Just Like This (Albin Academy #2) - Cole McCade Page 0,89

we want to turn out decent or something.”

“Oh,” Rian said, blinking. “That’s...well, I suppose that’s not too terrible.”

“...maybe not for you,” Chris muttered. “I just... I just wanted to be...”

“Normal,” Damon finished softly. “You wanted to go to a normal high school and be a normal boy with normal friends. Not this secret hideaway where everyone caters to every tiny thing you want, and tries to keep your entire existence a secret from the world.”

Chris struggled out a weak, troubled smile. “Yeah. Something like that. I don’t hate it here. And my friends here are really cool. I mean...it’s not so bad I wanna leave, it’s just not my favorite place. But...well...what’s that old song? Can’t always get what you want?”

“Forgot the other half, though.” Rian watched Chris, the little subtle cues of body language that gave away just how upset he was—something that ran deep, something behind whatever he wasn’t telling them. “But if you try sometimes...you might just get what you need. So what is it you need? Can’t hurt to tell us. Try it out.”

Chris screwed his face up. “I mean... I don’t really need anything?”

“Those bruises say otherwise,” Damon interjected. “If you’re not going to fill us in, we might have to get the police involved.”

For the second time, Chris rasped out a garbled “What?” and this time nearly dropped the orange juice bottle, fumbling with the bottle with one hand and the cap on the other, juice splashing out over his fingers before he managed to scramble enough to thunk the bottle solidly down and sling the cap onto it haphazardly while still holding his IV-pinned arm stiffly straight. Clutching at the bottle with wet fingers, he stared at them with a look of such horrified betrayal Rian felt as if he’d kicked a puppy. “You can’t do that; it’s not fair! I didn’t do anything wrong, and I didn’t break any laws!”

The entire room fell silent, even Nurse Hadley’s movements beyond the curtains stopping.

Rian and Damon simply watched Chris—and Rian could see the moment Chris realized he’d slipped. Because Rian knew without even asking that Damon had meant calling the police to investigate whoever was hurting Chris...

...but Chris had assumed he’d meant calling the police to punish Chris for whatever he might be involved in.

That...was a little too telling.

And suddenly that feeling of worry inside Rian expanded from a tiny little frustrated knot into a massive, heavy, deeply tangled thing that felt like it weighed as much as Rian himself, and more.

This could be worse than they’d thought.

A lot worse.

Chris lowered his eyes sharply, biting his lip as he carefully screwed the cap back on the orange juice bottle, then picked up a folded white paper napkin and started wiping at his fingers.

“I don’t want to talk anymore,” he mumbled. “I’m really tired, and I just want to eat and go back to sleep.”

Damon started to open his mouth—but Rian reached across the bed to touch his wrist, shaking his head and mouthing No.

Let it be.

Damon stiffened, then sighed, nodded, and withdrew, standing with his jeans rasping against the sheets as he slid off the bed. “Okay, Chris. We’ll let you rest. But what do you want us to tell your parents, if they call back?”

Chris shrugged listlessly. “They won’t,” was all he said.

Rian hated how certain he sounded.

But Rian held his tongue, and he and Damon filed from the room. Nurse Hadley caught Rian’s eye, and gave up any pretense of “organizing” shelves to follow them; the last Rian saw of Chris was Chris forlornly shredding the edge of his napkin, before Hadley closed the door behind them as they congregated out in the hall.

“Fuck,” Damon said immediately.

“That about covers it,” Rian said, and slumped against the wall. “This is worse than we thought. What if he’s involved in something illegal?”

“That’s what I was thinking.” Grim, scowling, Damon rubbed at his chin. “Something illegal. Someone who’s bad for him. Someone he’s more afraid of than anything else that could be threatening him.”

“I don’t really think Omen’s a haven for gang activity,” Rian said. “Or even thugs, despite the reasons this school exists. But could he be involved in drugs? Something more serious than marijuana?”

“Nothing came up on the urine test in his pre-season physical when school started,” Nurse Hadley said. “And I’ve done another one since he was admitted. Now, granted, our facilities aren’t that sophisticated, but on a basic screening he came up clean. He’s also not exhibiting signs of withdrawal from