A/N: I'm feeling generous, so I thought I'd update again this week. I only have one more chapter written (as I've been lazy the last few days and haven't gotten much done on chapter 12), so I probably won't update again as soon, but I will soon enough!

I still love this story very much and my renewed effort to start writing it again has made writing feel like pulling teeth. Alas, I am writing anyway! I hope it's not too horribly written (as I didn't really quit writing to begin with… I was distracted by a shiny boy, and then… erm…NCIS *ducks from tomatoes*, along with a terrible bout of writers block when it came to tslotat.)

Anyway, I've done my best to understand broken bones and gunshot wounds and all the medical things I've written about so far in this story, so I hope I'm doing justice to the injuries and the things I'm writing!

Also, in reference to funerals, I can say this: I've been to three - two catholic, and one that was just a basic service in a funeral home. The first I barely remember due to a panic attack in the middle of the service, and almost passed out. The second I really don't remember at all either (I took my GED tests the next week, so that's probably why :/) Honestly, what I remember my grandfather's funeral (the one that wasn't Catholic), is what I will be drawing from for this.

Chapter 10

Heartland

Amy yawned as she stepped out of the bathroom, holding her towel tightly around her body. She'd barely slept the night before, and she didn't have long before she'd have to get John up and dressed as well. She walked lazily towards her bedroom, dragging her feet as she padded down the hall. She pushed her bedroom door open slowly and crossed the room to her desk, here her dress hung next to it. She ran a hand down one of the seams and then walked over to her dresser and opened it up.

Ricky groaned as he awoke for the morning. He turned his head to look at her as she dropped her towel to the floor, slipping into her undergarments. He smirked at her.

Amy rolled her eyes, shaking her head she clasped her bra in front of herself, and then adjusted her straps. "You were supposed to stay asleep until I was dressed."

Ricky sat up and shrugged. "Sorry. I woke up when you left. Couldn't get back to sleep, I guess."

Amy nodded. She walked across the room and grabbed a pair of sweatpants lying over the chair in front of her desk. She pulled them on as best she could with one arm, and then grabbed a loose t-shirt from her closet and pulled that on as well.

"What time does the service start," Ricky asked as he wrapped his left arm under his leg and moved it over the side of the bed.

"At eleven," Amy murmured. She picked up her hairbrush off the desk and began running it through her hair, pulling out the knots. "I'm gonna get John up around ten."

Ricky nodded, using the nightstand to push himself up onto his good leg. "I'll be so happy when I can use one of these limbs," he murmured.

Amy turned around, pulling a hair tie onto her wrist so that she could have Ashley or her mom pull her hair back once she made it downstairs. She tipped her head to the side and nodded. "Yeah, I bet it's not all that easy."

Ricky nodded, staring almost hatefully down at his leg. "Two more weeks and then I can start physical therapy. I guess that's the plus side."

Amy crossed her good arm over her broken one. "I can't believe it's really been almost two weeks since that day. I mean I know you were in the hospital for a week, but it's just… It feels weird."

Ricky nodded again, hopping over to her desk. She walked over to him and slipped and arm under him, before they made their way over to the door to begin the obstacle descending the stairs.

"I can't imagine how crazy today is going to be, especially after yesterday," he murmured.

Amy yawned as she settled in a chair next to Ricky's wheelchair. A large quantity of the student body had shown up to the joint funeral. It was crazy just trying to find a place to sit, and people were commiserating with each other in small circles, but the minute you tried to take a seat already reserved, five people chimed in to tell you it was their spot.

She ran a hand through her bangs and look around at all the people standing around near them. Most were chatting with other people, but a few circles were praying, and some outright arguing. She scoffed in disgust.

"Five people just brought guns into our school and killed 32 people. How can anyone think it's okay to be arguing at a time like this? Why would they want to," she cried.

Ricky looked up at her and shook his head. He reached up and brush his thumb over her cheek. "Because they're stupid. Just try to ignore it."

