Chapter 10: The Distraction

It's 2006 and it's late May. The school year is nearly done. It's always the last few weeks that stretch the longest. I like to sit at the very back of the class, I learned the hard way to never have anyone sit behind me. Of course, that doesn't stop them. The teacher is handing out our marked exams before we leave for next period. I'm not too worried on what I got. As soon as the bell rings, I'll be worried. Mr. Jefferson comes by my desk and sets the paper down. An A plus, of course.

"Great work as always, Edward. Keep it up."

I can feel their glares look behind to me. I keep my eyes to my exam. Then the bell rings… here we go. You can do this, Edward. Your locker, the bus, then to the restaurant. Then home… you don't have a home, Edward. To the orphanage, then. Soon I'll be able to afford my own apartment, then I'll never have to go to that place ever again. I try to leave as late as possible, allowing the other kids to leave before me. I make it out to the hallway, and it's as if they were waiting for me.

The exam in my hand is snatched from someone coming up behind me and I hear a dreadfully familiar voice say, "Let's see what Ed-weird got on his exam…"

I nearly whisper it, "Come on…" No point in begging.

They all surround the paper— a gaggle of varsity jackets. I just wear a button up shirt and zip up sweater.

"An A plus! Wow. The virgin out does himself again." They all laugh as he rips my paper to shreds, "What? Not like you got a mom or dad to show it to."

I do want to scream, yell, curse or battle, but I can't. Every time I want to scream, why does nothing come out? Why do I just take it?

"Leave him alone, asshole!"

A girl from my class pushes through the varsity jackets. She is top of the class, like me. She has blonde hair, blue eyes— so blue they demand your attention. Her hair is always different, she walks by me and I smell flowers. She's defending me?

"Sheesh, Jessie. We're just having fun."

"No, you're not. You're being a dick as usual, Kane. Leave Edward alone. All of you!"

They walk away, they actually walk away. I try to pick up the mess of the shredded exam on the floor, and she's down there with me. Her nails are painted pink. Her perfume is much stronger now, she's only inches from me.

"I'm sorry you gotta deal with those pricks. They think their shit don't stink."

She's confident, funny— she's pretty. She's really pretty. She's talking to me. I don't know what to say or how to act. I'm trapped in myself. She helped me pick up the last pieces and we stood up together. Then she smiles at me, and I can feel my cheeks burning.

"You okay?"

I try to murmur a reply, "Yeah. Thank you."

"Don't mention it. I'll see you around, Edward."

She walks away and I'm left with the grip in my chest. Such a small encounter left such an impression. I could have said more; should have said more. The first girl who looked at me like that. Who ever stood up for me. Who asked me if I was okay. I'm certain of it now as I stand like a dumbass in the middle of the hall. An obsession is building.

Dr. Quinzel walked up to the entrance of Cipella's, one of the most expensive and formal restaurants in Gotham. She could see men in black suits for protection stationed before the doors and inside at the lobby. She walked past the hostess as she could see Bella Reál sitting at a table ahead. Golden chandeliers sparkled to the mural ceilings. The floors were rich brown, oak wood. The tables were draped in white taffeta, set with flower arrangements in the middle. Each table had cutlery beautifully woven in napkins. All of this fed in the ambiance of blue blood as a live Italian band played gentle music to the stage. Dr. Quinzel had only removed her lab coat before coming. She was still in a coral blouse, pencil skirt, and suede high heels. She hadn't even applied deodorant since the morning. She was certain she was underdressed.

Bella Reál made her right away and waved her over with a smile. Dr. Quinzel came and sat down keenly. She held her hand out to shake, "It is so nice to see you, Ms. Reál. I was pretty surprised when I got your phone call."

"Oh, you don't need to be surprised," said the mayor, "It was only a matter of time. This clinical trial is a feat not many psychologists would dare to face. That makes this meeting an inevitability."

Dr. Quinzel nervously laughed. Bella snapped over the waiter for wine, who nodded and went to retrieve a bottle.

