'You weren't in your room,' I retort. 'Since when do you get up before nine am?'
I stare up at Malcolm, trying to sear his blond hair and blue eyes, his cheeky grin into my brain.
'Since my best friend is leaving today,' he laughs. 'You nervous?'
'Why does everyone keep asking me that?' I mutter.
'Because getting out of the loony bin after almost a decade is a big deal, maybe? Because this is your first time out in the big old world as an adult?'
I take a deep breath. 'I am nervous,' I admit. 'What if ...' I look up at the ceiling. 'What if I relapse, Mal? What if I kill someone out there?'
'You haven't done anything like that since the thing that happened to get you thrown in here in the first place, Red. You'll be fine.'
'I hope so,' I whisper.
He hesitates, looking uncertain as he holds something out to me. it's wrapped in birthday paper and my eyes widen.
'Happy Birthday, buddy.'
'You got me a present?!' I shriek.
He shrugs. 'It's no big deal.'
I ignore him, snatching it from him and tearing it open.
Inside is a small, glass light catcher in the shape of a ballerina. It's painted in pinks and purples. I hold it up to the light and look through it.
'It's just something I made ... for your new place.' He looks away. 'It's stupid.'
'It's not stupid,' I breath. 'It's beautiful and I love it!'
Mal half-smiles sheepishly, but I can tell he's glad I like it.
'Look, I asked the Doc if she'd give me back internet privileges so we can talk still.'
I can't help my smirk. 'What did she say?'
'That she'll think about it if I'm on best behavior and I never buy anything on her credit card again.' He huffs. 'She's the one who left her purse lying around. What did she expect?'
I shake my head, my smile growing wide. 'Mal, her purse was in her locked office.'
'Yeah, but it was just lying on her couch, and I still say that putting fifty koi in the pond out front makes this place look way more upmarket.'
I'm really going to miss his bullshit. I pull his tall frame to me hard, wrapping my arms around his torso.
'Hey, hey, what's this?'
I look up, my eyes swimming. 'Thank you for the present. I'll ask the Doc about the internet too, okay? Weekly call on Thursday nights at eight?'
'You're on, Red.'
'And you'll be careful of Wilkins, right?'
'I always am.'
'I mean it. He's not right. With me not here to focus on ...'
'I'm a big boy, Ripley. I'll handle it.' He looks down at me and I swear I see tears in his eyes too. 'I'm glad you're getting out of here,' he whispers.
I nod jerkily. With a final squeeze, I pull away and leave the room, not trusting myself to look back at him. A horn beeps outside and I go past the front desk, waving to the security guy as he buzzes me out. The Doc is on the steps as promised.
'Got everything?'
'I think so. Look, about Mal's internet privileges ... Do you think you could let him--'
'I'll lift the ban, Ripley,' she sighs, 'but if he buys anything else using my card, I'm going to enroll him in so many online classes, his head will spin!'
I chuckle and nod. 'I'll make sure he knows.'
'Okay. I'm going in now. Goodbyes aren't in my remit.' She gives me a quick hug though. 'Remember what I said.'
'I will, Doc. Thank you.'
I turn to the car and give the driver my bag. He looks at me a little warily and I try to look non-threatening. 'It's okay, I've got my meds,' I say, trying for humor, but he just stares at me wide-eyed and gets in the car mumbling something about it always being the pretty ones.
I grimace.
Oops. Note to self: Don't joke about being from the nuthouse.
Afraid he's going to drive off at speed without me, I wrench open the door and I swear I hear him make a scared noise as I throw myself into the back seat and put on my seatbelt. I click the door shut and the car begins to roll down the long driveway. I look back at the brick buildings.
Just breathe.
I've left the grounds before. Sometimes we go into the local town on field trips, so it's not like I haven't seen the outside world for almost ten years or anything like that.
The car passes through the stone arch, and I watch as the iron gates begin to close. I wave at the camera, knowing that Steve or Arron is probably watching the monitors from the security desk.
And then we're on the road.
It's the beginning of September, so it's still pretty warm out and the trees won't begin to turn for another month or so. I'll miss that.
I roll my eyes at my thoughts. They'll have freaking trees at Dartmoor Breach. I'm being ridiculous and I need to snap out of it! I can't live my entire life in an institution. I wanted to leave and now I have. I should be happy, not wallowing, pining for a half-lived life!
I make a vow to myself, that I will live my days to the fullest now. I'm a regular girl out here, I can make friends and do regular girl things like go to the mall or the movies. I can even go by myself if I want, I realize. I don't have to ask anyone's permission to do everyday life things anymore! I can go where I want, when I want, how I want.
I feel lighter as I look back out at the passing trees, seeing my world with new eyes. Ripley Montclaire is free.
When we pull up to iron gates that look very similar to the ones I just left behind, I wonder for a second if this was some elaborate ploy to move me to a more secure facility. There's no reason for me to think that though. The Doc has never lied to me as far as I know, and she was the one who helped give me the confidence to do this. I can't shake the feeling that I shouldn't be here though.
But that's ridiculous. I guess I'm just afraid of the unknown. Other humans must work in Dartford Breach Academy too. It's not like I'm going to be the only one.
'End of the line,' the driver says, letting the car slow to a halt.
'But this is just the gate,' I protest, thinking about the ridiculously long road to the institution. 'The main buildings might still be five miles up the driveway.'
He eyes me in his rear-view mirror. 'Not my problem.'
His head turns to stare at the closed gate in front of the car., his expression unreadable. 'We don't drive through the breach.
I frown. What the hell is he talking about?
'Okay,' I mutter slowly and grab my bag as I push open the door.
I get out and look around. The iron of the gate is black and ominous, pointed and Gothic. A shiver runs down my spine.