Amy shook her head, running her hand down her dress. She looked around again, spotting teachers talking to each other. Most of the female teachers she spotted were crying, with their husbands and boyfriends, or with other teachers.

She crossed one knee over the other and rested her elbow on her knee, dropping her chin in the palm of her hand. Ricky brushed her bangs out of her face. "What're you thinking about?"

Amy looked up at him, shrugging. "How we've been to five funerals in the last week, and there's still more to come."

"Just today and then tomorrow," Ricky assured her. "You don't have to go if-"

Amy shook her head, cutting him off. "I can't not go to my best friend's funeral. I've known Lauren since I was in kindergarten."

Before Ricky could say anything else, several teachers walked up to them. Amy recognized some of them. Mr. Sedlack stood in the middle of them, with a woman that Amy assumed was his daughter. She looked old enough to have graduated high school, but not college. Mr. Sedlack was a man in his late fourties, with graying hair and crystal blue eyes. He had a love for music that came across every time they were in practice.

Alongside him was a teacher that taught Calculus, and unlike Ricky, Amy abhorred math class, so she took basic algebra and geometry, while he excelled in Calc. one and two, as well as trigonometry.

The woman was a few inches taller than Amy, in her late twenties, and standing with her husband, who was a biology teacher.

"It's good to see you both here," Mr. Sedlack told them.

Ricky nodded, and Amy did as well. They both knew what he really meant was that he was glad to see they were both still alive.

The girl standing next to him furrowed her brow at Ricky. "You're the kid that got carried out of the school," she observed.

Ricky looked down at the ground, blushing slightly. "Yeah, but don't tell the reporters that. We've been trying to avoid them."

"Seem to be doing a good job of it," the calculus teacher told them. "I have yet to see any of the interviews all the newspapers and stations claim they're having with either of you."

Ricky chuckled. "I haven't talked to a single reporter. They tried to bug me in the hospital, but they never got past security, let alone the first floor."

The girl laughed, and it took everything within Amy to not roll her eyes in disgust. It was sick, how girls seemed to be willing to go to any lengths to get Ricky's attention.

"So are you guys going to be teaching at Van Nuys when we go back?" Ricky shifted in his chair, trying to ignore Mr. Sedlack's daughter.

The calculus teacher nodded. "We'll have classes in the afternoon. The freshman will have new teachers eventually… For now the Van Nuys will be teaching them."

There was a depressive feeling falling over the outdoor service as the conversation seemed to come to an end. Talking about teachers dying, guns in a school… It felt so taboo whenever they were around adults. Talking to their friends was easier, and they knew the reporters were more likely to exploit them than really listen.

Groups of conversation dragged on a while longer, until people split off and started taking their seats at the mention of services about to start. Rows of seats filled in front of them, and even more behind them. Roughly two hundred white chairs had been placed out on the grass, but while people were splitting off, it was clear that the quantity of mourners outweighed the chairs. Some people stood on either side of the rows of chairs. Others sat in the grass. Few groups brought blankets to sit on.

Adrian and Grace spotted Amy and Ricky as the last seats were filling in, and took the last two seats open - just next to Amy. Ben and Jack stood next to Ricky's wheelchair. Ricky reached his hand under the brace of Amy's sling, offering comfort as best he could.

A man who looked to be about sixty stood, dressed in a basic black suit, and walked to the front of the crowd. He wore square, wire-framed glasses over soft, chocolate brown eyes. His hair was a light grey, like that of clouds on a rain day. He smiled at the vast crowd.

"Today, we come together, to mourn the loss of two wonderful people. Friends, family, students and mentors alike, all had something in common. You knew these people."

Amy stared hard a the two caskets that were behind the man speaking. One was a steel baby blue, with no frills to it. The one that stood next to it was a dark mahogany stained wooden casket. She knew both of the teachers that lie in them.

