Here is chapter two! This is such a fun story to write. Hope you love reading it as much as I love writing it! Also, remember to review.

I'm open for suggestions if anyone wants to share, too, just so you know!

That Monday morning Jeff was awake by 5 am. Breakfast was at 6 and school started at 7, so they had to be up around this time every morning, apparently. It wasn't something that Jeff figured he'd get used to any time soon, but yet one more thing he'd have to deal with for the next two years.

Of course, Nick and Flint went for the cigarettes as soon as they woke up. It seemed like the room always reeked of their second-hand smoke. They all dressed in their navy blue and red-trimmed uniforms provided by the school. They were extremely nice—a dress shirt, dress pants, a blazer, and a tie. Jeff had to admit that they looked pretty sharp.

By the time they left the room, Nick had gone through three cigarettes and pocketed what was left of the pack for later 'bathroom breaks.' It seemed he had it worse than Flint, who had stopped after the first one.

It was pretty obvious Nick had a smoking addiction. Of course, it probably worked to his advantage around here. Smoking enhanced his 'bad-boy' image almost certainly, especially since he managed to keep the teachers in the dark about it most of the time.

He may live to regret it if he picks up lung cancer, though…

The lunch room was on the first floor. The lunch line ran like most schools would. Get a tray, get your food, sit down, and eat. This morning they were serving pancakes with watery syrup and a cup of fruit.

Guess with all the high-class upsides, they decided to draw the line at food? Oh, well. It was edible at least.

Nick got a tray of food, but didn't even touch it. His hunger was probably stifled thanks to the excess tobacco and smoke this morning. Jeff tried to eat his, but only managed two bites before he felt sick. He hadn't had much of an appetite since way back when he was first arrested, and the second-hand smoke he was constantly exposed to around here probably didn't help.

Flint was the only one who ate the whole meal, no problem.

After breakfast was school. They had four basic academic classes. Class schedules were based on your assigned hallway, so Jeff had all of his classes with both Nick and Flint.

1st period – Physics with Mr. Storm

2nd period – English III with Ms. Berry

3rd period – Pre-calc with Mr. Bates

and 4th period – Government with Ms. Clarke.

The classes went by quickly. It was kind of weird to only have four academic classes, but nice all the same. Less stress. That would certainly be good for him, since he was already stressed to his core. No matter how nice the facility, it was still, basically, a prison. That knowledge alone haunted Jeff.

Immediately after their academics, they took part in Group Therapy. The teacher here was a therapist by the name of Dr. Reed. The desks in here were positioned in a semi-circle, facing the teacher's desk.

Jeff took a seat beside Nick. He didn't know anyone else here, and Nick seemed to be the only one who didn't act repulsed at the sight of him. Of course, the brunette didn't treat him particularly nice, but what other choice did Jeff have?

"Good afternoon, class!" Dr. Reed greeted them very cheerfully. He looked at Jeff. "I heard we've got a new student here today. What is your name?"

Jeff blinked at the teacher, taken off guard. Sure, bring even more attention to me… "Jeff," he answered, trying to sound confident in the midst of all the stares of the other delinquents.

Vaguely, he thought he heard someone whisper, "I thought his name was Griffin?"

"Well, Jeff, welcome to Group Therapy," he said, his optimism seeming to be excessively forced. "Is there anything you wish to talk about to start off your first day here with the class?"

Jeff shook his head. "No, thank—I mean, not really." He felt nervous. Like he was breaking under the peer pressure. To fit it. To be like everyone else, just to avoid being the tortured outcast.

"Very well," Dr. Reed said. "So, class… Today, I thought we should discuss society's expectations for you guys once you are released."

"Expectations? Hah!" someone scoffed. "Society expects nothing out of us. Besides maybe working a drive-thru. Or dealing drugs. Or just getting sent back to prison."

"That's actually a good point, Jake," Dr. Reed said appraisingly. "Yes, society may expect the worst at first. But if you show them that you can be a Good Samaritan, they'll begin to trust you again. Sure, it won't be easy. It'll take time and work. But once you decide to put your mistakes behind you, you will succeed."

Put what behind me? I didn't do anything… How is it fair that I'm going to struggle the rest of my life, coping with something I didn't even do? Nothing in his life seemed fair anymore.

Jeff glanced sideways at Nick, curious to see how his skeptical eyes may be ridiculing this lesson. He was taken by surprise, however, when he found that the 'ultimate bad-boy' seemed to be paying attention and listening. His expression was unreadable, though, so Jeff couldn't exactly tell if he was taking it to heart or was just plain listening.

Although it made him feel guilty to realize he had, in fact, already judged Nick. Sure, the brunette acted like a big bad boy, smoked, talked about drugs, lead a prison gang… but that was just the surface. It was stretching things, but maybe Nick wasn't so bad deep down? It was always possible, even if only slightly.

Jeff wasn't bad at all, yet he found himself lying to fit in and stay safe. Who's to say he wasn't the only one? Any person in this room could be truly good at heart.

