoffed, "I do."

"No, you don't."

I looked up, surprised by the harshness in his voice. "Evan," I stuttered. "What are you. . ."

"I called him."

"You what?"

Evan looked at me and took a deep breath. "I called Dylan. I thought he deserved to know what happened to you."