I was relieved to hear that at least someone had cared about him.

“When I was in the hospital, the legion of psychiatrists diagnosed me with bi-polar disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder. They prescribed me lithium for the bi-polar. It's supposed to help with the...swings. But therapy is supposed to be the only thing that helps with my other problems.” Clay sneered, obviously unconvinced this is what he needed. I ignored that minefield and opted to focus on the other part of his statement.

“The swings?” I had no idea what he was talking about. Bi-polar disorder? Borderline Personality Disorder? “Yeah, my manic swings. I go through major extremes in my mood. You know, happy one minute, depressed and suicidal the next. I suffer from rapid cycling. My mood swings are severe and hard to control and come on really close together. But a lot of that also has to do with the Borderline issue. The chemical imbalance in my brain is one thing, but the crazy behavior extremes are something else entirely. Which is why I turned to drugs, according to my shrink. I wanted some sort of control over what I was feeling all the time. That's also why I cut. It's so strange to know the textbook explanation of why I'm doing things while having no control over doing them.”

I put the bottle of pills on his dresser and crossed my arms over my chest. This was a lot to absorb. I was in information overload. If I wanted to run the other way last night, that was nothing compared to the need to get the hell out of there that I was feeling now.

But what kind of friend would that make me if I bailed when he was finally sharing so much with me, even though it was scary and dark? If this were Rachel or Daniel, would I turn my back on them? I immediately knew that I wouldn't. And as I looked at Clay, my heart filled with love for him. Because despite all that he had just told me, it didn't change my feelings for him. Not one bit. I would stay, I would be there and I wouldn't run like a coward.

“Does the lithium help?” I asked him, coming to sit beside him on the bed. Letting him know with my body language that I wasn't going to leave just because he unloaded some heavy shit in my lap. Besides, I had asked him for it. “It does, I suppose, but I hate taking it. I feel like a f**king zombie on that stuff. Like I can't feel anything. I'm just numb. I guess I'd rather be crazy than not feel anything at all.” He said. His answer scared me. So was he not taking his meds? Is that what caused his psycho turn last night?

“But it's dangerous not to take your medication, right? I mean, is that why...you know...last night happened?” I didn't know how to word what I wanted to say. I was swimming in very deep waters here.

“I know that, Mags. I know I need to take them. But I just wanted to feel normal for once. To be a normal teenager. To have fun. Hang out with people who didn't know anything about me or only wanted to use me for what I could give them. I wanted to feel what it was like to kiss you for the first time without being sucked into a medicated fog.”

Oh. “But you need them. Last night was bad. I can't stand seeing you do that to yourself.” I said quietly. I turned my body on the bed until I was facing him. He looked at me and rested his forehead against mine. “And I want to kiss you too, more than anything. But not when you're like this.” I watched Clay's shoulders sag with the rightness of what I was saying.

Because as much as I wanted to take that step forward in our relationship, he needed me as a friend more. As much as that freaking sucked. Clay cupped my cheek in his hand. “I am so tired of being this way. I just want it to stop. I want to be a guy you aren't afraid to be around.”

I leaned my face into his hand and kissed his palm. “Then take your meds, Clay. I won't watch you destroy yourself over some ridiculous idea that those pills make you less than who you are. You need them. And I need you...as my friend.”

That was really hard to say. Because it was such a lie. But he didn't need his life complicated by a new relationship. He needed my support without the added issue of the girlfriend/boyfriend thing. And I needed to wrap myself around all that he had just revealed, and what it potentially meant for any future between us.

Clay's mouth rose on one side in a half smile. “As a friend, huh?” He asked, his eyes questioning me. I nodded, pulling away a bit. “Yes, as a friend. Because you've become one of my best friends, Clay.” It really blew being selfless.

“Okay then.” Clay got up and picked up the bottle. Shaking out two pills he put them in his mouth and swallowed them without water. “There. Problem solved.” He said nonchalantly, opening his mouth to show me he had indeed taken the pills.

I smiled halfheartedly. I seriously doubted a few tiny pills could solve all of his problems. But it was a start.

Chapter Nine

The weeks that passed after Melissa James's party on the whole were pretty uneventful. My friends and I fell into a routine of school and hanging out. Daniel was off again with Kylie, so he was around a lot more than he had been, much to Rachel's delight. I was also happy to see that the two of them seemed to have called a cease fire. Since Rachel's drunken verbal vomit and my advice for caution and sensitivity, Daniel had been doing just that. He was thoughtful and polite. In other words, nothing like himself.

I noticed the change in Clay almost instantly. The Monday after his Oscar- worthy freak out he was subdued and expressionless. He interacted some, but he had a perpetual stoned demeanor that was really hard to get used to.

I felt guilty for thinking that I too liked happy Clay off meds. But then I just had to remember him crumpled on his bedroom floor, sobbing uncontrollably and I put those thoughts firmly away.