Grayson's Body

Mental

Chapter 10: Mental

Mental

1

[men-tl]

adjective

1. of or relating to the mind: mental powers; mental suffering.

2. of, relating to, or affected by a disorder of the mind: a mental patient; mental illness.

3. providing care for persons with disordered minds, emotions, etc.: a mental hospital.

There was a lot more people talking in Biology than on an average day as I walked in but it seemed more pensive than usual. It wasn't discussions on who was dating who, who did what, or who did who. People were talking about Friday night, about the inferno.

"I heard Needy and Grayson were there, and they had to fight their way out with a freakin' machete."

"Look," I heard a girl say slowly, "he's not even moving."

"It's called post-traumatic stress disorder. My dad was in operation Enduring Freedom, and he totally, like, stopped talking for, like, months."

"Whoa."

I sat down on the plastic seat beside him. There was a noise of someone coughing a few seats behind us. I heard that and blinked, looking at Grayson next to me. He was concentrating on nothing in particular. I frowned at the dark circles under his eyes.

He was staring at the blackboard, his jaw tense, his left hand balled into a fist. It was resting on the table. I could sense that it wasn't from anything I had done, and not from anything anyone else had done either. Maybe not, though. It was weird. I didn't get it.

We were at one of the slick black toped science tables on the left side in the front. I lifted my book bag onto the glossy surface and went through it. I pulled out my Biology IV book, the cover slightly worn in my hand, and I placed it on the table. I got out my pencil, my notebook, and my planner.

People were talking about the fire.

"I can't believe it," I heard a voice. It sounded shocked, pained almost.

"Yeah, they can't even find out what caused it. I bet someone set it on fire."

"No, way. It had to be an accident. Do you know how old that bar is? I mean, was?"

"I think everyone knows about it by now. Did you see all the flowers that they placed at the scene? All the of the people going there is messing with the investigation or something."

"How?"

"Like, I don't know, the scene is being screwed up. They've completely blocked off the area now, so nobody can get through."

I flipped my notebook open and it landed on one of the blank white pages. I let myself glance up at Grayson again. He was looking at me, his hazel eyes unmoving from my face.

"Are you okay?" I asked as I tore out one of the pages, "You look kind of tired."

He blinked and turned his head away to face the board again, a half-smirk tugging at his lips, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night."