The New Boy In Town

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Della's POV

I was sitting on my computer, headphones in, listening to my playlist. I looked up when I heard the door that never moves, open. Something felt oddly familiar about the boy who walked in.

There was an older man with him. Well, he looked a lot older than he probably was. He also looked like a tired babysitter. I watched as the older guy looked over his shoulder, making sure the guy about my age was still following him.

The man stopped walking and cleared his throat when the boy stopped to check out a nurse. I held in a laugh when the man reached over and slapped the back of the boy's head.

"Whoa!" The boy jumped, turning around. "What the hell was that for?"

"Keep up," the man sighed, not at all phased by how the boy treated him.

The boy sighed dramatically as he started dragging his feet. He looked up, his eyes scanning the room. He sent me a smirk when our eyes met. I rolled my eyes before turning back to my computer.

From over the top of my screen, I could see the boy still watching me. I let out the breath I was holding when the older guy grabbed the boy's arm and started pulling him into the main office.

They shut the door and started talking to one of the center's head doctors. I tried to focus on something else, but I couldn't help but wonder why he was here and where I knew him from. I successfully distracted myself, my thoughts drifting away from the boy in the office.

Until the office door slammed open.

The boy left the office, anger radiating off of him. "Wait," the man sighed, chasing after the grown boy having a tantrum.

"No!" He yelled, quickly turning around. "I'm not staying here."

"It's court-mandated, alright? It's either that or you get sent to rehab in prison."

Prison? Damn, what the hell did this kid do to get threatened with that?

"As far as I can tell," the brown-haired boy scoffed, "this is prison."

"Well, you should have thought about that before. . ." The man let the sentence drop as he sent the kid a knowing look.

"The partying, the drinking, the fun. Yeah, Charles, I get it."

"Look," the guy the kid referred to as Charles sighed, "I know this sucks, but. . ."

"But what?" He interrupted. "Things could be worse?"

"Yes," Charles said, grabbing the boy's arm to keep him from walking away. "People here have it way worse than you."

Charles sighed as the boy rolled his eyes, pulling his arm out of Charles's hold. "Listen, Dylan, you messed up. We're just lucky no one got hurt. This time. You have been running around, acting like life doesn't come with consequences. Well, hate to break it to you, kid, but it does. Now you have to act like an adult and take them."

"By being here?" The boy, Dylan, scoffed. "I'm sure they can work miracles here."

My breath got caught in my throat when Charles looked over at me and smiled.

"You never know."

* * * * *

A little while later, I was sitting in the music room playing the piano. Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I mouthed the words, wanting nothing more than to be able to sing along.

I was so focused on the melody, I wasn't aware that the door opened. I only knew that someone had come inside when I heard Evan, one of the physical trainers, start talking.

"This is the music room. Not many patients use it," he laughed. I quickly reached up and wiped the tears that were still present.

"Looks like at least one does," Charles said. I looked over my shoulder at the three men as they walked in. I quickly turned back around and continued playing the melody I could play in my sleep.

Evan cleared his throat before saying, "The room is open to anyone. All we ask is that you respect the instruments and clean them after you use them."

"I won't be in here much," Dylan scoffed. I heard Charles sigh, followed by three pairs of footsteps. I jumped when I felt cold hands on my shoulders.

"Don't stay in here too long, okay?" Evan whispered in my ear, gently rubbing my arms. "No need to drag on the torture."

I nodded as he leaned down and kissed the top of my head. "Okay," Evan said, turning away from me. "Why don't we show you the rooms where we hold the group counseling session you'll be joining?"

"What was that about?" Dylan asked, a hint of teasing in his voice as they walked passed me.

"That is none of your business," Evan sighed. As they left the room, I heard Evan lower his voice and threaten, "Stay away from her."

"Why? Is she contagious?" Dylan chuckled.

"Dylan," Charles sighed, not hiding his disappointment.

"Nope," Evan said, popping the p. "She is too good for you and I can't have you corrupting my favorite patient."

"I thought doctors aren't supposed to have favorites," Charles laughed, his tone very different from Dylan's. I could practically see the smirk on Evan's face as he shrugged.

"I do."

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