YOU MUST READ CHRYSALISM BEFORE READING THIS STORY.

PETRICHOR WILL NOT MAKE SENSE WITHOUT THE BACKGROUND OF CHRYSALISM.

THANK YOU FOR READING :)

Riley

"Riley," Lucas greeted her at the door, and Riley stepped into the room slowly, noticing the other occupants.

"What's going on?" She asked, looking around at Farkle and the health counselor, as well as her ballet teacher.

"Your friends are worried about you," the health counselor spoke up, and Riley's face snapped to Lucas's. "They think you have a problem with weight and food."

Riley shook her head. "You think I'm fat?"

Lucas's eyes widened. "No Riley, just the opposite. We think you're too thin, we think you're not eating."

Riley closed her mouth, anger rising in her chest.

"I've noticed that you're getting lightheaded in class more often," her ballet teacher told her, "and you're getting thinner."

"So?" Riley asked hotly. "I'm a dancer, I work out a lot. It makes sense that I would tone down."

"But not this much," Farkle spoke up, and Riley turned to glare at him.

"Riley," her boyfriend said, and Riley's eyes shot back to him, "we're just worried about you."

"Why are you trying to trap me into something?" She demanded. It was just her and Lucas in the room then, no one else mattered. She kept her eyes straight on his as he frowned. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I care about you. I love you."

"Obviously not," Riley scoffed, jerking away when Lucas reached for her. "Don't touch me."

"Riley, I love you, I love you…"

Riley's eyes snapped open, and she jerked up into a sitting position, trying to calm her breathing. These were the kinds of nightmares she had been having recently - nightmares taking her back to Idyllwild, considering what might have happened if they had known, back then.

But of course, they had known.

She coughed, hard, loudly, feeling her chest and throat closing up, and her roommate, Savannah, rolled over.

"Riley, are you okay?" Savannah whispered across the room, and Riley couldn't speak for coughing.

She shook her head, dragging in breath, before choking out, "No."

It had been three months, and she had gained a total of ten pounds - and she was still only halfway to being released. Adult eating disorder treatment was a nightmare, especially since she was here against her will.

She had thought that being a legal adult meant that no one could 'commit' her to treatment against her will, but apparently Josh had found a loophole. She was 'a danger to herself' and was 'attempting to harm herself by not eating'.

In other words, Josh had convinced the doctors that she was suicidal. Which she was not.

But no one seemed to care about her opinion right now.

Mechanically, Riley slid out of bed and moved over to her dresser, where she had just a few pairs of clothing. She wasn't allowed to have strings or belts, nor real shoes. She also wasn't allowed to wear anything tight fitting or revealing - since it might be considered a trigger for other patients to see her body.

So she usually settled for pajama pants with an elastic waistband, and a long sleeved t-shirt. She knew it was summer; it was hot outside. But the ward was actually fairly cold, to all the patients. The doctors convinced the patients that they were cold because of the lack of insulation on their bodies.

In other words, the doctors were fat enough to stay warm in the cold.

The patients were thin enough to be cold.

Riley headed out to the nurses desk to get her toiletries, and returned to her room to enter the bathroom that she and Savannah shared. Savannah was still in bed, just getting up, and she eyed Riley as she passed Savannah.

In the bathroom, the mirror was just a square; just big enough for her to see her face and neck. They were not allowed full mirrors.

She brushed her hair and her teeth, washed her face and did her skin care routine - as much of it as she could, at least. Everything was changed, here, now. She felt like a child, or maybe a prisoner. All the restrictions they had imposed on her, felt like prison.

When Riley returned to the room, Savannah was standing up, rummaging through her dresser to find something she wanted to wear.

After two weeks with Riley's first roommate, who was released, Savannah had moved into Riley's room, and she had been there for six weeks. The things that Riley noticed about Savannah were the same things that Riley knew Savannah had probably known about her - their sleeping patterns (nightmares, really), their eating habits, their body states. They didn't really talk, but Riley had never really talked to any roommate she had ever had; why would Savannah be any different?

Savannah was twenty-two - seven years younger than Riley, although their ages didn't really seem to matter. Apparently Savannah had seeked treatment herself, after she had a wake up call from a friend.

