CHAPTER TWO: CHECK-MATE

We are addicted to our thoughts. We cannot change anything if we cannot change our thinking.
-Santosh Kalwar

I keep getting called by my old habits like addiction has a cell phone and it's trying to flirt with me. If I feel bad I'm trained to go to one thing: Drugs. People never seem like they understand, you have to explain everything then they have to work to comfort you, most times it doesn't work and even if it does work and you feel better you'll still remember.

Drugs...well, drugs didn't ask questions. They didn't talk. They make forgetting easy.

That's why addiction works so well, because both your body and mind crave what you're addicted to. Bodies can be easy to ignore, like the pain from a broken finger, and if ignoring it isn't an option you can always wait it out like the screaming you hear come from a cut off limb.

It's our broken minds you can't ignore.

That's why every forty seconds, somebody takes their own life. Why, four times, I was a part of that statistic.

Why each time I decided to end it, I wasn't drunk or high. I was sober every single time I decided to do it, any maybe I wasn't sober when I actually tempted each time -that was more for bravery than to forget or get lost.

Sometimes addictions aren't to get lost, to forget, to make someone feel better -they can pop up out of the blue. A girl can take one too many shots at a party, a guy take try their first line of coke for the first time, someone can smoke a joint before they try a cigarette or pop their first pill and the end result will be the same.

Addiction.

At least just then it's the fight against their body, and their choice to get a broken mind.

In that matter, I had no choice.

Neither, does it appear, did Micah.

Though he didn't throw the new mango smoothie I made for him on me, dump it on the floor or throw it away, he's not drinking it either.

His dark eyes just glare down at the table Kace is sitting on, me on the end chair while we play chess. Micah is sitting to my right, pushed off two feet away -he hasn't said a single word.

Everyone else is eating dinner right now, Kace and Micah decided not to eat dinner but rather snacks later on in the night. As for me, I never eat dinner so this night is right on track, and besides for the newbie here at Grey Estate everything is normal.

Which also means that Kace is kicking my ass once again in our chess game.

"Hmph! Aw, Kace." I whine, bouncing up to sit straight in my seat due to his knocking my queen right off the board and onto the wooden surface. After kicking off my bunnies slippers I curled up on the chair, easily fitting on the large furniture. "Go easy on me."

"I am." Kace bluntly says, then sighs as he sees my pout. "AJ don't do that puppy dog shit with me, it just makes you look like a upset kindergartner and I can't help that you really suck at chess."

"That should be an insult to yourself sir," Replying back I bop his nose before he can swat my hand away. "Seeing as you're the one who taught me how to play chess."

"You're the one who tried to keep playing chess like checkers for the first month. Purely to rile me up." The grumpy grumble in Kace's voice makes me giggle. I pick up a pawn and randomly move it, making Kace sigh and shake his head. "Can't do that. One space up, that's it."

"Fine, but only because you corrected me oh so nicely." My words make him grin, as I move the pawn back to where it came from but pick up a rook and level it on the head of his bishop. He always plays as the black pieces that are squared off and harsh looking, where as my white ones are smooth and delicate. "Better?"

Kace just stares at me like I'm stupid.

He knows that means I'm taking the piece, that it was my move. He usually just sighs and hands me his now useless piece while setting mine down. Kace rarely gives me this look, though I get it often.

Taken aback I instantly go sheepish, biting my lip as I look away from him only to look back into his eyes with a slight wince.

"Is that move illegal, like a stripper's dance at a children's birthday party?"

This makes Micah groan, and throw his head back to glare at the ceiling while his lips move in silent words. I guess I'm really getting on his nerves today.

Yay!

It's like punching someone in the arm after they got hurt, they yell at you for doing it long enough to forget the pain. If I keep annoying Micah, he'll yell at me long enough to get distracted from the pain of his addiction.

Now he won't forget about it, nothing can make that happen, but it will help in a way.

I'm a trained therapist, and when I got here I also enrolled in online college courses to get my degree. And, I got it. Since I'm assigned to him, I'm going to actually have to council the green eyed boy.

It's not going to be fun.

Nobody annoyed me, besides myself anyway, until Jax came along and changed that. He annoys me a lot -it's amazing.

Jax, however, is the expert at giving me the you're-stupid look. He could write a book on it. Not that the book would sell any, but he's still be able to write it.

It always makes me pout, or try to get out of it.

This look always, always makes me feel so stupid.