He hated to think someone would judge him for his time here. Just because he was in a correctional facility, it didn't mean he was a bad person. It pained him to think that, no matter where he went after his two years here, people would most definitely treat him like he was still a criminal.

"I know what most of you are thinking," Dr. Reed said softly to the group. "Society will never take you seriously again. There will always be dirty looks sent to you. People will whisper about what things you might have done. Mothers will pull their children closer when you get too near. No college will accept a criminal. No employer will hire a delinquent. And that is just how things are. It's pointless to even try. It's too late to fix yourself now." He paused. "But you're wrong." Dr. Reed's eyes swept across the room. "You can make a difference. You can show the world what you're capable of. Don't let your mistakes define you. You can fight the obstacles standing in your way. I believe in you."

…

"Ugh. That class was so lame," Nick muttered the complaint as they exited into the hallway. "As usual."

Flint mumbled in agreement. "I need a smoke before my stupid drug class," he said. "Join me?"

"Yeah. I have Anger Management next. It's worse than Group Therapy," Nick agreed. He looked to Jeff. "You have any other classes?"

Jeff held out his schedule for Nick to see.

"Oh, lucky you," Nick said. "No rehabilitation classes yet."

"That's 'cuz he's a goddamn fairy," Flint muttered.

"You're free for the day, Blondie," Nick said, ignoring Flint. He paused. "Well, metaphorically." He turned to join Flint on their 'smoking break.'

Jeff was called aside by Dr. Reed before he could escape back to his dorm and hide from the reality of this nightmare for the rest of the night.

"Why don't we chat in my office?" Dr. Reed suggested. "You need to get your first private therapy session over with soon, anyways. Why not get it over with now?"

Jeff agreed enthusiastically, of course, thrilled to have the chance to spend some lovely quality time with Dr. Reed while they delved into Jeff's personal emotional issues and…

No, wait. That wasn't how it happened. Jeff just mumbled a dull, "Fine," and slinked off to follow the doctor to his office. But close enough, right?

They went to Dr. Reed's smaller, more enclosed office. It looked like the typical therapist office with carpeted floor, a leather sofa, a desk, and a few chairs. Dr. Reed first went to the filing cabinet by his desk. He pulled a yellow folder from inside before he sat at one of the chairs. Jeff could only assume it must be his file, complete with his 'supposed' criminal record and all.

Jeff sat at the end of one of the sofas awkwardly. He'd never been to therapy before, and from what he'd heard, it wasn't a fun thing. "So, Jeff," Dr. Reed said. "Your file looks very neat up until a few months ago. Never a step out of line," he commented quietly. "Do you want to talk about what led you to rob a gas station?"

Oh, yes. Gas station. He'd told everyone else it'd been an electronic store, just because that sounded better. But Nick was all bent on changing that detail, too. In time, Jeff might forget what his 'crime' actually was. Unless, of course, Dr. Reed wanted to repeatedly remind him of it. Then he'd neverforget his real imaginary crime.

"There's nothing to talk about," Jeff said. "Literally. I didn't do it." You won't believe me, though. The cops didn't, my parents didn't, my friends didn't, and the judge surely didn't.

Dr. Reed sighed. "Look, Jeff," Dr. Reed said. "It's totally confidential in here. You don't have to worry about what anyone else will say or think. Whatever you say will be for my ears only."

"Cool," Jeff said. "But that doesn't change the fact that I really didn't do anything."

Dr. Reed studied him for a long minute. "You'd be surprised at how many people come in here and say that to me," he said finally. "Out there, they may act like they're so proud of what they've done, but in here, they fight to deny it. It's always just a ploy to try to get out of here. Or it's denial." He leaned back against the chair. "In any case, I can't do anything if I truly believe you're innocent, Jeff. I'm not a man of the law. I'm a doctor. But I can help you heal and overcome your mistakes. If you let me."

In other words, Jeff was stuck here for two years no matter what at this point. It was pointless to even argue. Just accept it?

He didn't think he could ever accept this. He was going to waste two years of his life here, for a crime he never committed. Chances are, his time here will end up ruining many chances he could have had for certain colleges or jobs… His life was screwed over all because he'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"So, are you ready to talk?"

"Fine," Jeff muttered. Just don't expect any breakthroughs.

"Good." Dr. Reed opened the yellow folder. "Do you get along with your family?"

Jeff shrugged. "I guess. I never really talked to my parents much. They're always busy," he answered simply. They owned a business and always had to travel and work, so Jeff was pretty much a second thought for them half of the time.

"Would you say that they neglected you?"

"No," Jeff said. "Depends on your definition, though. I had plenty of food and clothes. I went to a nice school. I got most of the things I wanted. I was actually kind of spoiled, I think."

Dr. Reed nodded thoughtfully. "But you'd say they didn't give you much attention, right?"

Jeff shrugged. "I guess."

He nodded and wrote something down. "Have you ever taken any sort of drugs?"

"Not unless they were prescribed or over-the-counter," Jeff mumbled.

"And what about alcohol?"

"I've only ever drank once or twice," Jeff answered. Yeah, see? I don't fit any of these regular stereotypes. Happy?

