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(Cary's POV)

The hours ticked by as I sat on the bed, finishing up the last chapter of The Lord of the Flies. I had been so bored that I actually enjoyed reading it, though I would never admit that to Cassie.

Katherine came in early that morning to give me the last bit of the new medicine, which had nearly completely eradicated my headache. "I guess this is the last time we'll do this," she said as she poured the capsules into my hand.

That was about three hours ago, but since then, I had cleaned myself up a bit and stared into the bathroom mirror for several minutes, examining every pore. I knew it wasn't healthy, but I couldn't help it.

The dark circles under my eyes were still very obvious, despite the many hours of sleep my body forced me to take. My lips, for the large part, had lost their color and my skin was slightly pale.

Despite my deathly appearance, I felt great. Today was finally the day I could leave this hellhole and go home.

Well, 'hellhole' may be dramatic, but I felt trapped. I wanted out, and fast.

I finally broke my stare from the mirror and washed my face, hoping to bring some color back into my skin and lips. I used the flimsy hospital comb to tame my unruly hair. It wasn't a brush, but it would have to do.

The clothes Cassie brought me were some of her own: green satin pants and a cropped black sweater that barely reached past my waist. We weren't the exact same size in clothes — she was just the slightest bit taller than me — but we shared a lot of them. These particular ones fit me like a glove, and I suddenly felt touched, as if putting them on was a warm hug from Cassie herself.

Green was her favorite color, and satin pants and sweaters were her go-to lounging clothes. She may not have done that on purpose, but it felt very intentional. And I appreciated it.

By the time I had finished The Lord of the Flies, it was nearly one o'clock. Katherine said that even though I was being discharged today, I had to have Darry come and officially check me out because he was my legal guardian or whatever. The time couldn't move fast enough.

So, for what seemed like hours, I just laid in bed and stared at the ceiling with nothing better to do. Draw? No, I'd rather watch paint dry. Try to sleep? Couldn't even if I wanted to. Read the book again? Over my dead body.

I don't know how long I sat there, mulling over my thoughts, but a slight, quiet knock on the door broke me out of them.

I sat up, swinging my legs over the bed, hoping it would be Katherine to say Darry had come early to check me out. But Katherine's knocks weren't that quiet. They seemed sheepish and shy.

"Come in," I said, and when the door opened, my chest tightened up in anxiety and excitement.

"Hey," Johnny said quietly as he stood in the doorway as if waiting to be invited inside.

"Hey," I repeated and he looked at me for a few seconds before rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

It had only been a few days since I had last seen Johnny, but it felt like forever. He looked like a mess — his eyes scanned over the room anxiously and his hands held a steady shake. The poor guy looked like he'd been scared straight on the way here.

"Johnny, what's wrong?"

"N-nothing," he started his way into the room, "I was just passing through and thought I'd stop by." He gave me a crooked smile which I knew was to hide his nervousness.

I sighed, deciding that now was as best of time as ever. "Listen, Johnny, I'm really sorry about what Soda said the other day," I paused, expecting him to interrupt me, but he just stayed quiet and looked at me. I continued. "He shouldn't have said that. He didn't mean it, I promise."

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