Caitlyn Benoit was the freshman English teacher. She was fresh out of college and well liked among the students. Amy had excelled in her class, and she'd been more than willing to help her, in all the days she'd been forced to miss days before and after John was born. She was one of the few teachers who hadn't treated Amy like she was the plague after the whole school knew she was pregnant, and refusing to transfer.

She was also an only child, to rich parents, and engaged to be married in the fall.

Ryan Weatherly wasn't far off from her. He was a man in his early thirties, and taught freshman history. He hadn't been as welcoming to Amy after the school found out about John, but he was well liked among most students as well. He was also known to be arrogant and willing to test his students resolve on occasions.

He was married, with a three year old son, and 18 month old twin girls. Unlike Mrs. Benoit though, he and his wife weren't rich. They were working class.

"Neither of these two people really got the option to live a full life," the man spoke mournfully to them. "Caitlyn, or Kate, as her friends and family knew her, was one year out of college and set to marry in October. She was a daughter, a sister, and a friend to man.

Ryan was a father to three, and a husband. He was a son, and a brother.

Both of these people deserved more than the endings they received."

The man paused. Sniffles and sobs could be heard amongst the crowd. Amy squeezed Ricky's hand as best she could.

"Speaking on behalf of Caitlyn will be her fiancé, Anthony Thompson. Following that will be Valerie Weatherly, speaking on behalf of her husband, Ryan."

Amy pushed her spoon around her cereal bowl, scooping and dropping pieces of her fruity pebbles now and again. She really wasn't all that hungry, nor did she feel up to eating on a day like this. Out of all the funerals she'd attended so far, this one was probably the worst.

George settled a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her and pulled the bowl of uneaten cereal out from under her spoon.

"C'mon Ames. You gotta eat something today. You've barely touched anything at all this week," he encouraged.

Amy shrugged, handing off her fork to her father. She reached up and grabbed the fork resting on the plate in front of her, and cut off a piece of egg for herself. She lifted it to her mouth and munched quietly on it while her father returned the other side of the kitchen, preparing a plate for Ricky.

"Are you sure you want to go," Ricky asked her again. "You don't have to-"

Amy glared up at him. "I said I'm going. Now please stop asking me that."

"Okay," Ricky surrendered. He turned his attention to the plate George was settling on the table for him. He picked up a piece of bacon off of it and began to chew on it.

George settled his own plate on the table next to Amy, and walked over to the fridge. He removed something over a magnet and then walked back over to the table and sat down. He settled the piece of paper next to Amy's plate.

"That's the name of a therapist your mother and I found. He's willing to see you on Tuesday," he told her.

Ricky looked up at the both of them tentatively.

"I don't want to go talk to anyone," Amy growled lowly at him.

George looked up at her. He was doing his very quite concerned for Amy, but his frustration was on the verge boiling over, and he was ready to yell at her for the way she was treating everyone so far.

"Look, Amy, do what you want. Go or don't go. Your mother and I think it might help. We're wiling to go with you if you want someone there with you. Or you can go alone if you'd like."

Amy clenched her jaw and shook her head, staring hard at the piece of paper next to her plate. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine," Ricky told her.

She looked up at him, surprised at him.

"You're not," he repeated. "None of us are. And I used to think talking to people wouldn't help anything either, but sometimes it does. Sometimes it helps just to have someone you can scream at, who won't scream back."

"I don't want to talk to anyone," she insisted. "I don't need to."

George nodded, chewing up a bite of his food. He brushed his napkin across his face. "Like I said, go or don't go. That's really your choice, Ames."

Amy huffed, and took several more bites out of her food before she pushed away from the table and walked away. She walked down the hall to the foyer and stomped up the stairs. Once she'd reached the top of them, she stepped in the bathroom and turned on the faucet. She ran the water for a few seconds and then cupped as much as she could before she splashed her face with cool water.

The door creaked behind her, and she looked up to see her mother standing there, holding John.

