mentioning it got me thinking about it again though, and although Hamlet isn’t the sort of reading you’d

expect to find in the psych ward, I asked Doc to get a copy for me. She seemed a little surprised when

she handed it over, like she didn’t expect me to want to read it after everything that happened leading up

to me landing in here. I don’t blame her. Most of the times that she’s tried to talk to me about the play,

it’s been like pulling teeth. It’s not exactly an upbeat conversation topic for me.

And yeah, it’s almost a little like torture to read it again, especially Horatio’s lines, which I’d had

just about memorized when Jeff gave me the part of Marcellus. It’s something I need to do, though, for

myself. The play’s going to be all over campus if I ever get out of here, and I’ll have to deal with it. So I

guess this is just my way of forcing myself to get used to it now, when I can try to handle shit on my

own terms. It’s taking me a while to get through it, just because I keep setting it down to think about

things, but I figured that waiting for Riz to show up would be as good a time as any to get through a

little more of it.

Ophelia’s breakdown keeps me occupied for a while, and I have to laugh to myself a little. I’d

always thought she was just an annoying add-on character, someone that didn’t even need to be there.

But her confusion - the way her world breaks apart as Hamlet messes with her - well shit. Forget

Horatio or Marcellus, because Jeff should’ve just cast me as Ophelia.

I suppose it’s not the nicest comparison to make, and it’s not like Rizzo killed my family or

anything. I actually feel bad about the comparison, especially when a familiar figure eases comfortably

down onto the other end of the couch. I finish the line and mark my place before tucking the book down

between my leg and the cushion and looking over at him with a smile, pushing my previous thoughts

away. “You’re late today. Hot date keep you away?”

Rizzo leans back against the arm of the couch, body a long line of satisfaction that I can’t help

glancing down at for a second, and grins at me. “I wouldn’t exactly call it a ‘date’…” He tops it off with

a wink, and I can only laugh at him, seeing the tease for what it is.

I gesture at his hand a little where I can see his knuckles are a little roughed up, still smiling. “Yeah,

doesn’t look like a very successful date, if it was. What’s the matter, having to fight off all those

groupies lately?” I’ve never even heard of Rizzo getting in a fight, but his hand looks pretty raw.

He shrugs, casual grin still firmly in place. “What can I say? Everyone loves a tortured prince.” He

gestures down at where I’ve tucked the book away, almost seeming interested that I have it here, and

I’m actually a little embarrassed that he’s caught me reading it, thinking back again about the

comparison. I can feel the tips of my ears flush hot and pink, and I try to shrug as casually as he had.

“It passes the time,” I reply to his unasked question, but my answer seems weak even to me,

especially since there’s a million other things I could be reading. I sigh and shake my head. “And if I

ever get out of here… get back to campus… shit’s not going away any time soon, right?” There’s a

pause that I’m starting to recognize as Rizzo thinking before he replies.

“Not even if you want it to, no.” Rizzo’s still smiling, his tone light, but I look over just in time to

catch something else. I wouldn’t even be able to name what it was, but it tells me that something isn’t

right.

“Do you want it to?” The question is out before I can stop it, and Rizzo glances over, seeming

surprised. I’m not sure at what. Maybe that I’m not completely lost in my own head anymore, and can

actually pick up on shit. He shakes his head though.

“Not the whole show. Just certain people in it.” He laughs it off as a joke and changes the subject,

but we both know he’s acting even now.

***

The room’s swimming, and I’m certain that I’ve misheard what Doc’s just said. When I ask her to

repeat it, though, it stays the same.

“We’re releasing you next week, Nick. You’ve been here over a month, your mandatory time here’s

done, your school semester has started, and I don’t want you missing any more classes than you

absolutely have to. Plus, even though we both know that there’s things you still have to work on, you’ve

actually made a lot more progress than I expected.”

I’m already shaking my head, ready to argue, but she talks over it. “Nick, the drugs are out of your

system and you’re responding well to the medication we’ve got you on. From what I can tell, from what

you’ve told me, you’re more stable now than you’ve been in years. I know you’re scared. Everyone’s

scared to get back out there, especially after something like you’ve been through. But hiding in here

isn’t going to make it any easier. We’ll set up appointments for you to come in, lots of them. We’ll keep

you healthy.” She pauses and looks at me so seriously that I can feel my throat go tight at the unspoken

We’ll keep you alive.

She doesn’t usually say shit like that, not with that tone. Even hinting that the overdose was more

than just an accident, and that all the shit leading up to it wasn’t accidental either. I’ve said it in

sessions, we’ve talked a lot about self-destructive behavior and depression and coping, and there’s shit

about it in my official file, but damn if I hate admitting it when I don’t have to.

Everything else she says washes over me, and eventually I head back out to the main lounge, trying

to get my hands to stop shaking. The feeling is familiar, but this time it’s not for the reasons I’ve been

used to. I’m still sitting there when Rizzo shows up. I can tell that he’s in a good mood when he comes

in, an extra energy to his step that I can feel even though I don’t look up. It stills, though, when he gets

closer, and by the time he sits down, he’s serious and quiet.

“Nick?”

I have to close my eyes to try to steady myself against how concerned his voice suddenly sounds.

Now that I’m able to pay attention, I hear the worry and care that’s hidden under everything else. I

notice the little hints of vulnerability. It tugs at me in a strange way when he sounds like this, makes me

wonder more about the parts of himself that he doesn’t usually show, the things he doesn’t usually say,

the things I’ve always missed before and am finally starting to see now. On top of everything else that’s

just happened with Doc, it’s so unsettling. My eyes are still closed when I take a breath to steady

myself.

“They’re releasing me… next week.”

There’s a stillness between us while I wait for a reply, but none comes. I finally open my eyes to

look over at him, and he’s smiling at me. Not laughing, not teasing, just smiling a little. Happy.

“Best news I’ve had all day,” he says, voice warm enough to wrap around me. There’s something

under the words that I’ve never heard before from him, something relieved and relaxed and though I

know I don’t deserve it and never will, it makes me feel like maybe I can handle this.

***

Logically, I know it’s been less than two months.

Logically, I know that nothing’s going to have changed.

But it still feels strange when the cab pulls up to campus and everything looks the same. The

buildings still stand where they always have, winter-bare trees filling the spaces in between. There’s a

fairly new blanket of snow making everything reflect clean and bright as I watch people hurry between

buildings to get out of the cold. Just like they always have.