Unlikely Places

Chapter 8 Nosy Curiosity

Not much had been said since Nurse Rosie interrupted our conversation. I still wasn't quite sure why Pierce was putting most of the blame for my health on my friends, but since it seemed to be such a sore subject to him, I didn't bring it back up. I just wanted to go home.

A few hours later, once the IV solution bag had been emptied and a few more tests run, I finally got my wish.

Checking out took a little longer than checking in but I was pretty sure the process was still speedier than average. Nurse Rosie insisted on pushing me out to the car in a wheelchair. It was something I could have done without but one look at Pierce and I had decided not to argue.

As we approached, I saw Cissero's large head sticking outside the car window and the sight of his happy face was just what I needed. I was able to give him a loving nuzzle before I slipped into the backseat. Pierce climbed in across from me and in seconds we were in motion.

I sat stiffly, staring out the window at the blurs of color on the other side. I was tired and famished. I was also very much aware of the man who sat next to me.

"How long have you been taking medication for your anxiety?" Pierce murmured from his side of the car.

My head swiveled toward him. He wasn't looking at me but out the window. He sounded calm, maybe even bored. Was this his way of making small talk? A bit personal I thought, but mentally shrugged. It was Pierce after all, boundary crossing was probably one of his hobbies.

"Awhile," I answered.

He didn't turn to look at me but I saw his mouth compress. He obviously hadn't liked my answer.

"How long is a while?" he persisted.

I sighed out loud. He was a like a bulldozer.

"Since before high school," I gave in and answered.

It wasn't as if I was trying to hide it and it was nothing to be ashamed of. Some people had difficulty coping with certain things in life and needed a little help. I just happened to be one of those people. Story over.

I watched him nod with his face still turned away from me. Even though I could only see half of his expression, I could easily tell he still wasn't happy. That kind of made me mad.

"Taking anxiety medication doesn't make me weak," I said into the continuing silence.

Pierce swiftly turned to look at me as I spoke with a look of surprise.

"I didn't say it did," he replied.

"Well your expression seemed to be implying it," I retorted, turning away from him to stare out my own window.

"Jackson, seriously," he said, "I don't think it makes you weak."

I grimaced. I didn't know why but I didn't believe him. It was probably because he seemed so strong and dominant and very much in charge. He hadn't hesitated provoking me last night despite my being surrounded by a third of a football team. I'm sure I looked and acted like a puny weakling in comparison to someone like him.

As I stared out the window, I began to explain to him what had been explained to me and my parents so many years ago when the topic of me starting a prescription medication came up.

"Anxiety doesn't mean I am mentally unstable. It doesn't mean I am not intelligent and it doesn't mean I can't live a normal life. It just means sometimes I get a little more stressed, for lack of a better word, than others. The medication helps to alleviate that stress."