Social Skills (29 page)

Chapter Twenty-seven

The
usual male nurse greeted Connor and Jared the next afternoon. “Just so you
know,” he remarked casually, “I believe her parents are coming by later.”

“Yeah.”
Jared wore his hospital frown—lips thin and turned down, brow crinkled,
and eyes half-hooded. “They’re gonna see if they can take her home, I think.”

They
continued down the hallway, relief making Connor’s feet light. With any luck,
Veronica’s parents
would
be able to
have her released, so this dark, depressing chapter could end and they could
finally return to their regular lives.

Or
maybe, get a start on his dream life—the one where he got to see good
friends every day, walk around campus accompanied by his incredibly handsome
boyfriend…be comfortable in his own skin. It was enough to cause him to skip a
few steps, until a glance at Jared’s still-troubled expression put him in his
place.

This
wasn’t close to Jared’s dream life.

“Everything
okay?” He touched Jared’s arm to bring him to a stop outside Veronica’s door.

“Hmm?
Oh, yeah. It’s just…this might be the last time we’ll be here.”

“Yeah,”
Connor replied, careful to keep his tone neutral.

“And
I may never know what really happened with her. I just wish I had some sorta
closure, ya know?”

Connor
gave him a quick squeeze of understanding before they walked inside. It was all
he could offer, but it didn’t seem enough.

Veronica
peered at him as they approached, her head cocked to the side. “Jared, who’s
he?”

Jared
heaved a short, weary breath. “I’ve told you before. That’s Connor. He’s…I’m…he
and I are together, remember?”

“Oh.”
She squinted and shook her head. If she’d grasped what Jared was saying, she’d
probably forget in the next second anyway.

Not
that it bothered Connor. Acknowledging his presence was at least a step in the
right direction.

Jared
sat, and she whipped out a notepad to show him poorly done sketches she’d
completed during group therapy. Connor pulled up another chair and rested his
hand on the back of Jared’s neck. Every once in a while he gave the tight
muscles a little rub, waiting for them to relax under his touch.

“Will
we still be together when I get out of here?” Veronica asked. Connor hadn’t
followed the trail of conversation—there wasn’t much of one when she was
speaking—but it was obvious she’d become emotional by the way her bottom
lip trembled. “Will you still be my boyfriend?”

Jared’s
muscles tensed again, and Connor sighed. All his hard work wasted.

“I’ll…I’ll
always be your friend, Ronnie.”

“We’ll
get to go to the formal next spring?”

Connor
scooted back his chair, his insides crawling. “Be right back,” he mumbled, and
darted out of the room. He’d heard the ensuing conversation enough times to
know there wasn’t anything Jared could say to get through to her. Nothing he
could do about it, either.

He
leaned back against the wall in the hallway, cracking the knuckles on his hand
as the nurse passed by.

“Nice
to see she’s doing better today,” the man said. He got a few steps away before
a bizarre thought struck Connor.

It
was so far from anything
him
that he
almost didn’t believe the words were coming from his body. “Um, uh, e-excuse me…”

The
nurse turned around. “Yes?”

Connor
swallowed hard, his mouth dry and his lips twitching like they were suffering
from an electric shock
.
But now the man’s eyes were on him, and if he’d
come this far…

“Um,
I…I was just w-wondering, about…about what c-could make her sick like this…”

“I’m
sorry.” The nurse shook his head. “I can’t release information about a patient’s
condition to non-relatives.”

“I…I
know. I d-don’t need to know exactly what’s wrong with her. It’s just…m-my…my
friend…he thinks it’s his fault. He thinks he might’ve done something to cause
it, and I was just wondering if it’s…if it’s something that could have been
prevented.”

The
nurse drummed short nails against the clipboard in his hand. Then he sighed. “Tell
your boyfriend it isn’t his fault. With a lot of mental illnesses—like schizophreniform
disorder, for instance—you can’t point a finger and assign blame. We
think they might be caused by a combination of genetics and environmental
factors…but not by one break up.”

He
turned and walked off before Connor could summon a response.

Jared
popped out of the room a few seconds later. “Hey, there you are. I said goodbye
already. She was getting kinda tired and falling asleep. I’m ready to go.”

“Yeah,
uh, okay.” The knowledge—or the
potential
knowledge—Connor had just gained filled him with giddy energy. He bounced
after Jared, hands trailing the hospital walls and tapping out a folksy jig.

But
the joy was short-lived. When the elevator doors to freedom opened, Veronica’s
parents stood on the other side. They stepped out but didn’t walk away, shuffling
their feet and casting uncomfortable glances at the floor.

Jared
was the first to break the awkward silence. He certainly deserved points for
initiative. “Mr. and Mrs. Straton, how are you?”

“Fine,”
Mrs. Straton replied briskly. “We’re fine.”

“I’m
so sorry this happened.”

Her face
contorted, creating deep creases on her forehead and on the sides of her mouth.
They remained there even after she schooled her expression. “We’ve arranged to
bring her to a hospital closer to home, so you won’t need to come by here
anymore.” She turned away and her husband gently rubbed her back.

“Patricia,
I’m going to grab some coffee. I’ll be back up in a minute.”

“Fine.
Just be quick about it.” She took off for the double doors while Mr. Straton
stayed behind, waiting for the elevator.

It
was the perfect time to take the stairs. More than perfect. Connor rocked
forward on his feet so he’d be ready to go.
Please
let’s take the stairs.

But
Jared remained where he was, lost in thought, until a hand came down on his
shoulder. “Son, you in a rush? Or can I buy you and your friend a cup of
coffee?”

Rush,
rush, rush…

“Yeah,
we have a few minutes, Mr. Straton.”

Damn.