"Look, Harleen. I wish I could have set this up for a night of hen chatter and gracing your accomplishments, and you are a woman of accomplishment, that is no secret. You have an astounding resume, you've published some really compelling articles, you're Javier's favourite shiny thing, as far as I've heard. He's really vouched for you, and I can see why. This trial is a good deed for Gotham. To heal and provide lives for these criminals who do have the capacity to break from Arkham, lord knows it's happened in the past, I promote it. But… there is a line of ambition that is being overstepped in this trial, and I fear the outcries of Gotham are exceeding your message."

Quinzel went still and asked, "What do you mean?"

"It's no secret the media is feeding the public this trial is enabling their crimes. Is… rewarding them. Most specifically, Edward Nashton."

"The media will say anything to get hits. I've spoken to reporters and never disclosed names of my patients."

"It doesn't matter. Someone at Arkham let it slip that Edward Nashton is in your trial and the WGOT is eating it up. They basically broadcasted the entirety of Riddler's chaos. It was their cash cow for months after, it still is. Because what Nashton did is still hurting the city. Repairs of the city wall are still underway; the trauma and death count still being acknowledged. This was a full-scale terrorist attack by one guy, and I'm afraid of the unrest this could create. I need to prove my dedication to Gotham, these are my first months in the office, and I cannot look complacent."

"Ms. Reál, the entire motive of this trial was to reform the most dangerous criminals. If anything, Nashton's crime should speak on how the trial will change Gotham. He wanted change, but really, he is the one who needs to change, and when he does, the remorse he will feel for these atrocities will be his true punishment. These people don't feel remorse for what they've done, not in the slightest. Hiding them away in cells for the rest of their lives doesn't change the problem, it builds a new one."

"I know this, Harleen, I know what you're doing is beneficial. I'm saying, the people don't. They can see what is in front of them, and these… supporters… Nashton has. They've been feeding the idea online that this trial is a scheme of his to break out. I need to consider their opinion, and constantly assuring them what you and I both feel isn't cutting it. The people are outraged because of this. They want him out of the trial."

"No," Dr. Quinzel quaked, her head shaking, "He's already made so much progress, you don't understand. He's excelling in this trial, it's too early but I know he is. He's never behavioural, he never schemes, he listens to the officers. He is probably the only one in my trial who has the promise of real change because he's so brilliant! He's self-aware, he's amicable, he's opening up in therapy after months of not speaking. He only began speaking because of this trial. I insist he needs to stay. Not just for his own progress, but for my research and the confidence of Gotham. Believe me, if anyone was to break out of Arkham, it would be him. This trial distracts him from those malignant thoughts."

"Do you have anything to assure me with that he is making progress? Like is he making relationships with any of the other cellmates? Is he engaging in activities? Because according to Warden Santos, Edward spends most of his time in these sessions alone and journalling. I'm sure I don't need to remind you that when his apartment was seized for evidence, they found ledgers after ledgers, journals after journals of incomprehensible scribbling. However, most of it was just him planning his attacks. What makes you think he's not still doing that in this room?"

"Nashton is extremely socially disabled, it's… taking a bit longer for him to learn to communicate with the others. Just today, we did have a bit of a laugh with a sticky note game, and he was engaged and laughing with the others. I did document it. It was the first time I really saw him out of his shell, which shows he is making progress."

The waiter came over with the wine and the menus for the two, who ceased their discussions for the time he was there. As he left, Reál resumed, "Look, despite my own personal feelings towards Nashton, I do want him to progress so that he won't offend again. He's capable of serious evil, immense collateral. If you can show me next Friday that he's been making progress— and not just sitting in a corner scribbling notes— that he's actually branching out socially and productively— then I'll allow it. For now, I'll try to buy off the networks, see if they can broadcast something other than your trial or Nashton's escapade for a time. Distraction is key."

"Thank you, Ms. Reál," Dr. Quinzel smiled in relief, "I can promise you that he will. Give me a week's time and there won't be any reason for him to be taken from the trial."

"I hope so, Harleen. I really do."

It was the following Monday, another Therapy Room observation for Dr. Quinzel, whose eyes were fixed on Edward. Coralline was serenading on the piano playing Mozart's Turkish March. Jay was sitting on a chair joking with her as she played— enchanted by her skill with a piano. Lazlo was finger painting at the main table humming to her music. But Edward was once again recluse to his corner, scribbling in a journal.

'What is he writing?' She thought in annoyance, 'What is so compelling to hide in the corner and ignore the others?'