It made Riley think about what might have happened, if her nightmares about Idyllwild had actually come true.

It was her pride; that was the only thing that kept her from begging Lucas, or Farkle, or even Maya from getting her out of this place. It was her very definition of hell, but she was too proud to beg to be released like some child from a time-out.

They did, eventually, remove the feeding tube; not until a week after they admitted her, though.

She refused to see her uncle, but she knew that he was talking to her doctors and nurses anyways.

She hated this. She hated her life, and she hated everyone, and she felt immature, but she was trapped and she didn't care.

She was not allowed to exercise, but she was allowed to stretch. And so she did. She spent two hours stretching every day, on the cold tile floor of her room, when Savannah had individual therapy and nutrition planning.

It wasn't that she was embarrassed to stretch in front of Savannah; she would just rather stretch alone. She'd rather be alone all the time, now, or whenever she could.

Solitude was what she craved, and what she wasn't allowed to have anymore.

Riley skipped group therapy in favor of a nap, but she woke up when someone touched her shoulder, and she rolled over to see her uncle's face. She rolled back over. "I'm asleep. Go away."

"Riley," Josh sighed. "We need to talk."

"I'm asleep," Riley repeated, her voice muffled from where she had drawn her covers over her face. "Later."

"No," Josh objected, pulling her covers down to expose her face. "Now."

Riley blinked up at him, annoyed. "How long will this take?"

"As long as it takes," Josh returned, crossing his arms to show that he was just as annoyed at how childish Riley was acting.

But if Josh wanted to treat Riley like a child, she didn't see a reason why she couldn't act like one.

"What's so important that it can't wait until after I'm awake?" Riley groaned, sitting up.

"You're plateauing," Josh informed her, as if she didn't know. "Why?"

Riley shrugged, knowing that he knew that she just didn't want to talk about it.

"You've stopped talking to your therapist, and you're refusing to see Maya or Lucas, and you haven't even talked to Farkle. You're isolating yourself, Riley, and you're slowing down on all the progress you've made. Why?" Josh asked, clearly needing an answer.

"Maybe I'm still processing the death of my best friend," Riley shrugged, her voice biting back at him even as her body language screamed 'nonchalant'.

"If that's true," Josh leaned forward, "then you should be talking to your therapist. And Maya, whose sister she was. And Farkle, who knew her personally."

"Maybe I just want to grieve privately," Riley shot back, turning back over. "But maybe I can't, because I've been forced to have a roommate, and I can literally never be alone. And maybe I never got closure, because maybe I was not allowed to go to my best friend's funeral. Don't think that I've forgotten that, Josh. You may think I'll forgive you for forcing me into treatment, but I'll never forgive you for keeping me from Helena's funeral."

Josh closed his eyes tightly. "I am sorry, Rily. I hated that I had to do that-"

"You didn't have to," Riley cut in. "You chose to. Now go away, Josh. I'm going back to sleep."

"Your doctors told me you're not sleeping," Josh changed the subject, and Riley sighed out loud in exasperation.

"I'm having nightmares," she admitted, hoping that if she gave him something he might go away.

"I can talk to your psychiatrist about prescribing sleeping pills. They might help with the nightmares," Josh offered.

"Or they might trap me in them," Riley pointed out.

"There are sleeping medications specifically for nightmare disorders," Josh informed her. "I'll suggest some to your psychiatrist."

"Cool," Riley replied, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. "In the meantime, I need a nap. Goodnight."

A/N: Hi everyone, I'm back!

I've been dealing with some deaths in my family, so I've had to take a break from updating for a week or so. I hope everyone is doing alright.

This is the first chapter of Petrichor, which is the sequel to Chrysalism! This book will start 3 months after the end of Chrysalism, and I'll go over what has been happening to everyone in those months between the two books.

I've got some ideas on what I want to write about in this book, but no solid outline yet, so don't expect too much updating too soon. I'm still updating on Anecdoche and I might get somewhere with Fanaa, if you are looking for new content from me in the meantime.

With the crazy world and times we are living in, I hope to get and give some solace in my writing.

Stay safe everyone.

Kisses,

C