Chapter 10: Beau

“Tell me, Beau; how do you think the new meds have been helping you?” John Carter’s voice spoke somewhere in the vicinity, but it was difficult to focus on anything besides the fact that the fucking award he had hanging on his wall was lopsided, tilting slightly to the right in such a way that my eye began to twitch just looking at it. “Beau?” he said again, and I forced my eyes away from the frame and back to him, leg tapping restlessly against the floor.
“They were working great until I came in here,” I said, eyes roaming the office. Pens and notebooks lay scattered all over his desk in disarray. How anyone could possibly get a shred of work done in this sort of fucking chaos was beyond me, and it was enraging.
“Is there something wrong with my office?” John asked, and I scoffed, looking away from him.
“For a shit show, no. It’s great.”
John smiled. I hated that fucking smile. He knew he was getting under my skin and he fucking loved it.
“So the meds aren’t helping?” he confirmed. “Shall we up your dose?”
“Do I really get a choice?”
John smiled again, and my fists clenched. I wanted to punch him in his arrogant mouth. “Yes and no,” he said. “Do you feel like you could be a harm to yourself or others?”
“I have OCD, man,” I said, leg bouncing even faster. “But I’m not a fucking psycho.”
“Nobody said you were.” John leaned back in his chair, crossing his ankles. “But often, even with a diagnosis of OCD, other symptoms may arise on account of that diagnosis.”
“Like what?”
“Rage, primarily,” he said with a shrug as if we were discussing the weather. “Sometimes patients with a diagnosis like yours also present with aggression and anger, especially if your thoughts are out of control. Do you ever worry about hurting yourself or someone else?”
“Not really,” I lied.
“Not at all?”
I shrugged. “I don’t like when things aren’t a certain way, but that’s just how it goes, right? Pretty cliché.” My eyes darted once more to the desk, narrowing in on the messy sheets of paper and scattered pens. I hadn’t realized I’d been clenching my jaw until my teeth creaked. I popped my knuckles. “Can I go now?”
“I noticed you, Keane, and Teague have been paying extra attention to the new intake,” John said, catching me off guard. “Can you tell me about that?”
“What is there to tell? Keane finds her—interesting.”
“Ah. And how do you find her?”
“She’s cute,” I said with a shrug. “But she has no interest in any of us.”
“Does that make you want to hurt her?”
I thought again of the night of the bonfire, how Eve had squirmed beneath Keane, terrified and afraid and completely unhinged.
“Sometimes,” I said. It did no good to lie, not in here. They knew everything. “But I won’t. I won’t hurt her.”
“And what about the others?” John asked. “Do you believe they have your self-control, as well?”
“Teague is fine.” I ran my hand through my hair then rested it on my knee as my finger began to move rapidly to a non-existent rhythm. “I don’t know about Keane.”
“Do you think he’s still dangerous?”
“I think everyone in this place is dangerous.”
“Including you?” John smiled. It wasn’t genuine. It never was.
“Including me,” I agreed. “Can I go now?”
John sighed, tapping his finger rhythmically against his thigh. “You can go,” he said. “It was a nice visit, Beau.”
“The feeling isn’t mutual.” I stood and left, anxious to get out from under John’s intense gaze. I hated therapy sessions. Really, we all did. It was nothing more than a sick reminder of how screwed up we really were; as if we needed to be told.
Shoving my hands deep into the pockets of my jeans, I wandered down the hallway towards the cafeteria to find some food for lunch. Students moved out of my way like magic, and I smiled. It was nice to be a Rouge. We really did run this fucking place, and everyone knew it.
“Hi, Beau,” a soft voice said, and my eyes met a girl named Melanie, one of our frequent fucks. Before Sadie, it had been Melanie, and the girl had never quite gotten over being pushed aside.
“Mel,” I said, slowing down to allow my eyes to roam over her body. “You’re looking fine as hell.”
“Thanks,” she said, flashing a grin. “I try.” She raised one hand to run it through her auburn hair, and I caught sight of the track mark scars up and down her arms. Just like the rest of us, we all had our little issues. “Listen,” she said, stepping in front of me and forcing me to come to a halt. “If you boys ever get tired of that blonde bitch Sadie, just know that I’m here and willing to come back whenever you want me.”
I smiled, reaching out to touch her hair with a slight shrug. “Tempting,” I said, twirling a bit of hair around one finger. “But you know how this works, Mel. You’re only called when you’re needed. And unfortunately, you’re no longer needed.”
Melanie’s face fell, nose wrinkling in undeniable angst. “Screw that blonde bitch,” she seethed. “Sadie is useless.”
“That she is,” I agreed, thinking of Eve. “And she won’t be around for much longer, either.” I brushed past Melanie, leaving her staring after me down the hallway with a hurt look in her eyes. I hated when they were so desperate, like scorned puppy dogs. Maybe that’s why we had all taken to Eve so quickly. She wasn’t desperate. She was feisty, and she made us work for it. That was a pleasant change.
“Hello, Paul,” I said, coming to a stop at the end of the hallway. One of the guards, a burly guy with thinning hair and a beer belly, met my gaze.
“Beau,” he said with a nod, and then glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was around to listen. I leaned against the wall, hands back in my pockets, and smiled at him.
“Have you got something good for us today?”
“Don’t I always?” asked Paul, reaching into his pocket as he checked over his shoulder once more.
“You say that, but Keane wasn’t a fan of the last batch,” I said, watching as the middle-aged dude pulled a tiny bag of white powder from the bottom of his pocket. He sidled up closer to me, and I reached one hand out to take the baggie, skillfully slipping it into my own pocket.
“How would he know?” demanded Paul. “He doesn’t use the stuff.”
“Nah, he just sells it. But don’t think that we don’t get feedback.” I crossed my feet at the ankles and smiled at him, but underneath that smile was something sinister, and I was pleased when Paul shuffled uncomfortably. “Just keep in mind that if the supply doesn’t keep up and you keep giving us shit, you’ll have Keane to answer to.”
“Whatever,” Paul said, and I stared at him until he shuffled again, clearing his throat. “I won’t let you down,” he promised, and I grinned wider.
“That’s what I was hoping to hear, Paulie. Thanks for that.”
He said nothing as I turned and walked away, fingering the baggie in my pocket. With the ruling of this school came responsibilities, and drugs were on the list. We had to make money somehow, had to keep people in line, and selling hits of heroin was one way to keep control of these assholes. They were like animals, begging for it at our feet. It was just so fucking easy.