what makes us tic

chapter six

anne woke me up the next morning, her cold hand shaking my shoulder as she hummed a melody.

"what time is it?" i groaned and rubbed my eyes, fatigue still weighing me down like a heavy blanket.

"6:00, school starts in an hour" anne said merrily as she flung open the curtains and let the bright sun bounce into my room.

i stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom, letting the water soak into my hair before lathering it up with shampoo.

i wrapped a light blue towel around my waist and headed back into my room to put together an outfit for the day.

"this may *june, july* sound *oOoO* like a stupid question but *ass* what does everybody (thwap) normally wear?" i asked anne as i rustled through my clothes.

i didn't mind being overdressed but i despised being underdressed, especially in a classroom with only 20 kids.

"most kids just wear sweatpants, shirts and sweaters" anne replied as she made breakfast in the small kitchen area at the front of living room.

"thanks" i replied and pulled out a pair of black sweatpants and a concert t-shirt.

i played with my hair a bit, it was still damp and my curls hit the side of my face, causing drips of water to run down my cheek.

anne handed me a plastic plate with two pieces of toast and an egg, pills and a large glass of water on the side.

"what are *THOSE* these for?" i asked her as i quickly sat down and put the plate slightly in front of me.

"haldol and wellbutrin" she answered and gestured at her watch, hinting that i needed to hurry.

"look it's raining" i ticked as soon as i lifted the glass and tossed water up into the air.

"now that ones a little funny" anne laughed as she threw me a hand towel.

i walked down the hall with the occasional tic but nobody really noticed, they were too busy with themselves.

i noticed most kids used walkers, a nurse would stand behind them in case they fell and cheered them on as their face scrunched in either pain or concentration.

the light oak door was already open, i walked inside and looked around at my classmates.

the first girl i noticed was hard to miss, she must have been about 500 pounds at only 5'3". she was heavily breathing as she used the desks as a crutch to walk across the classroom.

the boy she sat down beside looked completely healthy. he had short brown hair and brown eyes, his smile was nonexistent as he hugged his knees into himself.

another girl sat near the front, curly blonde hair that fell all the way down her back. as i got closer i realized the girl had a scar running across her face which definitely impeded her speech.

i saw dylan waving to me in the corner so i walked over and took the desk beside him.

"sleep good?" dylan whispered to me as the teacher began talking.

"very *fuck* funny" we both knew that neither one of us got more than two hours of sleep last night.

"seriously how are you finding the graveyard?" dylan asked as he leaned his head onto his hands, elbows propped up on the desk.

"ahh fuck you *thwap*"

"graveyard?" i asked, my mouth turning up in a smile as i scribbled notes in the spiral notebook.

"you're in the north, that's where they put the kids who they think need the least supervision" dylan explained, not writing anything in his paper book.

"that's it, that's it *smack*"

"there's the south which is the opposite and the east which is more mental, schools west" dylan explained, ignoring as i smacked my chest and threw my head back.

"where are you?" i asked, guessing at the answer in my head but not completely sure.

"south, the best side of course" dylan joked, his laugh was contagious.

"why is *fuck* it the best?" the teacher glared at us, turning away from the board for a second and then continuing to write.

"come hang out later, you'll see" dylan said as the teacher took a stack of papers off the desk and started to pass them out, leaving one at each desk.

the bell rang and aides came in through the door, walking over to their patient and helping them out. dylan's aide came over and grabbed the handles of his wheelchair, checking to make sure he was good before rolling him out of the room.

dylan was already in the classroom when i walked in, two other kids who looked much worse off than the others were also in the room.

one girl was in a very large wheelchair, strapped in many places with a talking computer sat on the clear plastic table attached.

the other boy was very frail, oxygen tank next to him that was the same light shade of blue as his lips.

i sat down next to dylan and he flashed me a huge smile, his shining white teeth and blue eyes sparkling.

"you following me drew?" he joked, his deep voice rasping with a chuckle.

"i can't stay *fuck* away" i joked back, slapping myself on my cheek and clicking my tongue twice.

that was the last class i had with dylan. for some reason i didn't quite understand i felt so much more comfortable ticking around him, the rest of the day anxiety creeped in every time i made a movement or sound.

i walked to my room at the end of the day holding my arms close to my chest and the pressure in my head almost unbearable.

i shut the heavy wooden door behind me and flopped down on the small couch, my tongue nonstop clicking as i hit my chest so many times it knocked the wind out of me.

my phone dinged loudly, i grabbed it with my left hand and held it in front of my face to read the message brightly lit in green.

room 308, 20 minutes - dylan

idk, i'm not good with new people - me

i liked you - dylan

i was on drugs - me

you really think there won't be drugs here ;) - dylan