She chalked it up to Edward's social anxiety, but she couldn't help but fear something else was going on.

Jay spoke aloud, "You only have ten fingers?! How?"

Coralline could be heard giggling as she continued to play. Lazlo was like a pig in mud (the pun intended) slopping the paint in no artistic appeal on a large sheet of white paper. Everyone was enjoying themselves, but Edward held a pensive glare and pinched shoulders over his booklet. His hands were gripped to that pencil like his life depended on it. Maybe it did?

Edward didn't move or converse with the others the entirety of their time. When the guards came, he closed the journal and slipped it back into his bookshelf before leaving the Therapy Room. Quinzel took this moment to seize it. She walked into the Therapy Room alone, sprayed down the mess of paint on the table and wiped it, then took a look at the journal. As soon as she opened it, her fear was confirmed.

'I am enough. I am enough. I am enough….'

The page went on and on. Then another mantra, 'He was just like the rest of them. He was just like the rest of them. He was just like the rest of them…" It was written over and over with a doodle of the Batman's cowl in the middle with red eyes. She flipped through the repetitive scribbles and finally reached a journalling.

'I am stuck here still. I go to this room. I see the same faces. I see the same lies. Quinzel cannot change what cannot. She tries and tries. She flogs it with games and group therapy like it can be ignored. IT CANNOT. He is free yet I am here. He belongs here. He needs that mask ripped from his face. Skin can come, too. All of it, stripping him alive. Exposing him down to muscle and vein. He deserves it. Liar. Liar. Liar. LIAR. My days are not counted here. They will soon be among Gotham again. I will discover his secret. I will disembowel his only strength. HIS IDENTITY. Mine was made, so shall his. Let's see if he is just as pathetic without the mask as I am. Soon.'

Quinzel slammed the journal shut and pushed it back into the bookshelf without care. She hissed angrily, "For fuck sakes, Edward!"

Her thoughts were infuriating, 'How could he do this? We've made so much progress! That little fucker! Doesn't he see what kind of opportunity this is and he's in here… scheming! Rambling! Oh, I could kick his ass up and down this room. Okay… calm down… there has to be a way. Like Reál said, a distraction. He needs to be distracted.'

Another day over, last period gone. I need to get to work before I'm late. I pass all of these faces that are so happy. It's so disgustingly easy for them. They are so loud. So spirited. Would I be like them if I had a mom? Would I be like them if my application was accepted? Renewal, God… don't start with that shit, Edward. Just go. Get to the bus.

"Edward!"

Then I see her, she's running after me before the doors. Her smile is only for me, but why? I try not to seem scared but it's so difficult not to as she gets closer. Her eyes are drawing me in again. I don't say anything, I just stare. I probably look so dumb right now.

"Hey!" She stopped before me, "You doing anything tonight?"

"Uh. No. Well, yeah. I have work."

"When do you get off?"

Holy shit. She wants to hang out with me? Wait, just wait. Don't get your hopes up. "Uh. Nine."

"That's perfect! I'm throwing a party at my house tonight! You should totally come!" She handed me a flyer with the address. 'Jessie's Killer Get-Together' An unfortunate name, but she's cute for trying.

"Um. I don't know…" Parties. I've never been to a party. Wait, "… it's a Wednesday night…"

"So?" She giggled. She was laughing at me, but her smile was so pretty I didn't even care, "Come on, it'll be fun. I'll be there, and I'll stick with you. I promise. Please come? For me?"

Something tells me this wasn't the first time she used those eyes to her advantage. They definitely persuade. My stomach was twisting like I was coming down with something. I wanted to jump from my skin. I stuffed the flyer in my pocket so she wouldn't hear it rattling in my hand.

"Okay… I'll try."

"Yay!" She suddenly gripped my shoulders and pulled me down to kiss my cheek. WHAM. I nearly fell over. Am I smiling? It feels so weird. Yet so good. Could she be the thing to pull me from this torture my whole life? Is she true happiness?

"Bye, Edward. I'll see you tonight. Nine!"

"Yeah, you bet!" You're in it now, Edward.

"Come in!"

Inside Dr. Quinzel's office walked Jay with a suggestive smile. Bolton let him in and closed the door behind them. He came and plopped down to the patient's chair in excitement.