Mr. Reed nodded. "Why don't we return to family?" he decided.

Why? Because that's the only thing that was slightly wrong in my life? "I'm not mentally unstable, if that's what you're trying to drive at," Jeff said. "And even if I was, it sure as hell wouldn't be because of my family."

"I know," Dr. Reed said. "I'd just like a little more information."

Yeah, right.

Still, Jeff submitted. Snapping at the therapist wouldn't help him in getting out early with good behavior. The rest of Dr. Reed's questions were just more in depth on his parents and home life, such as possible abuse, whether or not his parents drank, if they'd ever done drugs, and so on.

No, his parents weren't abusive. And no, they didn't drink or do drugs. They were just incredibly emotionally distant. Growing up, Jeff's parents never scolded him on bad report card grades, never sat down to dinner with him to ask about his day, never wanted to meet any of his friends, and they never even celebrated Christmas as a family. Sure, they'd buy him gifts, but they never sat in the living room on Christmas morning to open presents and enjoy a holiday breakfast. They were always too busy with themselves.

Jeff's one role model was his older brother, Jared. Growing up, they were really close and Jared had been more of a parental figure to Jeff than either of his parents. He'd moved out to live in Seattle after college and now worked as a 'mental health and substance abuse social worker.'

It was actually kind of ironic, when Jeff thought about it. Dr. Reed here probably had the same type of education, just maybe with a little more college. Jared only had four years so far, but he planned to go for a master's degree later.

He wondered if Jared knew he was here now. Jeff had called him and told him about it back when they were dealing with court and lawyers and such, but he hadn't had a chance to call him and let him know that he'd been convicted. His parents may have done it for him… but he didn't think he really wanted Jared to know.

What if he believed Jeff had done it, too?

…

The private therapy session lasted a while and Jeff was eventually released. No diagnosis or breakthroughs, of course. Just a lot of pointless banter about Jeff's family issues. When he was let free, he went to his dorm and skipped the Rec Room.

He unlocked the door to find that Flint and Nick were already here. Flint was sitting atop his bunk, which was stripped of its blankets and sheets for some reason. Nick was in front of the dresser on his knees, ransacking one of the drawers frantically. There were clothes all over the floor and most of the other drawers were totally cleaned out.

"God, Nick, just let it go already," Flint was muttering as Jeff entered.

"Shut the fuck up," Nick snapped back at him. When the drawer was emptied, he angrily jerked it from the dresser and it crashed at Jeff's feet.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Jeff demanded in confusion.

"Mr. Darke had our room searched during school today," Flint answered, much more calmly than Nick.

"They took all of our goddamn cigarettes," Nick hissed.

"Oh," Jeff mumbled. What else was there to say? He understood that Nick had a pretty bad addiction to nicotine, especially with this little freak-out here. Judging by the mess in the room, he wasn't dealing with the material loss very well...

"I need to smoke," Nick muttered, storming across the room to ransack the bottom bunk of Flint's bunk bed.

"Damnit, Nick, I told you already!" Flint spat. "It's no fucking use! Forget it! They're gone!"

"Shut up!" Nick repeated.

"My bro said he'd sneak some to me next time he visited," Flint told him. "Two days. So chill out."

"I can't wait two whole fucking days for a cigarette!"

Yikes. He was pretty pissed off about this. Jeff stepped out of the way when Nick gave up on Flint's side of the room and stomped over to his and Jeff's side.

"Why not take this as an opportunity to quit?" Jeff suggested without thinking. He wished he'd kept it to himself the moment it slipped from his mouth.

As he'd anticipated, Nick whirled on him furiously. He lashed out and grasped the knot of Jeff's tie roughly, eyes burning. "Don't tell me what to do, Blondie, and mind your own goddamn business!" he spat uncomfortably close to Jeff's face. "You think you know what withdrawal is like? It's fucking Hell. But you wouldn't know because you're just a perfect little bitch!" With that said, he shoved Jeff away forcefully.

Jeff staggered back in the direction of the bunk bed. He felt a sharp flash of pain when the back of his head smashed against the frame of the upper bunk before he landed awkwardly on his own bed. He winced in pain and subconsciously felt the back of his head for any bleeding.

Dry, but it hurt. Badly. He was going to have a headache later… Vaguely, he heard Flint laughing. "Way to teach the faggot a lesson, Nick," he said approvingly.

Nick ignored Flint and went back to searching. He showed no remorse for what he'd done to Jeff, unsurprisingly.

What did Jeff expect? He was a nicotine addict, and who know what other drugs he may have tried. Not to mention he assaulted someone with a knife and nearly killed them. To expect he would hesitate in violence was a mistake on Jeff's part.

But he thought that Nick might actually kind of like him a little. Just slightly? Guess that was also a mistake…

It could be the withdrawal speaking, but still. That was a bit too harsh. And the words stung.

Again, Jeff felt the loneliness kicking in. All he could do was deal with the torture and insults from everyone else, because everyone here hated him. No one was on his side. He was alone.

Look at the bright side, Jeff thought bitterly, only two years left to go.