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Does his room have a tub? Fuck, I can't remember. Has he not bathed since getting here? I eye his messy hair. It's not greasy or dirty, but the chlorine is probably making sure of that.
"Have you been able to clean yourself at all since getting here?" I ask, trying to keep my voice as gentle as possible.
I don't do a good enough job. He jerks to his feet, his eyes darting everywhere but at me. "I know I'm disgusting, okay? I know. I'm fucking trying."
"Hey. That's not-" he runs off before I can finish. I let him go for a few seconds, telling myself it's not my place to chase him down and force him to deal with this. But I'm fucking weak for him and the thought that he might be somewhere crying or upset right now, somewhere feeling disgusting when he's the furthest thing from it, is too much for me to bear.
I catch up to him just as he's reaching for the handle of his bedroom door. He freezes, eyes wide as they lock with mine. "What are you doing here?"
"We aren't done talking."
"Well, I - I'm not letting you in."
I frown. "You don't have to. We can just talk out here. But can I ask why? You've never minded me coming in before."
"Just - it's - it's my space."
I eye him, knowing it's more than that. "Case, you're worrying me. What's going on?"
“Nothing. It's nothing,” he says too quickly, too defensively, his eyes avoiding mine. Before I can decide if I should push the issue, he squeezes his eyes shut and deflates. "Just… don't yell at me, okay? Please?"
"Of course, I won't."
He quickly shoves the door open, moving into the room so I can enter. I walk past him, my mind turning with all the possible reasons he'd think I'd be upset with him.
And then I see it.
Oh, Casey…
“When did this start?” I ask him, keeping my voice soft and warm so he doesn’t think I’m upset. I mean, I am upset, but not with him.
“A couple days ago.” I hear him shuffle behind me, lingering by the door like he might run off at any second. “I can’t sleep in a bed, Jake. I tried, but I just… I can’t. Turns out if I’m alone, my body doesn’t want to believe I’m allowed to be on it. I get - like - shaky and nauseous and panicky. It’s just easier to…”
“To sleep on the floor,” I finish for him.
“Yeah.”
“You were fine before.”
He releases a breath shaky enough for me to hear despite our distance. “Because I was with you.”
I stare at the pile of blankets on the floor, all lumpy and wrinkled, his little stuffed dolphin in the center. This can't be where he sleeps. I won't allow it. I walk past the blankets to the bathroom and peek inside, confirming my fear from earlier. No tub, just a shower.
"You can't live like this, Case."
"I know." I turn back to face him just in time to see his face crumple. "I'll do better, I promise."
"You're okay," I tell him, hurrying over to cup his face in my hands. "You're doing just fine. We'll fix this."
His blue eyes go wide, brimming with hope and trust and unshed tears. "How?"
"Will you let me help? I want to help you."
Despite the single tear that falls from his right eye, he looks impossibly relieved. "Please."
Chapter Twenty-Five
Casey
