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“Yes.” Casey’s hand snakes under the blankets, fingers grabbing desperately at my shirt. “I want him here.”
“Okay.” Dr. Singh eyes me carefully before asking Casey his next question. “Were you trying to hurt yourself, Casey?”
Casey ducks his head, making my stomach turn. “I - no. No, I don’t think I was. I just… I mean, I was thinking that maybe I didn’t want to ever come back up because I was upset, but it was just a thought. And then my thoughts started spinning and spinning and spinning. But then I was thinking that I’d be sad if I was dead, that I wanted to try to let things get better, and then I realized shit, I can’t breathe, and I hurried and got out of the water.”
Dr. Singh lets that sit for a moment before looking at me. “Did he cough up water?”
“No. He was gasping for air when he came up, but no coughing or choking. He didn’t start drowning under there. He came up fast enough.”
“And on his own? I understand you were in the water with him. That you pulled him out of the pool.”
“He came up before I got to him. Just seconds before, but before. I pulled him out of the pool because he was so upset. He was crying and clinging to me.” I tighten my arm around Casey, not wanting him to ever feel bad about that reaction. I’m glad he trusted me in such a vulnerable moment. That he let me take care of him. “I didn’t rescue him. He did it himself.”
Thank fucking god he did it himself.
Dr. Singh smiles. It’s soft, maybe even a little hesitant, but it’s a smile. “Are things clear now for you, Casey? About those thoughts? Or are you still questioning?”
“Clear,” he says immediately. “So fucking clear. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to give up. I’m probably going to spend way too much time in your office crying my eyes out about my dad and about the past and about… all sorts of shit, honestly. But I don’t want to fucking die, doc. I don’t. Now that I almost… I know I don’t.”
Dr. Singh’s smile grows. “Then it sounds like maybe, as twisted as it may be, you had a very good night after all.”
My heart flutters. “He’s okay?”
“No, Jake, he’s not.” Dr. Singh’s smile doesn’t waver. “But he’s going to be. I’ll see you right after breakfast tomorrow morning for our first of many crying sessions, young man.” He winks at Casey, then nods at me. “You’re welcome to come, if he’d like that. Tomorrow or any other time.”
“Thank you,” Casey and I say together. The two of us laugh a little. It’s such a fucking relief to hear him laugh. To feel myself do the same. Casey pulls his dolphin up under his chin and turns his face into my chest. I kiss the top of his head and look at Dr. Singh again. “Really. Thank you.”
Casey chooses to go to his after-breakfast crying session alone, giving me a lingering kiss just before hurrying off. He looks startingly happy for a boy about to go cry his eyes out. I go to our room and grab David, then sit in the kitchen to wait for him to be finished.
Maison doesn’t let me sit alone. He plops down in the stool beside mine just minutes after I’ve settled, placing a coffee in front of me that’s doctored just how I like, a steaming mug of his own in his hands. He smiles softly at David. “Nice dolphin.”
“It’s Casey’s,” I say, even though that’s probably obvious. Maison knows all the survivors got a stuffed animal.
“I figured,” he says, proving me correct. “How’s he doing?”
“Okay, I think. Dr. Singh seems to think the worst is over. That Casey finally decided to… live.”
Maison clasps a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently. “I’m glad. I’m really fucking glad, bud.”
I wipe a trembling hand down my face and huff a soft laugh. Glad doesn’t even begin to describe it. But yeah. I’m fucking glad too.
“How are things going with Nolan?” I ask, needing to think of something else. Anything else. Maison blushes. It’s a fascinating and amusing thing to behold. And I am so going to give him endless shit about it. “I’m sorry, are you fucking blushing?”
“What? No. Don’t be ridiculous.” He sputters a bit. “I - you - he’s amazing. I mean - no. Not amazing. I mean, he is amazing. He’s completely fucking amazing. But you’re asking how he is, like, mentally. Which makes sense. Because we’re talking about Casey’s mental state. And Nolan mentally is… alright. He’s doing alright. Better than I expected, but still struggling with some things. He asked me to fuck him. Did you hear that the other night? He was completely wasted and just tossed it right out there. We haven’t talked about it since. He might not even remember. He probably doesn’t remember. But that’s fine. Totally fine. I’m sure he’s nowhere near ready for that anyway. Which is fine. Completely fine. I’d wait forever if he needed it. Not that I need to wait. We aren’t together or anything. I mean, we spend time together, of course, but we aren’t like… together. Are you and Casey together now? Together, together? Sorry, that’s none of my business. I just thought - anyway. Nolan is doing alright. He’s talking about culinary school, even. So. Yeah. Great. Amazing, really. Nolan is amazing.”
I stare at my friend, wishing I’d gotten that on video. Travis is going to be so utterly devastated he didn’t get to witness that hot mess. “Wow.”
“What?”
“You’re fucking gone for him, aren’t you?”
He groans miserably, putting his arms on the counter and banging his head against them. “So. Fucking. Gone.”
“Oh, my friend. I am so fucking sorry.”
“Why can’t we stop falling for them? These little shitheads. They’re systematically breaking down our training. Taking us down one by one. You notice Matt and Ace? They’re practically inseparable these days.”
I laugh softly, in complete agreement with him. “They’re just so fucking strong. And beautiful. And beautifully strong.”