"What's up," Amy asked as she turned the water off.

Anne shrugged. Amy walked over to her, retrieving John as he opened and closed his hands at her. He rested his head on her shoulder.

"You sure you about going to this today," Anne asked her.

Amy groaned. "Yes,mom! I wish everyone would stop asking me that. I wish everyone would stop telling me to go talk to someone. This isn't something that's just going to disappear once the funerals are over!"

Anne nodded. "I know, Amy. But bottling up all your feelings won't help either. There's nothing wrong with needing to talk to someone about how you feel. It doesn't make you crazy."

"Really, mom? Because the whole school thought Ricky was when they found out that he was in therapy," Amy chided.

Anne shook her head. "That's not really fair though, is it? We see a dentist if we have a toothache. You go to the doctor if you're throwing up. You take your car in if it's making a funny noise, and no one ever has a problem with those appointments. Sometimes you need to check in with your feelings though too. If you don't like therapy, you don't have to go again, but at least give it a shot, Amy. Please."

Amy rolled her eyes and shook her head as her bottom lip trembled. "I want to rewind all this."

Anne hugged her lightly, and ruffled John's hair. "I know, Amy, but you can't. You're gonna have to go into it head on and ready to fight instead."

Amy sighed and blinked a few times to get the tears out of her eyes. "I hate that we're going back to school next week too."

"It's only a couple of hours a day," Anne reminded her gently. "The year will be over before you know it. And you'll be on easy duty at the nursery for a month or so until your arm heals."

Amy exhaled heavily and stepped past Anne as she moved aside. She crossed the hall into John and Robbie's room, and walked over to the changing table. She settled John there while she retrieved a diaper from under it. She set it aside and then laid John down as best she could so that she could change him.

Anne walked over to her with a pair of black jeans and a plain dark blue onesie. Amy fussed with John's pajama's and diaper before she got him cleaned up and then stepped aside so her mother could redress him properly.

"I feel like I'm helpless to do anything for him or Ricky," she said sadly.

Anne nodded as she slipped the onesie over John's head. "I'm sure that must hurt emotionally. Just keep reminding yourself that Ricky will be able to walk again soon. We were all lucky that the worst of his problems coming out of that school was blood loss."

Amy shuddered at the memory. Seeing all that blood on the floor just before they'd left the building was more than she ever had hoped to see. "I can't believe that that was the worst of it, after how many times he was shot."

Anne nodded. "You both were lucky."

"Luckier than most," Amy muttered under her breath.

For as little as she and Ashley were being granted access to see information on other victims in the shooting - victims who were shot by their fellow classmates - they had found out quite a bit. Of the dozen or so kids who were shot and survived, seven had broken bones. Three had some internal bleeding, and were still in the hospital. Two kids, boys on the school soccer team, had both been shot in the head and survived, but the prognosis wasn't good. One the doctors didn't expect to ever walk again. The other, as others were saying, would likely be in a vegetative state for the rest of his life.

"Why don't you go try and get changed into your dress as best you can," Anne told her. "I'll come in as soon as I get Robbie up, and get you zipped up."

"Okay," Amy said quietly. She walked over to her mom and picked up John once she'd gotten him dressed, and walked into her room with him. Once she was in there, she set him inside the pack and play, which she still kept next to her bed, and then walked over to her door and closed it. She began to remove her clothes and took a moment to examine the cut she'd gotten across her chest on the day of the shooting. It had pretty much healed up. There was a bit of scabbing here and there, but it was otherwise healed over, and scarring well.

She used her feet to pull at the legs of her pants and shimmied out of them. It took her about a minute, but she managed to get out of them. She kicked them over to the side of her bed and then walked over to her desk and reached up with her good arm to unzip her dress. She pulled it down and pulled it over her head. She slipped her injured arm into it first, and then her good arm.