"I missed you." He sighed, "I finally get you alone."

Dr. Quinzel scoff with a smile but not wanting to entertain it for too long, "I need to ask something of you."

Jay visibly elated, "Really? I've been waiting for this day for a long time, Harleen. You know I'd do anything for you."

"I need you to do something for me."

"And what's that? Anything. Literally anything. I'll lick the seat, I don't care."

"I need you to be friends with Edward."

Jay's excitement slowly dwindled, and his head tilted before asking dejectedly, "You got me all hot and bothered for freakin' Four-Eyes? Way to ruin the mood."

"Jay. You and I both know our sessions never lead to anything productive, so I'm using this opportunity for you to actually be useful! Help me, I've been nothing but a friend to you. Least you can do is try to be friends with Edward."

"Quinzy, this is so not my scene. Edward is not my scene. The guy hums Ave Maria in the shower."

"Look, I'm going to explain this to you because I know I can trust you with this. I had a meeting with Bella Reál the other night and…"

"Wow," Jay interrupted, "Moving up in high places, Dr. Quinzel? Sexy."

"She doesn't want Edward in the program. His… past sins… are making it exceedingly difficult to convince her that he's making progress. Of course, she's right. Because he's still scheming in those journals in the Therapy Room."

"Ooo. Eddie being a bad boy."

"I'm pissed off. I need him to cooperate, and he needs a distraction to do so. If he won't open up in the Therapy Room to you guys, you need to go to him. Make it so he has to socialize. He won't have time to do anything else if you're always with him."

"He's in the cell next to me. Sure, I tried to be his friend when he first came in. He was so sad and wailing all the time, I felt bad for the poor guy. After what he did, I thought he was a matchbox full of ignition, just ready to go. I'm never usually impressed but he did impress me. Then I realized… he's boring! There's a reason that guy was invisible outside, Harleen. I have better conversations with myself, to be honest."

"Jay… I'm sure there is something you two could bond over if you just try. Give him a chance. If he doesn't give you one, keep on him like a wasp at a picnic. He will eventually have to open up and you two can be friends!"

Jay tittered to himself for a moment, shaking his head down to the floor.

"What?"

"You. You're mad because he's scheming, yet you're in here doing the exact same thing. It's so hot. Seriously, I don't know if I'm proud or turned on."

"Jay." Dr. Quinzel went stern.

"Okay, okay. I'll do my best to get Edward out of the funk," he obliged with a crooked grin, "But just know, I'm not doing it for him. I'm doing it for you."

Then another day in the Therapy room. Tuesday morning, and the four all came into a particularly different feel to their surroundings. No chairs for group therapy, but a few supplies on the main table. 2 bags and two bandanas. Dr. Quinzel greeted them all as she usually did. Happy and energetic, "Hey guys! I got an activity planned today! Another group building exercise!"

Jay asked happily, "More sticky notes?"

"No, not today, but something just as fun, I hope. I think it's about time we start focusing on the relationships we can build with each other, and that starts with a little game I call 'Follow the Voice'."

Lazlo asked in excitement, "Are we singing?!"

"No. We are giving directions and listening. Around this room are six baskets. Each of them have two ping pong balls. You guys are going to get into teams of two and collect one of these balls from each basket. Whoever gets all their balls first wins a prize! Sound fun?"

Coralline piped up, "What's the prize?"

"A surprise. Ha! However, you guys haven't heard the kicker yet," she went to the table and picked up the two striped bandanas from the table, "The one collecting the balls is going to be blindfolded. The other teammate will be giving them directions on where to walk and where to grab. Time to sharpen up our listening and communication skills."

"Oh, Jesus," Coralline scoffed quietly.

Dr. Quinzel glanced over to Edward, who was anything but excited. He was stiff and pacing his eyes at the other faces anxiously. However, she didn't feel guilty.

'Ha! Try to isolate yourself now, buddy.'

"Alright!" Dr. Quinzel clapped her hands together, "Everyone team up!"

Jay didn't hesitate to squall out, "Pyg! You're with me! We're the dream team, pal. Let's get some balls!"

