Asylum (Asylum, #1)(33)
It was the girl in the photograph. The girl Abby had drawn in her room. But there was something more going on in these illustrations. Suddenly Dan knew what Abby was thinking.
“Lucy,” Dan murmured. “You think the girl in the picture is Lucy Valdez. . . .”
“I’ve just been inspired, that’s all.” Abby grabbed the sketchbook and gathered up the loose pictures.
“I think maybe you should be looking for inspiration somewhere else.” Shit. That hadn’t come out the way he’d wanted it to.
“What would you know about it? You’re not an artist, Dan. You’re— I don’t know what you are. You hold things in. You never share your own opinions. Do you really believe me about my aunt? I don’t even know. You get some weird email and a threatening note, and you say you want answers, but you won’t even go down to the basement with me. What are you, Dan? Whose side are you on?” She turned and stomped away, not giving him a chance to respond. He wanted to answer, to say something, but she was already with her friends at the art table and the last thing he wanted was to have an audience while he tried to explain his worth.
Anyway, what would he say? She was right—he did keep things to himself. He didn’t like to take risks; he was cautious. He was closed in. There was so much he hadn’t told her and Jordan. But she’d seen something in him before. Was that gone?
What was he? she’d asked. He was many things right now. And he felt like he was being pulled in a million conflicting directions. He definitely wanted to be with Abby, and that felt like the strongest, clearest direction. But fear of what awaited them in the old wing flooded his body. When they went down to that place, something bad happened to them—and to their friendship.
Dan cleaned up the table, his face hot with embarrassment. He took his tray and walked out of the dining hall without looking at Abby and her new entourage.
Outside, the crisp air felt like a blessing. He paused and glanced over his shoulder, through the windows and into the dining hall. Abby had her back to him, but he could tell by the shake of her shoulders she was laughing.
Dan walked slowly back to Brookline, his thoughts heavy, his heart even heavier.
When he got to his room, he slipped into his bathrobe and trundled down the hall to the bathroom. One of the showers in the cubicle behind him dripped, the droplets pinging the drain with an uneven rhythm. As he washed up, he remembered what the warden had written about “twisted roots.” Where did insanity begin? With paranoia and insecurity like Jordan’s, or with a strong-minded obsession like Abby’s? Should he be worried that their behavior marked the first signs of something more serious?
They are walking the line between genius and insanity. You know the line well.
When he lowered his hands from his face, Dan saw he had scrubbed his skin almost raw. He dried off with his towel, and then paused in front of the mirror. He always chose this same mirror. It had deep black scratches in the upper right-hand corner that looked vaguely like a word, and each night he’d decide it spelled something different. Tonight, it looked like HELP.
“Maybe you’d feel better if you went for a run. I have so much more energy now that I’ve started exercising. Have I mentioned that, Dan?”
Dan glanced up from his reading. “Only five times,” he muttered. “Today.”
“The point stands,” Felix replied from the floor. He was in the middle of his billionth set of push-ups.
For the past few days, Dan had basically kept to his room, watching TV shows online and occasionally reading materials for classes. He hadn’t heard from or spoken to Abby or Jordan since that night they’d all blown up at one another. At dinner, Abby sat with her new art friends, while Jordan had apparently stopped coming to dinner entirely. So Dan had started sitting with Felix, listening to how much his roommate was enjoying all of his classes and how he wished the program were longer than five weeks. At least one of them felt that way.
“Seventy-five,” Felix counted. He paused, out of breath, and switched to a kneeling position. His palms were red from the floor. “You’re welcome to join me at the gym this evening. It might really cheer you up, take your mind off of things.”
Dan had to admire his determination. Protein shakes and daily trips to the gym were quickly turning Felix’s once spindly physique into Fight Club material. He was still wiry, but Dan wouldn’t want to pick a fight with him in a dark alley.
“Thanks,” Dan said. “Not sure the gym is my scene, though.”
“You never know unless you try.”
Felix stood up and went to the closet. He pulled on a T-shirt and a Windbreaker, then packed a sports bag with a roll of clean white socks and a water bottle. “At least get out of the room, Dan,” Felix told him when he got to the door. “Take a walk. Get some fresh air. You can watch Battlestar Galactica at home. Don’t let this temporary setback ruin your whole summer.”
“Uh. Okay?” Dan watched Felix slip out and close the door. “Thanks, Oprah.”
But of course he was right. Dan got off his bed, shut his laptop, and changed into clean clothes. Just as he reached for his cell phone, it started buzzing so violently it nearly fell off his desk. Dan dove for it and was relieved to see MOM on the display.
“Hello?”
“Hi sweetie.” His mother’s voice was almost completely drowned out by the sound of TV in the background.