Anne entered the room a few moments later and settled Robbie in the pack and play with John before she walked over to Amy and zipped up her dress for her. Amy turned around once she had and grabbed her brace off her desk, and offered it up to her mom. Anne took it from her, though she ran a hand down the outside of Amy's arm first.

"It looks like it's healing nice," she told her."

"You say that every day," Amy reminded her.

Anne just smiled at her and then placed the brace under Amy's arm before she wrapped the strap through and the sling and over the shoulder like it was supposed to be. She was right, though. The bruising on Amy's arm had faded away considerably, leaving only a few dark spots here and there. Most of it had faded to the yellowish shade, or was gone completely. There were stitches that needed to be removed, but she was otherwise healed up on the surface.

"Would you like me to do something with your hair," Anne asked her.

Amy shrugged. "I figured you could just put it up in a ponytail or something."

"Okay," Anne said. Amy extended her arm to her mother, revealing the hair tie she still had on her wrist. Anne took it from her and then grabbed Amy's hairbrush and began brushing her hair back behind her head. Amy quickly pulled her bangs from the hair pulled back, and brushed them aside.

Once Anne had her hair pulled up, Amy grabbed a barrette and clipped her bangs up to the side of her head. She looked up at her mom for approval.

"You look nice," Anne told her. "I'm sure your father has already woken up your sister. I'll just need to get changed and then I'll grab Robbie and we'll be downstairs too. Is Ricky going?"

Amy nodded. "He hates that dad's been helping him get dressed."

"Well even if you could help him, I'm not sure your father and I would let you," her mother told her. "He'll be up a limb in a few weeks. Until then, he's just going to have to accept the help."

Amy nodded, picking John up out of the pack and play. "I don't think it's that he doesn't like dad so much as it's that he just doesn't trust men," she explained. "With his- with Bob…"

Anne nodded again. "That's understandable."

Amy looked down at John and smiled. "We're going to go downstairs. See you in a bit?"

Anne nodded.

-
Things are looking up, oh finally
I thought I'd never see the day when you'd smile at me
-

It had taken all Amy had in her to keep from falling apart as soon as they walked into the funeral home where Lauren's funeral was. Her stomach had turned into knots on the drive over and she had all but squeezed all the blood out of Ashley's hand by the time they arrived. Ricky, John, and George had taken her father's car while Anne had driven with Amy, Ashley, and Robbie.

She spotted Lauren's parents right after walking into the building and looked felt her knees shake. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to go talk to them, or run in the other direction. She looked over at Ashley, and could see the same dilemma playing on her face. Ashley had told her about how she hadn't been able to help Lauren that day in the school. She walked over to her and grabbed her hand. Ashley squeezed it lightly.

Together, they walked over to Lauren's parents. Dr. Fields nodded to the both of them. Jason hugged both of them. Amy stopped completely in front of Lauren's mother. She hugged Amy and Ashley as well.

"You should come by sometime this week," she said through tears. "You and Madison can have a few of her things, if you'd like. I'm sure she had some of your clothes at the very least."

Amy nodded slowly; her bottom lip trembling at the threat of more tears.

She and Ashley walked away from Lauren's parents. They stopped a few feet over from a crowd of students talking, and Amy hugged Ashley.

Ashley released her a moment later and muttered a thanks. Amy nodded, looking around at the people in the room. She didn't know most of them.

Ashley quickly backed away and Amy turned her attention to why. Madison was practically charging at her. Amy welcomed the hug that she received from her, and they cried into each others shoulders for several minutes.

"It didn't feel real before now," Madison sniffled, wiping away her tears.

Amy nodded, hiccupping as she brushed away some of her own tears. "I know. I keep waiting for my phone to ring, and it to be her."

Madison nodded as well. "Or for her to show up on my doorstep with movies and popcorn."

Amy laughed softly as more tears fell down her face. "She did like to do that a lot."

Madison's father walked over to them, quickly flanked by Amy's parents and Ricky, who had John sitting in his lap.