Lazlo clasped his hand to his chest in delight, "Oh, Joseph. You're choosing me? I don't know what to say. The flattery… I knew you felt this way for me but wouldn't say it. I am sorry to say I am a married man."

Jay grumbled under his breath to him, "Just shut the fuck up and get your blindfold on."

Dr. Quinzel tried not to scowl at seeing Jay purposely dismiss her favour and run to Lazlo. She bit her lip and lightly shook her head up at the ceiling before saying, "Okay. Coralline and Edward. You're dream team number two. Who is who?"

Coralline asked, "You mean who gets to trip over their feet in the dark, and who gets to pop forehead veins because they aren't being listened to?"

Dr. Quinzel exhaled, already frustrated to Jay going back on his word, "Coralline… you're the victim. Put your blindfold on."

Lazlo and Jay were already duetting instructions as they commenced in the game. Lazlo walked with a more toddler-like gait now that he was blinded. Coralline reluctantly wrapped the bandana over her eyes and tied it. She waited around for some time, then spoke to the front of her even though Edward was to her back left.

"Hey, yeah, uh... Riddler. Now would be a great time to give me some guidance, huh?"

Edward was nervous. Fumbling and jittery. He stammered his words before saying, "Uh… go right, slowly. I'll tell you when to stop."

She did as he said, "Okay, stop." She did, her hands up and out. He continued, "Now… go left. 190 degrees." She nearly tripped over her feet as she turned.

"Oh! Damn."

He assured, "You're doing good. Keep going, slowly." She was walking like an astronaut; Edward was trying not to crack up at it. "Now stop. Turn and face your right."

There was a basket underneath the observation window on the floor. "There's a basket on the floor in front of you, you gotta bend down to get it."

She hushed under her breath, "Damn it," she gently leaned over and got on one knee to scoot and feel around for the basket. Her hands were slapping on the sheet vinyl flooring. She felt around and squeaked, "You're not fucking with me, right?"

"No, you're close. Go forward a little more, watch out, there's a wall."

Coralline scooted a bit too forward and bonked her head on the wall, "Ow!" Her knee rattled the basket. Edward rubbed his mouth, hiding a snicker. She pridefully raised the ping pong ball in her hand, turning her head around aimlessly, "Got it!"

She stood and handed the ball to Edward, who placed it in their bag. She tried to walk the way passed him, but he grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around. "That's backwards. Go forwards."

She giggled, "Oh, Jesus."

As she slowly walked to the next basket, his thoughts were swarming again.

'This is Atkins. The HRS screamer. The infamous one the guards are all scared of. I hear her screams, but I don't see it now. She's not scary. I figured by now she would have lashed out on me. I like her laugh. She has a cute smile."

Then his face went expressionless again, 'Don't. You know what happened last time. Don't you dare.'

It was nearing 9:30pm, I'm usually never out this late on a school night. I can already here the voices so loud as I ride my bike through the suburbs. I come up to her house. It's huge, definitely over 500k. She's had an easy life, I guess. Maybe that explains why her smile is so big? Why she smiles at all?

The music is blaring even with the doors and windows closed. I leave my bike out on the lawn and walk up to the doorstep. My heart is thrashing, my stomach twisting. I want to turn back. But I told her I'd come, I don't want to disappoint her.

As I open the door, the noise is so much I can barely breathe. There are so many people cluttered before me like it's the last stand of human civilization. The music could blow my ear drums. My mouth is already dry as I walk in. All of their eyes meeting me like I was an alien. I feel like an alien in here. Like I'm on their ship about to be experimented on grotesquely.

"Holy shit is that Nashton?! The fuck you doing here, man?" One of the voices said. Good question, at this point, I don't even know.

"Edward! You came!" Then I could see her running through the faces, her smile so bright to see me. I was seeing in tunnel vision before I saw her. I could breathe a bit better now. She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the kitchen. More faces, more dreadfully familiar faces. The varsity jackets are back. However, they weren't ready to peck like scavengers. They were smiling… at me?

"Nashton! You the man!" I am? What the fuck is happening?

She said it so happily over the obnoxious music, "He came for me! He's so sweet!" She hugged my side, and I froze. I looked down to her and waggled a nervous smile.

"Here, Nashton," one of the guys handed me a small glass, "Take a shot."

