“Let’s get you settled?” His mom said, clapping her hands. “We have a meeting with the doctor later, and we have to get dinner ordered for you.”
Paige wheeled him over to the bed and helped him move out of the chair. His leg no longer hurt with tingles, but burned as he thought an open wound might. He was tempted to peel his pants down and make sure it wasn’t on fire, but he knew from previous days like this, it was fine. Stress. Had to be stress. Triggering something? His nervous system to overreact?
“Dinner options are tilapia and rice or chicken and broccoli,” Paige read to him from a card and made a face. “Sounds thrilling.”
“Sounds healthy,” his mother said pulling the blankets up over his lap.
“Let me return the chair and I’ll be right back,” Paige said, wheeling the chair out of the room. At least everything was quiet. He couldn’t hear anyone else walking around or talking.
“Anything else you need while you’re here?” His mom asked.
“Do I get the letters back? The stuff from everyone?” He hadn’t gotten to do anything more than glimpse any of it over the past few weeks.
“Yes. As soon as they go through it, all of that will be delivered. Anything you can’t have right now will be locked behind the desk.” His mother reached over and pulled a spiral booklet out of the drawer. “This has a list of the stuff offered. Classes, the types of therapy, activities like games, and events.”
“Sounds like you plan for me to be here forever.”
“Not forever,” his mom corrected. She looked him straight in the eye. “But it might be a few months. I don’t want to lie to you, Tommy. I’m not going to tell you it will all be over next week. You could still be here through the New Year.”
He looked down to keep back the tears again, and worked on breathing. It was one of the few exercises he found he could do without any real struggle. It didn’t trigger an attack or do much other than give his mind something to focus on.
“What about the media? All of that?” He really hoped he wasn’t hurting Ru’s career. He hadn’t seen a single reporter. Ex-Boybander out of favor, or something else?
“Katie’s handled it.”
That was not an answer. He sighed. He’d been getting a lot of those non-answers lately.
“And the physical stuff you won’t talk about?”
“I’d rather wait until we can go over that with the doctor,” she said.
He bit his lip, wanting to yell that he wasn’t a kid. But he felt like one. A kid badly in need of his mom, his friends, and hope, which seemed to be fading more and more with every breath.
Paige returned. “I can try to sneak you food from Dimitri’s,” she offered.
“Paige!” Tommy’s mom reprimanded. “He has to eat right.”
“Dimitri’s is good food. Even Mrs. Corbin approves of the ingredients.”
“It’s okay,” Tommy said. “Sometimes spices set off an attack,” he admitted. “Or certain foods.” Potatoes hated him now. He didn’t know why. But every time he ate them, he either spent hours nauseous or threw them up. Didn’t matter how they came. Bananas were okay as long as they were on the green side. Other things sat like a rock in his stomach. Cereal or crackers, not things he reached for.
His mother got up. “Let me see if we can get in to see the doctor. I know they have a lot planned for tomorrow.” She looked him over.
“I’m fine,” he said. He wasn’t. They all knew that. But she nodded and went to find the nurse or doctor or whatever.
Paige flipped through the book of activities. “Yoga, even some weight training, lots of meditation. Sounds like a snore.”
Tommy snorted. “I think that’s the point, right?”
“Bore you into wanting to leave faster?”
“Maybe,” he agreed. Tommy stared at her for a few minutes, examining her face and memorizing the freckles. Who knew what he’d remember when he woke up tomorrow? He still vaguely recalled meeting her before but not much about it. “Do you think I’ll see everyone else soon?”
“Yes. Of course. I mean the normal sorts, Ru, Bas, Dane, Adam, probably Katie. Is there someone else we need to talk to? A girlfriend or someone no one knew about?” Paige asked.
Tommy had to think about that for a few minutes. There were a lot of faces in his mind, most pieces of memories. If there had been someone permanent, he couldn’t remember them. “I guess not? I mean I hope I’m not forgetting anyone like that. Ru’s letter mentioned Marissa was okay, but moved to another state.”
“Yeah, she developed some bad PTSD. We all feel bad for Bas because it was his brother who hurt her, which meant seeing Bas sometimes sent her into a panic attack. I talk to her on the phone and internet all the time. She’s doing a lot better. Change of scenery is helping a lot.”