"The service is about to start, girls," Madison's said.

Amy slipped her arm through Madison's, and they all walked to the third row of chairs settled in the room. In front of them sat various members of Lauren's family, as well as her parents and brother. John reached out for Amy and she took him. Everyone else continued to take their seats, and within minutes, everyone was settled.

Lauren's dad stood a few minutes later, and nodded to all of them. He walked over to the podium that was set alongside the closed casket. He was dressed simply, in a black sweater and black dress pants.

"We'd like to thank all of you that were able to make it today. This is…"

He trailed off and gripped the sides of the podium, looking down at the floor.

Amy and Madison exchanged a look, and then both turned to look at Lauren's mom and brother. Her mom was on the edge of her seat, seemingly ready to jump up.

Dr. Fields looked up at all of them and shook his head. "Lets be honest: I can't mince words that will make this sound good. Dozens of kids died."

He paused again and raised a hand to his forehead, scratching it with the back of his thumb. "I'm sorry. I know a lot of you were there; some of you were even injured."

His vision drifted to Ricky. Ricky dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Lauren was a friend to everyone who met her. She strived to be great at everything she tried, and she hated to fail. She was funny, and she was ambitious. She dreamed about being in the Peace Corps when she graduated high school. She wanted a lot for her life. More than the instant gratification of a few kids with guns."

He stopped once more and shook his head as several tears ran down his face. "You know, the words I'm looking for really aren't displaying their affection to me at the moment. All I know all the things I'm never going to see or hear from my daughter again. So," he gripped the podium again, struggling to hold in a sob. "I'm going to leave this to the two people who knew Lauren best. Her best friends."

Amy whipped her head around to look at Madison. She knew nothing about this. No one had told her she would be speaking at Lauren's funeral, and truth be told, she wasn't quite sure she'd actually be able to do it. Her gaze drifted to her parents, whose faces were covered in confusion as to why they hadn't known about this sooner.

"I don't…I don't know if I can," Amy muttered quietly, turning her attention to Ricky. "I can't…"

He reached over and squeezed her hand. "You can."

Madison stood and offered her arm to Amy. "I'll talk if you want. Just stand with me?"

Amy looked up at her timidly. Her bottom lip trembled at the idea, but she nodded a moment later, and stood. Ricky took John from her, and she and Madison walked up to the podium. Once they were each standing on either side, Amy crossed her good arm over her broken arm, and let her gaze drift around different spots on the floor. The room was eerily silent.

"Lauren would love this," Madison laughed after a minute.

Amy looked up at her, surprised at the comment. She nodded a moment later though.

"Yeah, she would," she agreed. "For about five minutes. And then she'd tell everyone to move on to the next subject."

Madison nodded, smiling sadly. "She really drove for attention from people a lot, but as soon as she had it, she didn't want it anymore. I mean, we're just kids, and we wanted what everyone else wants-"

"To be popular," Amy murmured. "It sounds so stupid now."

Madison nodded again. "She was the kind of person who would give and give and give to achieve something, and then when she finally got it, she didn't care." She laughed quietly and then shook her head. "I remember last year we auditioned d up for the school play, and it was so funny, because I got to get up and try out before her. All these girls were there, and they were all arguing over who would do what song, and kept cutting each other in order of who would audition, so she kept getting pushed back. I said I'd wait for her, so anyway, these girls are all arguing with each other, and all of a sudden she whistles really loudly. The teachers hadn't been able to get them all to calm down so they thought it was funny. So, she finally gets her moment to audition, and she looked at me and said 'let's blow this. I've never seen something so ridiculous'. And so we left."

The people in the rows in front of them laughed. Amy and Madison shared a look. The ache of a missing piece was there, and tears flooded Amy's eyes.

"Lauren deserved better than this. She was the kind of person who would tell you off for the things you were doing wrong, and then still be there to forgive you when you realized she was right. She really was a good person. She didn't deserve this."