I could smell the liquor already, "No. no thanks."

"Come on, don't be a square, dude. Shots!"

I looked down to her, she was already swigging it down. You've been through worse, Edward. Do it for her. If there was an accurate alternative to what gasoline would taste like, it was that. I choked it down and nearly threw it back up. My eyes stung, my chest burned. I was in fits of coughs.

One of them yelled over me, "You always remember your first time, Edward!"

I wiped my mouth and took off my glasses to wipe my eyes, then before I could put them back on, she snatched my arm again, "Come on, let's get away for a bit. I'll be back!"

"Don't cash in his V card too quick, Jessie!"

V card? What? What does that mean? I put my glasses back on and struggle to stay with her up the stairs. Where is she taking me? It's quieter up here, that's good. But I'm starting to get this feeling in my gut. Something's not right.

We make it inside a room. A bedroom. The lights are off and all I can hear clearly is my own heartbeat. She turns to me and smiles again. Then she leans in towards me. I lean away. I'm already curdling in my skin, I'm not ready for this. Without saying a word, she gets on her knees and rips my pants down. I was so startled by it I didn't react right away. I almost tripped backwards, and my voice squeaked, "No! No, wait! What are you doing?!"

"What do you think?"

No. No! I'm not ready for this. I thought she was better than this. I thought she was someone to know. Not… not this. She tried to pull down my boxers and that's when I snapped.

"No! I'm not ready for this! Stop!"

She looked to the door in a disappointed sigh. Then looked back at me. She smiled. Why is she smiling again? Why is this smile different? My heart was beating so fast I was scared it would quit.

"Say cheese, dickhead."

I gasped, "What?"

Suddenly the doors burst open. Voices howling and laughing. The light hitting me was my queue to scramble for my pants and pull them up. It was too late, constant flashes of cameras had already gotten what they wanted.

"The fuck is this, Nashton? You thought Jessie was gonna suck that 4 incher?"

I pulled them up and made one last horrified glance to her. She was laughing. She was laughing! No! These assholes! All of them. She was just like the rest of them!

I ran out of that room, pushing and pulling people out of my way. The tears were coming but I needed to wait till I was outside. If I cry, they'll know! The laughs followed me till I reached the doorstep and struggled for my bike handles. I was shaking so much I could barely pedal. The bike tilted against my unsteadiness, and I fell on my side hard.

"Fuck!"

They came outside, too. Laughing still as I was on the ground. I pedalled as fast as I could. As far as I could. Tears dipped down my cheeks. I could barely breathe. You are incapable of finding someone, Edward. You are a fuckup! Never again! Fuck everyone! I'm destined to be alone forever, because when I do open up, I get kicked down and reminded of that. Every. Damn. Time. They all deserve to feel this way! Soon enough, they will all suffer as I do! Soon!

"Keep going… there's a shelf." Edward said to Coralline who was still scooting her feet against the floor, "Stop. Feel around. It's on the second shelf to the top."

"Okay," she felt along the ledges and pulled the basket forward, "Hell yeah!" She was short so she had to use her tiptoes to pull it down and grab the ball. It was their third one, and Dr. Quinzel announced over them.

"Guys! If you got your third ball, swap the blindfold with your partner! Let's mix it up."

"Oh, thank fuck." Coralline ripped the blindfold off promptly and handed the ball to Edward (who was now in the midst of digesting he'd have to be blinded and led verbally by Atkins). He set it in their bag and she was holding the blindfold up to him.

"Your turn."

He sighed, "Okay," he took the blindfold hesitantly.

Quinzel came up to them and said, "Edward, I'll carry your glasses."

"Why does he need the blindfold, he's probably blind without those things anyway," teased Coralline.

"I am," Edward agreed with a smile as he handed the glasses to Quinzel.

He folded up the bandana as Quinzel went to go observe Jay and Lazlo (who were battling over getting passed the main table). Before he could wrap them over his eyes, Coralline gasped.

"So that's what you look like without those things on!"

Edward looked up at her, he only saw a distorted blob, but he could hear her voice, "What?"

"Your eyes are green."

"Yeah… and?"

"And penis sprinkles. Sheesh. Just making conversation."

