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I stopped abruptly. If I told my dad my theory about Paxton stalking and messing with me, he’d think I was losing my mind. He’d probably yank me right out of Worthington and send me back to Harmony Haven. Only this time, I’d be in the inpatient section for people with serious mental health conditions.
He leaned closer, brows puckering. “You think there’s something going on where?”
“I, er… in my head,” I said, averting my eyes. “I think Dr. Ackley is right. I have an anxiety issue, and it’s really affecting me.”
Dad nodded. “He mentioned a prescription. I think you should take it.”
“I will.”
“I’ll also have someone from my office find a decent therapist close to Worthington.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I murmured.
“Knock, knock.” Michaela appeared at the door. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” My father rose to greet her with a hug.
“Hi, Mr. Holland,” she said, voice partially muffled by his coat. “It’s good to see you.”
“I must’ve told you a hundred times—call me Greg!” Dad said, pulling back. “You’re looking nice, by the way. Is that a new haircut?”
“Yes. Thanks for noticing.”
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. My father was always so much nicer to my friends than he was to me. If only they could experience the callous political-animal side of him. They might not think he was such a wonderful guy then.
Michaela stepped over to my bedside. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” she said, leaning down to hug me. “I left as soon as your dad called, but the traffic is awful this morning.”
“It’s okay. Where’s Tate?”
“He just texted me. He’s still stuck on the Beltway,” she said. She lowered her voice and went on. “Before he gets here, I wanted to ask you something. Have you noticed he’s been acting a bit weird lately?”
I raised a brow. “No. What do you mean?”
“I don’t really know how to explain it. It’s just… “ She trailed off and waved a hand. “Never mind. I’m probably just imagining things. Besides, we should focus on you. How are you feeling?”
“Pretty bad. My throat is killing me.”
“It’s probably from all the screaming,” she said, patting me on the arm. “It’ll get better in a few days.”
“How bad was it?” I asked. “Did you hear anything?”
Michaela hesitated, eyes flickering over to my father and then back to me.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I can handle it. Just lay it all on me.”
She sighed. “Okay, well… it was pretty loud. I heard you all the way down on the fourth floor. It woke me up.”
“Oh my god.” I groaned and shook my head. “Everyone in the dorms must think I’m totally insane.”
“No! No one thinks that. They just think…” She paused and bit her lip. “Well, the main rumor going around is that you had a bad trip.”
“So they all think I’m on drugs,” I said flatly. “Great.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” I briefly gnawed at the inside of my cheek. “I just can’t believe how fast the politico gossip sites found out. Did you see?”
Michaela grimaced. “Yeah. It’s fucked up.”
