Chapter 2

-Brittany-

La-la-la Lips like sugar!

I walked into the classroom that was serving as the group therapy room. Desks were arranged around in a half-circle and a tall black man stood in the middle of the circle, watching his kids file in. Nervously glancing around, I searched for a place to sit. Clara waved at me, but the seats on either side of her were taken. I was slightly hesitant about sitting next to her, anyway. Eyes flitting from person to person, I recognized Jason. Shuffling over, I sat next to him. Somehow I lost him between lunch and third block. He grinned as I sat down and shrugged.

"So you made it in one piece," he said simply.

"Yeah, I guess so. This place is kinda easy to get lost in."

"Only to the new kids," he smirked and I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever," I muttered, falling silent. A large bell rang once again and the man picked up his clipboard and started calling out names. "Ashton?"

"Here."

I stared at a picture on the wall, it was a black poster with the words, "Discipline Yourself", written on it.

"Hepburn?!"

Snapping out of my daze I glanced at the teacher apologetically. "Here," I whispered. I saw Jason watching me out of the corner of my eyes but I just sat and listened to the names being called, trying to match faces to names. The teacher stopped after Vascilli, and grinned at us.

"In case you all haven't noticed, we have someone new joining us today. Ms. Hepburn, would you stand up and say something about yourself?"

Hesitantly I stood up and glanced around at the faces now watching me. "Umm, I'm Brittany," I stammered, looking nervously around the room. "I play my guitar, a lot."

Raising a brow, the teacher walked over towards me. "Since you're the new person, would you like to start off our therapy? Brittany, can you tell me why you cut yourself?"

I flinched and my heart started to race. This was so not cool! I felt the eyes of about thirteen kids all turn to me and I started to panic. How could I explain something like that, in front of all these people?!

"Brittany if it's too soon for you to talk about anything...we can come back," he said softly.

I felt the stares of the people around the room, they were all whispering to eachother...obviously talking about me. I had to say something, I couldn't let these people in here think I was intemidated by them. Because I wasn't. Really. Shit, I'm such a bad liar. "Umm," I muttered. Fidgeting with the hem of the shirt I was wearing, I looked over at Jason for help. He simply nodded and I took a breath. "I do it...to come back to reality, to focus," I said quietly, my hand shaking as I brushed a strand of auburn hair back behind my ears.

Mr. Danell turned around to be seen by the whole class. "She says it brings her back to reality, helps her focus," his voiced boomed. "Anyone else wanna contribute? Ah, Mr. Calloway, stand up, why do you cut?"

I sat down and looked up at Jason, the weirdest sensation tingling through my whole body. I had never admitted anything like that to anyone, and I'd barely been in this class five minutes and my big mouth had already blurted that out. What if my answer was wrong? IS there a wrong answer? Gah, somebody shoot me now! My pulse was racing and my hands were shaking as I tried to focus my attention on Jason. For the first time I noticed his arm, the purplish/redish scars going all the way down his left arm and his wrists on both arms. I blinked in surprise, how had I missed that before?

"I cut to feel alive," he said simply. "When you're numb and there's nothing left, it's a small reminder that you're still a living, breathing, bleeding being." He sat down and Mr. Danell smiled warmly.

"The effect of cutting is different on everyone-"

I looked down at my desk as a note landed directly in the center on top of my blank paper. I turned to Jason and he winked at me, slouching down in his chair.

It's not so bad, the more you open up, the sooner you'll get out of here, good thing to remember, eh?

Grinning, I pulled a pen out of my pocket and scribbled back a reply. I can't believe I actually said that, I've never told anyone about that. Folding it I handed it back. We continued passing it back and forth throughout the group session, amazingly, I didn't get called on again. I guess I was supposed to be listening, but talking with Jason seemed more appealing. When the bell rang, and the old man on the intercom announced everyone to head to fourth block, I stuck close to Jason. Fighting through the crowds of people, I realized it was hard to keep sight of him. Fuck. I hate crowded areas, I hate crowded areas, in case nobody got it the first time, I HATE CROWDED FUCKING AREAS! Looking around, I couldn't see Jason and the warning bell had started to ring. Heart fluttering, I started to panic, what if he's already in class, wondering where the hell I am? What if I'm late? What happens when you're late?! I didn't want to be here, but I wasn't trying to get in trouble either! Tears of frustration settled in my eyes as I looked wildly around the hallway.

A hand grabbing my own jolted me out of my thoughts. A sigh of relief broke from my lips as I saw Jason grinning at me and I met his eyes, electric jolts travelling through my arm from where he touched me. "Like I said, only new kids get lost," he said softly. I nodded dumbly, concentrating more or less, on how his fingers were lacing between mine as he started to gently lead me through the crowd towards Mrs. Terrance's English class. Stopping just outside a room, he looked back at me, "Here we are, the ultimate class to sleep through."

"Great, but question...what happens if you're late?" I glanced down and noticed he still hadn't released my hand. Leaning back casually against the wall, he swung both of our hands back and forth.
"Well nothing, you just get it reported, and if you're late two times, you simply get escorted next time, and if you get it five times, you get a day in isolation. Then it all starts over again." Was I the only one bothered at all by this constant contact? I hated being touched, in general, and some guy I've hardly known two hours is holding hands with me in the hallway, but I couldn't seem to rip my hand loose from his.

"How long have you been here?" I asked him, my eyes meeting his. "You seem to know everything there is to know."

"Well...it doesn't take too long to figure things out here, it's pretty simplistic. Just as long as you're not acting psycho, it's kind of like a private high-school. Except, we're labeled insane. But to answer your question, I've been here two years. I get out in a few months, I'll be eighteen. Once you're eighteen, they claim no rights to you, unless of course you're deemed unstable enough to where you can't survive by yourself."

I nodded. "This place just wasn't what I had expected. It seems like it'd be such a bad place, and minus the medications and nurses, it's not that bad."

He shrugged. "They do let us pretty much do what we want, just as long as you're not acting up. I love grounds days, though, we get to go out for a whole day and pretty much do whatever we want around campus. Including, visit the other sexes dorms," he squeezed my hand gently with a wink and I blushed. We both looked at the classroom when the final bell went off. He finally untangled his hand from mine and turning towards the door, he looked back at me. "La-la-la Lips like sugar!"

I followed him into the classroom and once again found the seat next to him, a silly grin on my face. Now what the hell did he mean by that? That kid was something else.