I get back. Exhausted. Sweaty. And still without a clear mind. A shower. A fucking shower will help. I don’t know why I lie to myself. Maybe it’s just a hopeful lie that I cling to.

Grabbing fresh clothes I head to the showers. Luckily no one is inside so I got the best head. Great pressure and just the right heat. Something to help take away my thoughts. I just stand there letting the water run over me. No soap. No shampoo. Just gloriously hot water. Yet still I think of that man. His jaw set as the judge says guilty. The way he doesn’t even look at Mom. Or me. That fucker had been my hero, but now he was just some monster you hear about on TV.

There’s a dull throbbing in my hand. I open my eyes to see that I had punched the wall. My knuckles are now bruised. I think I even broke the skin on one of them. I quickly finish and storm out of the showers. A fucking waste. That’s what that was. And that’s what my father is.

Food. That’ll cheer me up. I return to the dorm, grab my wallet, and leave slamming the door harder than I meant. If Sam didn’t hate me before, he might now. As I enter the campus quad to head to the activity center, I see three people standing in front of the library. Caution tape was still crossing the doors. Plastic sheets covered the windows that had been broken. But the three people weren’t look at all that. They were huddled together. As I watched one of them traced something out in the air, but what shocked me was that a trail of light followed the path of his finger. Great. Some sort of magic show. This fucking early in the morning.

I glare at the three as I walked past, which they noticed. Shock filled their faces before I turned and continued on. I get into the student activity center and go order the biggest chocolate chip pancakes ever. Just what I needed. No worries can fight the power of chocolate chip pancakes. Proven fact.

I’m like halfway done when Sam sits down across from me. “What’s wrong with you this morning?”

I’d complain about him being observant, but I probably did keep waking him up by throwing my book, stomping around, and definitely by slamming the door.

“Personal shit.”

Usually when I cuss in front of him he gets all shocked and flustered, but now he actually seems to care. He crosses his arms and leans forward so he can quietly say “You can talk to me if it’ll help.”

Talk. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. My past I keep to myself. The only people I have ever talked to about this shit is Mom and my therapist, Dr. Robert, and I can’t really even talk to my mom about this anymore since she’ll just shut down or her stress will take over. I remember I thought mom had gone crazy when she took me to see Dr. Robert. But he was probably what helped me the most. He just listened to me. When he did speak his smooth deep voice, reminded me of Morgan Freeman’s voice, would just make all my worries click in place and I could deal with them. Wonder if I could video call him. He’d know what to say.

“Ben?”

I look up to see Sam still staring at me making me realize I hadn’t said anything back to him.

“Sorry. Just it’s a lot.”

“I’m here if you need it.”

“Thanks.”

Sam nods his head before he starts talking about some random show he watched last night. He must have known that stupid shit like that helped.