Edward smiled as he put the blindfold over his eyes, "Sorry. I would make conversation about your eyes, but I'm blind."

'Don't hit on her. What are you doing?'

Coralline squished her lips together at the comment. She began to instruct, "Okay, so you're going to walk straight. I'll tell you to stop." Edward began walking and Coralline blurted, "Stop!"

He halted. She said, "Now turn… right. Like all the way. There's a basket on the fish tank."

Edward followed the sound of the water and gently bobbed against the tank.

"Don't scare the fish," she scolded.

Edward giggled, "Anything but that." He felt for the basket on top and grabbed the ball. He held it up and felt Coralline take it from his clasp. She put it in the bag.

"Okay, now follow my voice," she walked backwards before Edward, his hands out and a nervous smile on his face. He slowly stepped forward. She had her hands out swaying like she was leading a truck into a garage, "Come, come, come, yeah come, hurry up… Stop!"

Suddenly Jay said in a bragging, singsong voice, "Oh, Atkiiiins! We only have one left!"

She snapped back, "Eat my ass!"

"Coralline!" Quinzel squawked.

She defended, "That was playful!" She said to Edward, now more rushed, "Okay, it's on top of the piano." She went over to the piano and started to play the beginning of Für Elise to lead him. "Follow the pretty music," she tittered playfully. Edward gave a chuckle. He came up to the piano and felt over the ivory wood and met the basket. She looked into it and saw two balls. She hushed, "Take them both."

"What?"

"They're gonna win, take them both. Fuck them."

Edward made a high pitch laugh, "Are you serious? No."

"Dude."

Dr. Quinzel's voice snapped, "I can hear you, Coralline!" Coralline stomped her foot and groaned. Edward slowly backed away from the piano with his hands raised, still a nervous but half amused grin. Dr. Quinzel added, "Edward, don't listen to her. She's a bad influence."

"We're all bad influences, why do you think we're here?" She snipped back. Edward handed the ball to Coralline; she took it gently.

"One left, we can do this. You with me? You with me?!"

"I'm with you," he replied lowly.

"Good," she enthused, "Now keep going straight-ish…"

"Straight-ish?"

"I'll tell you when." The last basket was in Coralline's corner, on her rug right under the princess canopy, "Stop. It's in my corner, under the fairy lights. You're gonna bend down, feel a soft rug. You keep going a bit, you'll feel the basket. Don't worry you're surrounded by stuffed animals; you won't hit a wall like I did."

Lazlo and Jay's voices were getting closer to them, closer to the piano, their last basket. Edward got down on his knees and could feel the softness of the rug. He pushed the chiffon material of the canopy aside and knocked over a few stuffed animals before hitting the basket.

"We did it!"

Jay's victorious cry was hailed by Lazlo who sung aloud, "Victoryyy!"

Coralline snipped, "Oh, fuck off!"

Dr. Quinzel clapped and celebrated, "Yay! Well, done, Jay and Lazlo. Now time for Edward and Cori, come on, you guys!"

Edward grabbed the ping pong ball just seconds late of Jay and Lazlo and picked up from the ground. He gave it to Coralline who dejectedly put it in her bag. Dr. Quinzel came over with his glasses as he removed the blindfold. "Good job, guys! I loved the teamwork you have shown today, Edward!" She walked over to the main table calling everyone over with their bags of ping pong balls.

Edward put his glasses on and shrugged to Coralline, "I'm sorry."

Coralline looked disappointed, but when she glanced up at Edward, she wasn't too bothered by it, "Don't be, you did great." She was never the kind to beat down underdogs, especially shy ones.

He smiled down to her and observed softly, his voice cracking, "I can see your eyes now." They we're so brown they were almost black.

Coralline folded her hands together and swayed, beaming a grin, "You like them?"

"Okay, guys! To the table!" Dr. Quinzel called again. They both detached from each other quickly and regrouped at the table with the others.

Jay didn't waste anytime, "Alright, Quinzy. What's the prize? Pyg and I earned it."

Dr. Quinzel smiled, "This," she set a basket to the middle of the table, "Everyone look at the ping-pong balls, what do you see written on them?"

Edward shuffled through the bag and pulled out the first he felt, he read it a bit confused, "Empathy?"

"Yup, throw it in the basket."

