Ten | newtmas

twenty one

I've almost become used to not seeing Thomas at the table for breakfast. I can pretty much hold a conversation with any of the Normals now, if they feel like talking. Frypan is polite, he tells me a bit about his progress. He can probably sense I'm also looking to get better.

Him and Aris are in the EDU, but eat and hang out with us since they're medically cleared and the wings are right next to each other. Frypan has been here for quite a few months, but he expects to leave soon. At this point, he works here more than he's a patient. He's lucky, he came here knowing his problem and how to fix it. Some of us aren't that fortunate.

I'm making smalltalk with him and Chuck about my family therapy tomorrow when the door opens, and we all look to it. I can't help the way my eyes widen and my jaw slacks a bit as he walks in, timidly making his way to the table.

"Hey, guys," Thomas says, his eyes scanning all of our faces. When he lands on me, I close my mouth quickly, trying to collect my shock.

Chuck quickly getting up from his seat makes me jump, watching him run over and hug the older boy. He looks tired and vaguely ill, his t-shirt hanging extra loosely off of his body. While he hugs Chuck, he rubs his back, speaking to him.

"How've you been, buddy?" he asks, Chuck pulling away.

"Same as always, shuckface," Chuck says. "What about you?"

    "I'm alright," Thomas says, Chuck walking him over to sit down.

    Of course, Thomas takes a seat directly next to me, Chuck sitting to his left and me to his right. The rest of the group says their hellos, but I miss them, trying not to focus on the elbow brushing against my forearm.

    He says hello back to them, Frypan getting up to retrieve his food. There doesn't seem to be any of the hostility he thought there'd be, even if it is a bit awkward. They don't look angry at him, though. I'm grateful for it, especially for Chuck's benefit.

    "So, Newt, how's your first week been?" Thomas asks, turning to me. His tone is half sarcastic but also genuine, and his face is a little too close to mine.

    I almost laugh at the question, but decide that it might not be the best idea. "I can safely say that it's been the most unusual of my life," I say.

    "You're not here for usual," he says, bumping my knee softly with his. Usually it'd bother me, but it's forgotten quickly when he continues talking. "Have you had any progress?"

    "I'm not sure. I'm still doing my tens, I don't feel like my problems have vanished," I say. All I want to ask, though, is where on Earth he's been for nearly a week.

    "So, no big revelation yet?" Thomas asks. "Give it time, and stick with me."

    I subtly gulp. "Alright."

    Thomas flashes a small and very private smile in my direction, then turns back to the others, starting to catch up with them. The backflip my heart does is more than concerning. Anxiety will apparently never be a thing of the past.

I only get a few weird looks as I walk into the recreation room after breakfast, trailing behind the rest of the group. It's not because of my tens, either.

    Every day for the past week, I haven't hung out with everyone else. Usually there'd be nobody to talk to, or I wanted to write in my journal. But today, I go.

    "Newt, you're joining us? Thank you for gracing all of us lowly beings with your presence," Minho says dramatically, bowing his head as I pass his seat.