The second and many days after at the Egbert's house were gross.

It was officially a month before school would start, I was starting to get into a routine.

Get up. Eat all three meals. Laze around. Read an assigned summer book for his school. Laze around some more. Try to take a ten-minute shower, pat down hair. Turn down cake. Sleep again but try not to sleep on my arm because it still hurt a bit from the…wreck.

I didn't do much, but I could tell the Egberts; John and his dad were keeping an eye on me. I would be sitting in the living room watching America's Next Top Model or just anything shitty and I would hear someone come into the room then exit. At least three times in the span of an hour this would happen.

To be intuitive about this fact did make tensions higher in the house since they knew I knew. I was just hanging onto the fact that I was still living even though something in my life was completely broken. I didn't want a therapist since I have never had one in my life, and I didn't want to start because I didn't want to be a burden. It cost money.

I was an orphan for now and legal papers were pending for my adoption to the Egberts.

At least I hoped they were. If they weren't...that would be fine.

I was on the couch, thinking about how I could try to be less lazy and stop making my new "family" worry. One thing I could do was clean the house or get a job. Something. Maybe I could go make a case and plead to live with my drunk ass Aunt and my cousin that reads dark shit and knits all the time. Rose was weird to talk to, but she weirdly sounded normal now.

I closed my eyes.

I really had no idea how long I was in my murky thoughts when I felt a hand on my hair.

"Woah-!" My eyes flew open, the room dim because of my shades.

It was John and he was smoothing back my hair. This motion didn't feel bad but the surprise of it made my heart race.

"How are you feeling Dave?" John asked.

"I'm fine." I sat up, "I was just wondering if I could help around more...like cleaning or getting a job."

"Oh- No Dave you really don't have to-" John's cheeks reddened as he said this.

John moved, sat across from me, "Dave. Listen."

He smoothed down his shirt that was already smooth and I sat up straighter.

"You can do that, but don't you think it's a bit too soon?" He sighed, "Yes. We have visited each other houses. But this is different. You have to get settled before you make any big changes. I just think you should relax more...like light exercise is a start? It doesn't matter to me, but we could exercise together if you want?"

"Oh…." I took a tentative step back in my mind.

He really did notice things when he wanted to. How did he know how much I do exercise anyway? It was a thing I mostly kept to myself. John looked out the windows, the light reflecting off his hair in a halo of pure sunshine. He was trying so I had to try.

"Okay..." I trailed off and looked at my hands, veiny and long.

"Dave, you said once you love to sword fight with Bro for hours." He took a large breath, "For hours. So this...is"

He didn't have to say it. The opposite of moving is staying still. And that is what I did. City walking, none. Sword fights, none. I was being my own juxtaposition.

John laughed lightly but cut himself off.

I breathed in, my eyes widening.

"Oh shit- sorry." John said.

He wrung his hands together.

I shook my head. I didn't want to burst into tears or run away like I had the first day. So, I calmed my turmoil, regained my composure. I stood calmly.

"I gotta go to bed."

It was three pm when I said this.

I went upstairs, my door closed with a click, I threw my shades on my bedside table.

The guest bedroom was still being made into my room and since all my stuff wasn't here yet from across the nation, in Texas. It was fine if it didn't get here.

I laid in my bed, the lights off, it was dark, curtains closed, duh. My brain was mush. Thoughts of suicide were dribbling in again right before sleep. I could...but really couldn't do that to the Egberts. There was already one death in my life, and I didn't need to make it hell for someone else.

"Dave?" John knocked on the door and entered, the hallway light streaming into the room.

I squinted, "What?"

"You got some mail. Not all your clothes and stuff yet but it's a letter."