Jay read his, "Trust." He threw his in, as well.

Quinzel clapped her hands, "Next, next!"

"Respect."

"Compromise."

"Laughter!" Jay smiled, "I like that one."

Edward read the last one, "Communication."

Dr. Quinzel explained, "Those are the six main components of a strong, healthy relationship. Today I saw some real communication with you guys. All of you worked together as a team, even if it was scary for some of you," she made a side eye to Edward, "But you gritted your teeth and did it. I saw some of you even had fun! Edward, was Coralline a good partner, you'd say?"

Edward took a minute to calculate a response, he was already jangled in nerves, "Yeah," he cleared his throat, "Yeah… she was awesome."

'Awesome was too much. I could have said good or great. Not awesome. She's probably glaring me down.'

Edward dared a glance to Coralline, who to his surprise, was smiling giddily. He returned it as he pulled his fingers under the table. 'She's smiling at me. She's so pretty. No, stop. Enough. You're lying to yourself, Edward. Never again.'

Lazlo said with zest, "Joseph was magnificent. He guided me vigilantly through the mudded waters."

Jay replied, "That I did. When you weren't running into the table or tripping against bookshelves. We did good. We finished first, that's all that matters. Now what's the prize?"

Quinzel sighed, "Learning… ways to communicate?"

Coralline guffawed, "Ha! There isn't one!"

Jay dropped his head to his arms on the table, Quinzel consoled, "Okay, I didn't bring a prize. I'm sorry. I can… I can bring coffee and donuts for our meeting tomorrow, how about that?"

"Yes!" Coralline nearly jumped from her seat, startling Edward who was seated next to her, "That's it! You're doing that!"

"I must say, can you perchance bring gluten-free donuts for my delight. Anything else upsets my tum," Lazlo was viciously talked down by Jay and Coralline.

"Oh, shut up!"

"Gluten-free my asshole."

Lazlo shamed, "I will silence myself. I strike that comment."

Quinzel continued, "For the next few days, we will be focusing on all the components we talked about. Empathy, trust, respect, compromise and laughter, as teams! We covered communication today, and I must say, you all did exceedingly well. I'll leave you guys to the rest of your therapy time. Remember the bonds you made today! Don't waste your hour alone in here, guys. Doing something is much more fun when you do it with a friend."

Dr. Quinzel left the four with all her supplies and into the observation room. Jay slapped Lazlo's back who jolted, "Come on! Play a game of foosball with me, Pyg!"

"You sure love including me in activities with balls, Joseph."

Coralline pranced to the piano. She started playing a few notes and began to play Moonlight Sonata. Edward was left on his own again, in his thoughts again. He made his way back to the journal. However, as he clasped it, he hesitated.

'Not today. My thoughts aren't burning today. Why aren't they burning today?'

He stood at the bookshelf for a time before reaching for a book of Game of Wits. He sat down at the main table with it. He opened it halfway.

Dr. Quinzel sat in observation pondering, 'Well, at least he's not scribbling in his journal by himself.' But he was still alone. Isolating himself from everyone else.

The world behind Edward nearly faded, and the piano's music ceased. His attention was solely on the puzzles, the riddles, the mind games. Then the bench he was on jolted beside him, a body warmed his right side. He looked up from his book and startled to Coralline. She warmed a shy smile.

"Hi," she cooed.

Edward's breath strayed for a while. He was staring for far too long. Breath suddenly came, and he breathed out a smile, "Hi."

"What you doing?"

He looked down to his book, a bit embarrassed, "Puzzles… I like puzzles."

'She doesn't care, Edward.'

She bit her lip and grinned, "I like puzzles, too."

'Wait…'

She scooted the book a little to herself, so it was in the middle of the two. His eyes were fixed on her as she began reading the book herself. His thoughts were festering again. Not hopelessness. Not fear. No haunting memories. Hope?

'I really… really like her.'

He stole his glance from her as they read the book together, gently speaking on their puzzles and how to solve them. Their shoulders softly bumping against each other ever so often was a strike of lightning. The moments felt like minutes. Every smile she'd shine up at him slowed time. His lenses catching light and reflecting back at her was another flutter in her tummy. They both were certain for that time, but without even saying it or showing it. An obsession was building.