Asylum (Asylum, #1)(25)
Dan grabbed his laptop. When he went back to Sal Weathers’ website and clicked “Contact Me,” he was totally just looking for an email address. But good old Sal had listed his full details, and Dan was shocked to find an address that wasn’t just in New Hampshire, it was in Camford.
“One of Professor Reyes’s petitioners, I’ll bet,” Dan murmured. It now made sense that Sal Weathers would be so invested in cataloging and publishing Brookline’s sordid history—he was probably hoping to get the place torn down.
Part of him wished Sal lived across the country, or in Cambodia, so that the temptation to visit him wouldn’t be so strong. But all signs were pointing to a meeting with this man, and Dan wasn’t about to ignore a message from the universe.
“So it’s official,” he whispered to the computer. “I’m obsessed.”
He stood in a cell, waiting. Finally, a group of doctors came in, all wearing masks and gowns. Dan waited for them to hurt him, but they didn’t seem to know that he was there. They stood around talking and jotting notes on their pads.
Then Dan heard screaming. Two orderlies came into the room, dragging a girl between them. She was barely ten years old, and her face was familiar—pale, frightened, with big open eyes.
“Okay, fellows, let’s get to work on her.”
At the sound of his own voice, Dan bolted awake. Even in his sleep he couldn’t escape.
Usually Abby beat him to the dining hall, but despite the late night and broken sleep, Dan saw no sign of her or Jordan as he got in line for breakfast.
He heaped hash browns, eggs, and a few strips of bacon onto his plate and grabbed a bowl of cereal from the end of the buffet before heading to their usual spot, a circular table by the far windows. While he finished eating his eggs and bacon, he watched the other students filing in, but Abby and Jordan still didn’t come. He started in on his cereal, taking his time with it.
As the minutes ticked by with no sign of his friends, he became increasingly aware of the fact that he was the only student eating alone. He was used to this at his high school but here he felt conspicuous, naked without his friends.
Finally, he spotted Jordan, who looked even worse than Dan felt, if that was possible.
“Hey,” Jordan said, sitting down with a whump. Big, nasty bags rimmed his eyes behind his glasses.
“You all right? Looking a bit tired there. . .”
“I’m fine,” Jordan snapped, sounding decidedly unfine.
Dan glanced at the doors again. Abby would know how to make this better.
“She’ll show up when she shows up,” Jordan said. “Can’t you even wait a second to see her?” He bit into an English muffin as if it had personally insulted him.
What the hell?
“Are you okay, Jordan?” Dan risked, knowing Jordan might go for him again.
“I’m fine. Jesus, what is this, the Inquisition? Are you on my dad’s payroll now?” The English muffin was dying a painful death in Jordan’s tightening grip. A piece broke off and landed in his bowl of Cap’n Crunch. Jordan fished it out with his chewed-up fingernails.
They fell into an uneasy game of looking anywhere but at each other. Given his options—get chewed out again or stare at his cereal—Dan chose the cereal. Could Jordan still be angry about last night?
With five minutes until the dining hall closed, Abby finally made an appearance. She dashed to the fruit-and-granola line and grabbed a banana and a bowl of yogurt. Her usual sunny disposition was gone. Her eyes were half-lidded, and her pretty olive complexion was ashen.
She sat down with a quick “Hey,” and started eating without another word.
“Hey,” Jordan said. “Did you come down with something? You look terrible.”
“What are you talking about?” Abby glared.
“Nothing, I was just saying you looked radiant. New makeup?”
“Yeah, because sarcasm is exactly what I need right now.”
Dan tried to lighten the mood. “Well, sounds like someone woke up on the wrong side of the gurney.” He immediately wished he had kept his mouth shut.
Abby looked at him, her eyes flashing in anger. She dropped her spoon in her bowl, splattering yogurt all over her tray. “Actually, Dan, there was something important I wanted to talk to you guys about. But I guess it will have to wait.”
With that, she grabbed her tray and left the table.
“Congratulations,” said Jordan. “That might be the briefest relationship in the history of the universe.” Jordan finished his mangled muffin. “In fact, since you’re not even technically a couple yet, it’s sure to be one of those delightful death-by-silent-treatment endings. Quel dommage.”
“What the . . . ? What the hell did I do to piss you guys off?” But Jordan was already on his way out, and Dan ended up saying it to the back of his head.
Dan’s mood worsened in class, when the professor showed a documentary he had already seen, which meant he sat for two hours in the dark, distracted, not a word of the film penetrating his brain while he replayed breakfast in his head. Maybe it wasn’t fair to expect Abby to be sunshine and daisies all the time. Everyone was allowed a bad day here and there. She might have gotten another disheartening text from her sister. Whatever the cause, Dan decided it was foolish to read too much into it. Abby would tell him what was wrong in her own time, and he would be there to listen when she did. He wouldn’t let a bad breakfast spoil things between them.