I didn't take my meds today.
Two days ago Caitlin Adams asked if I was bipolar because I was into her on Monday but by Friday I had figured out that she was too demanding.
But those words, that question... it seeped into my soul and tarnished my tho...
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I WAS SCARED.
Am I a terrible person for admitting that?
Everything was white here and clinical, the smell of iodoform singed the hairs inside my nostrils but Jordan waltzed down the corridors like this was his second home.
His iced coffee swished around a plastic Starbucks cup and brand new sneakers squeaked against the floor. He knew his way around the building well.
We reached a reception desk where a young lady typed into her computer with really long, pink barbie nails.
I stood behind Jordan, practically hiding away from her intimidating beauty. Immaculate blonde hair swayed loosely down her back every time she moved her head, her superior sense of fashion and minimal makeup made me feel like a bag of trash in comparison. Scratch that, I was a bag of trash in comparison.
"Welcome back gorgeous, I'll check you in now." He smirked at her, a flirty glint in his eyes but then sucked up tan liquid up through his straw and raised his eyebrows cockily to me.
She stood up from behind the desk and opened up some of the filing cabinet drawers. With a bang she placed two pairs of canvas slippers down on the desk.
"You know the drill. No sharp objects past that point, please dispense them into these buckets and no laces, belts or ties. Swap your shoes out for these slippers, one size fits all."
I untied my laces and pulled off my shoes while Jordan emptied his keys and belt into the bucket. She tapped her nails against the plastic edge rhythmically in an irritating way.
"How's Liam?"
"He's fine." I answered causing them both to look at me strangely. I realised her question was directed towards Jordan and not me. Again, Jordan took a sip of his iced coffee before answering her.
"He's going through some problems at the moment." I stood up, dropping my shoes into the basket and furrowed my brows at Jordan. He cupped his mouth with his hand and whispered "Erectile dysfunction" not at all quietly. The receptionist gasped and rubbed his arm like this was horrific news. I rolled my eyes.
"Yeah, he's leaving Olive high and dry, it's very stressful on them both. But you know what might help? If you gave him a call, he'd like to know he's got people there to support him through his tough time." She nodded sympathetically.
"Can we see Arlo now?" I interrupted snarkily.
She smiled gracefully "of course sweetheart." She pressed in a combination on a keypad and the door clicked open, she let each of us walk through first before the door slammed closed behind her.
The demons in my mind told me I was locked in with no escape but I swallowed down the fear and continued pushing myself through the unit regardless of the walls closing in on me.
