Nobody's Listening

T W E N T Y - O N E

Luke and I exchanged an equally confused glance as we pulled on our shirts. “Holy shit,” Luke muttered, running his fingers through his hair exasperatedly.

I sighed. “I know,” I whispered before grabbing the condom off the table and giving it back to Luke. He took it with a disappointed look on his face that made me giggle.

He stood up, blushing furiously. “I… think I’ll go home. And pack. So maybe we can hang out a little while tomorrow, maybe even tonight,” he said softly, giving me a kiss on the forehead. "Call me when he's gone, okay?" He gave me a sad, crooked smile and took my hand. I let him lead me down the stairs to where James was waiting, a cocky grin in place. Luke turned to me once more at the door and gave me a mind-blowing kiss that I couldn't particularly respond to as enthusiastically. I pulled away and Luke sighed. "Nice seeing you, James, but I gotta go pack for Missouri. S'later, man?"

"Sure," James replied. He flipped his lengthening hair out of his eyes. They followed Luke out the door. The little red Mazda screeched out of the driveway and raced to Luke's destination.

We stood there in the silence. I stared at the wood floor, suddenly very interested in a scratch. I could feel James' intense gray stare on me, burning a hole in my heart. "So, what?" James piped up finally. My eyes snapped up to meet his. "I don't even get a hug after all this time?" His eyes softened and he held his arms open.

Numbly, I walked forward to meet him in an embrace. He pulled me closer, wrapping his long arms around my shoulders and holding me to his chest. I could feel his face pressed into my hair as he contoured his body around mine until it was a perfect fit. He breathed in deeply and sighed. "You changed your shampoo," he stated.

I nodded against his shirt. "Suave," I choked out. "You're suffocating me," I squeaked.

He laughed and hugged me tighter until letting me go. I staggered back a pace to get a better look at James Morgan. He hadn't changed as drastically as I thought he would. His hair had gotten a little longer, and a little thinner. His face wasn't as sallow, and it had filled out nicely. His eyes glowed, and the bags that once decorated the area under them were almost completely gone. He looked confident and a good deal happier than that last Sunday we'd seen each other. "I want to hear all about rehab," I said softly.

His smile faltered, but he led the way to the living room anyway, settling down on the plushier of the two couches. I sat down next to him, ready for his story. James took a deep breath and then began.

"Rehab was okay, I guess. I was kept in solitude for the first two weeks, just to get me healed up a little. Then, I was introduced to the food hall, which is where we all basically ate and hung out all day, unless we had to have medical procedures, or focus group. The first day I was out in the main part, I met a girl named Sam." He paused, smiling at his memories. I felt a twinge of bitterness that I had to push away.

He cleared his throat and continued. "Sam's great, you'd love her. She's feisty, but a good girl. She was there for bulimia. She'd been there since the beginning of summer. She's still there." He frowned and closed his eyes. "She was my best friend there," he whispered. I took his hand and his eyes flew open. The smile returned. "I went to focus group twice a day for a month, and when they said I was doing okay, they made me go back into solitude."

He shuddered. "The second round of solitude was pretty terrible, not gonna lie. I wanted to get rid of the majority of my scars, so I had to have surgery and skin restoring shit." He held out his bare arms for me to examine. I looked at them with interest. Most of the scars were gone, and the worst ones were very faint.

"Wow," I breathed, tracing my fingers over them.

"Yeah," he said, a smile in his voice. "They did a pretty good job on them. So around Halloween, I went back out to the main part. I had focus group three times a day for a week, and then I only went twice a day. They let me out about two weeks ago, and I would've gotten back then, but I had to go to court. My dad's in jail for abuse, and I got his house because I turned eighteen a month ago."

I groaned. "Ugh, that sucks, I missed your birthday?"

James laughed the same laugh I knew from before; loud and clear, not at all as dark as it had been after the incident. "Yeah, don't worry about it; the best gift ever was my dad going to jail, and the fact that I don’t have to go back to my mom's house."

He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "Rehab was not fun, though. This one guy, Tyler Phillips… he was there for a day and somehow found a way to kill himself amongst all those protected points and unbreakable glass and security systems. He fought his way up to the roof and jumped."

A chill ran up my back. "Holy shit," I murmured.

He continued to shake his head, hand tangled in his hair. "Yeah," he replied with a short chuckle. "Everyone there was so fucked up. Most of them couldn't even talk coherently. Some I never even saw, because they were always kept in solitude. Seriously, Sam was the only halfway normal person there…probably because she had been there so long. She said her parents weren't going to take her out until she either gained thirty pounds or turned eighteen. I think she decided to wait till eighteen, actually. Can't say I blame her, really. The poor girl had a shitty time just gaining the ten pounds that she managed.

"I'm so glad I'm finally out of there. It was too long. Way too fucking long." He laid his head back and let out a long sigh. "Three fucking months of rehab," he breathed. "Isn't that crazy?" He turned his head to look at me and smiled. "As soon as I got out, I went to go get a tattoo." He pulled his shirt up to his armpits. On the left side of his chest was a small peace sign. "Just a little reminder that I'm at peace with myself finally," he muttered, pulling his shirt back down and patting the area right above his heart.

I grinned. "It's very cute."

His cheeks turned pink and he looked away shyly. "Thanks."

I fought the urge to laugh at his awkwardness. "So, what'd you do when you weren't in focus group?"

James' gaze snapped back up to meet mine. "Focus group was about two hours long. Most of my free time was either spent with Sam or playing the piano that was set in an empty room. I could only see Sam during mealtimes and about an hour for mingle time. But other than that, we were separated because of gender. So I played piano a lot, and learned a lot of my favorite songs."

"When are you going to play for me?" I teased, giving his shoulder a small push.

He swayed exaggeratedly and ended up falling on top of my lap. "Soon," he replied softly. "Very soon."