She nodded at Madison's words, and looked back at the casket behind her. She crossed her arms tighter.

"I don't know how to say goodbye, and I absolutely refuse to," Amy murmured. Everyone turned their attention to her. She ran her hand over her clipped-down bangs. "It's not right. Wherever she is now, I'll see her again one day, and goodbye feels too final, so I'll go with see you later."

She turned around and looked at the casket again. "See you later, Lauren."

Madison slipped her arm through Amy's, and rested her chin on her shoulder. "See you, Lo."

They both looked over at Lauren's parents, who both nodded to them. Dr. Fields mouthed a thank you to them, and they both walked over to their seats as a song started to play on the speakers.

"you escape like a runaway train
off the tracks and down again
my heart's beating like a steam boat
tugging all your burdens
on my shoulders

in the mourning, I'll rise
in the morning, I'll let you die
in the mourning, all my worry

now there's nothing but time that's wasted
and words that have no backbone
oh the whole world
seems to be waiting
can you hear the echoes fading

in the mourning, I'll rise
in the mourning, I'll let you die
in the mourning, all my sorrys…"

People began to stand and file down into a row to pass by the casket. Amy shook her head as her parents offered up the option, and instead accepted a hug from both of them. Ashley hugged her as well. She turned to Ricky, who was pulling repetitively on her hand. Ashley took John from him, and he pulled Amy down into his lap.

"I don't want to hurt you," she cried.

He shook his head at her and wrapped his arm around her in a hug. She slipped her arm under his and sobbed quietly into his shoulder.

She didn't know how long she sat there, but it had to have been more than ten minutes, because when she finally managed to start pulling herself together, the room had emptied out pretty far. There were only a few people left straggling in the room besides Amy's family, Madison and her dad, and Lauren's parents and brother.

Dr. Fields and Lauren's mother walked over to them. Amy and Ricky looked up at them.

"Those were nice things you girls said," Dr. Fields told them. He smiled at both Amy and Madison as best he could. They both nodded at him.

"We'll be having a cookout at our place after this. You're all more than welcome," her mother offered.

"I really just want to go home right now," Amy murmured to them. "I'm sorry." She rested her head wearily on Ricky's shoulder, and he ran his hand up and down comfortingly on her back.

Both Lauren's parents nodded.

"We're going to go get in the car, Amy," Anne told Amy. Amy nodded to them and then turned her attention back to Ricky. When she turned back around, Lauren's mother had walked away, but Dr. Fields had squatted down on the side of Ricky's chair.

"I'll see you this week," he asked Ricky.

Ricky nodded. "Every day," he muttered. "Mom's orders."

Dr. Fields nodded. "You doing okay?"

Ricky nodded again. "Just need some sleep."

"Alright." He stood up straight and nodded to the both of them before exiting the room.

Amy sighed heavily and lifted her head up off of Ricky's shoulder. "Therapy every day?"

Ricky nodded again. "My mother thinks I'm going to crack 'any day now'. She wants me to talk to him so that I at least keep myself in check if I do."

"Can I go with you one day," Amy asked tentatively.

Ricky turned to look at her. "You want to?"

She nodded slowly. "My parents want me to talk to someone…Maybe it will help. I don't know."

Ricky shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe it will. They're all morning appointments because of going back to school. But yeah, you can come with me. Hell, you can come all week if you want."

Amy shook her head. "I don't want to take over your time. You should talk about what happened that day, even if it's just to him. I'm sure it's affected you in some way."

Ricky shook his head and smiled at her. "I'm great."

"Liar," Amy simpered. "You said that last time and then almost crashed your car."

"It happened," Ricky said quietly. "I can't change it. I can't change what he's done to me. I hate it, but I can't. I'd rather just forget, so I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Okay," Amy replied. "Just know I'm here to listen if you ever do want to talk about it."

Ricky gave a small smile. "I know."