They
stood in line for the mediocre coffee in the hospital cafeteria without saying
a word. Once Connor’s hands were occupied with a cup, the only thing he could
do to calm himself was keep a stream of etudes running through his mind and
blink along to the beat. All instincts told him to
avoid perturbed parents, whatever the cost, but he couldn’t just leave
Jared.

“You’ll
have to excuse Patricia.” Mr. Straton finally spoke as they stopped off to add
sugar. “This has been…hard on her.”

“Of
course.” Jared nodded. “I understand.”

“Hard
for me, too,” the man added. “She’s my little girl, you know?” He rubbed a
meaty fist into his eyes, but not before a few tears slipped out.

Jared’s
eyes shone, too. Seemed like he wasn’t the only one trying to shoulder blame.
Connor sipped his coffee and accelerated the etude-driven blinks to keep from
tearing up in empathy.

Mr.
Straton harrumphed, clearing his throat and giving his whole body a little
shake. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to get all emotional on you. I have to get back
up there—I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate you looking
out for my daughter, Jared. I know you didn’t have to, and I thank you.”

Jared
shook his hand. “Of course. She’s my friend. And I hope she gets better soon.”

Veronica’s
father turned away, and Connor had barely released a sigh when a weight dropped
onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name…”

That
was obviously the moment to supply it, but Connor’s lips and tongue
inexplicably froze. He wanted to shirk away from the touch, but even that was
too much movement.

When
he didn’t speak, Mr. Straton went on. “Well, I know you’ve been to visit her,
too, so thank you. She’s lucky to have such good friends.”

He
gave them one last smile and walked off.

“Let’s
go.” Jared pulled Connor from his stupor with a firm yank on his arm. “I hate
hospital cafeterias.”

Connor
worked out the remnants of his anxiety with a little mental Mendelssohn during
the drive home. Jared was tapping the steering wheel, though, and the erratic
rhythm kept messing him up.

“So,
that was sorta mixed signals—between her mom and her dad,” Jared said.

“Better
than all bad signals.” Connor abandoned the music.

“Yeah,
I guess you’re right.” Jared shut off the engine by the first-year dorms. He
released his seatbelt and shifted toward Connor. “Adults still make you
uncomfortable, don’t they.”

“What?”
Mendelssohn started up again, fingers working along the leg of his jeans this
time, now that Jared’s offbeat tapping wasn’t in the way.

Jared
grabbed his hand to stop him. “You know, the way you used to be around everyone.
Or is it just parents that do that to you?”

Connor
scowled through his blush. All his progress and he still wasn’t close to
perfect. But who was, really? “I dunno. Maybe. Sometimes.”

“You
know, not all parents are like yours. Mine happen to be pretty cool, in fact.”

“Then
you’re lucky.”

Jared
chuckled, capturing Connor’s face with a hand under his chin. “Hey, you are
gonna stand up to them one day, aren’t you?”

“A-about
what?”

“I
dunno. Anything.” Jared’s fingers danced from Connor’s chin to his mouth, where
they traced his lips.

“I’ll…I’ll
try.”

“Good.
Now, we have like a half an hour of private time left.” He flung open his door.
“Let’s not waste it.”

Jared
peeled off his shirt as soon as they got inside and turned on the fan to air
out the muggy room. “Damn. We shoulda gone to your dorm—bet that air
conditioning is starting to look pretty nice right about now. Makes the walk
out there seem worth it, huh?”

“Mhm,”
Connor mumbled, for once not melting into a pool of lust at the sight of Jared’s
shirtless body. He had access to a computer now, and his conversation with the
nurse plus the internet just
had
to have
the answers he was looking for.

He
went straight for Jared’s laptop. With the aid of Google, he had millions of
results to his query in just a few seconds, and he scanned the first page
silently.
Delusions, hallucinations, disorganized speech, onset during late
adolescence and early adulthood…

That
was it. There were too many similarities for it not to be…which meant it wasn’t
something Jared could have caused. He sagged in the desk chair, letting out a
long, grateful breath.

“What’s
wrong?” Jared pulled off his shoes and lay back on his bed. “Why’re you over
there? C’mere.”

“Schizophrenia,”
Connor said quietly. “I think she has schizophrenia.”

“What?”
Jared sat up. “How do you know?”

“I…I
talked to that nurse.”

“And
he told you? I’ve asked before. They said they couldn’t tell me anything.”

“I
didn’t ask him for the diagnosis. I just, um…made conversation, and he sorta
gave it to me in a roundabout way.”

“Schizophrenia.
Fuck, that’s serious, isn’t it?”

“I
guess.” Connor scanned a few paragraphs under a treatment headline on the
webpage. “But with medicine and other therapy, it says patients can get better.”

Jared
shook his head. “Shit. That’s still rough.”

“Yeah.”
Connor fought to keep an appropriately commiserating expression on his face. “But
you know, this means it definitely wasn’t your fault.”

He
might not have pulled off the sympathetic look, because Jared stared at him,
his eyes narrowing. “So you just happened to ‘make conversation’ with the nurse
to find this out?”

Connor
closed the laptop and fiddled with the clasp. “I just couldn’t stand seeing you
feel so guilty…but you should know…I really
don’t
care for talking to strangers—especially adults—so I hope you
appreciate—”

Jared
leapt up from the bed and dashed across the room. His arms wound around Connor
to pull him into a deep kiss. “I appreciate, Connor Owens,” he said when he was
through. “I may not deserve, but I appreciate.”

Emotion
choked Connor’s laugh, making it come out all watery. He pressed his lips into
Jared’s and locked them together again, just as Ben barreled through the door.

“Ew,
gross!” Ben threw a hand over his face.

Jared
pulled away, blushing, but added a glare once Ben looked back at him.