"AJ." Kace rolls his eyes, as if exasperated. "Say it."

"Uh...it?" I mumble, confused. I'm not trying to be a smart-ass, I'm genuinely confused.

Though the lovely nerd of a boy across from me doesn't get that, as he pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Check mate, say check mate." Kace finally instructs me, making my confused pout grow.

"But isn't that what you say when you win? And um, I'm not smart enough to win against you. You're in check? My dumb level isn't high enough to make me miss that."

"Then how the fuck are you missing the fact that you just won?"

I jump at his voice, my eyes instantly snapping down to the chess board as I examine the pieces.

Holy bologna Batman!

I won.

"Heck yeah!" I squeal, standing up on top of the chair excitedly. "Thank you for playing Kace, you're a sweetie! I-" That dumb feeling hits my gut again, and my smile dies out a little but I make sure it doesn't dwindle down much.

"Are you sure you didn't let me win?"

"Seeing as I fucking hate losing? No I didn't let you win, you just somehow suck so bad at this game that it turned around, smacked you in the ass and made you good." True to his words, Kace is quite grumpy after losing but I can't be so sure this isn't just him normally.

After hearing what Micah did to the last wondrous smoothie I made him, he did get quite mad. Understanding how hard it is the first week here is the only reason he didn't start a fight.

"Thank you for the vulgarity darling, it always brightens my day. I actually won." Just saying that feels...odd. But a good kind of odd. "That's new."

"Don't get used to it. Now I'm actually going to start plotting my game play against you."

"You're a egg head Kace!" One of the boys shouts from the hallways, having heard what was happening when he walked by.

Giggling at this, I smile widely up at Kace. "For an egg head it's weird you don't know that chess is a sport, not a board game."

"I'm aware all those butt chinned morons out there think that, and put that into google for who knows what reason, but I refuse to acknowledge that it has any legitimate weight to it." He pauses, eyes snapping up to mine as a slow smirk crosses his features. "And I know you just said that to see how I would react. Did I pass?"

"You did amazing babe." I shrug nonchalantly, sitting back down. "Unlike if I said Pluto wasn't a planet."

"Pluto is a fucking planet." Kace snarls, proving my point.

"Hey I'm with you," My smile never leaves. "Pluto may be small, but it's a keeper for sure. Worth a lot, ya' know?"

"Unlike you." Micah grunts, those dark eyes still on the ceiling.

Ignoring the fact that the green eyed boy just called me completely worthless, I grin at him. "You decided to talk, now that we know your mouth works why don't you drink the smoothie?" It seems like this isn't the right approach, because almost instantly after I say it his face goes emotionless and he goes right back to staring at the ceiling, silent.

Then I notice Kace's features narrowed into a thin lipped glare, one directly solely at Micah for saying that.

"You look constipated, need to take a-"

"Don't finish that." Kace snaps, rolling his eyes. "I'm gonna go smoke, and then I'll go on a run. Don't wait up on me, AJ, but I'll be back before I'm supposed to be in bed."

"Alright, I'll be here, chillin' and being cool as a pickle. Don't forget to wear real shoes, sweetness!" I call after the quickly retreating boy, smiling to myself as he waves me off.

It's hard getting Kace in anything other than him normal clothing and slip on shoes, let alone running wear. When he runs with me, however, and I'm allowed to take him off of Grey Estate for two hours, he does wear real shorts and shoes.

Kace puts in effort where it counts, something I have always admired about him.

Focusing back into Micah I notice how he still hasn't attempted to drink the mango smoothie and sigh, "You know that is really quite healthy for you, more mentally than for your body believe it or not. Can't you consume it already?"

"Can't you start talking like a normal fucking person? You're such a freak about everything. Your speech, fucking mangoes, those stupid skirts. If you were normal, you'd be treated normal too." Micah snarls, dark eyes snapping to me in a harsh glare, fists clenching against his chair.

What's wrong with my skirts?

"Normal is overrated you know." My reply, once again, is obviously not what Micah expected. "It doesn't matter to me if you call me a freak, or think I'm one. What matters to me is if you drink that smoothie right there, and maybe not hit me with it!"

Right at the end my voice goes all squeaky and my actions become flinchy, all due his hand lashing out and grabbing onto the cup of mango smoothie.

All this time, and I'm still used to being treated like shit.

Don't worry, changing that is already on my to-do list.

"Stop fucking acting like I'm going to hit you, I don't hit women." Micah snaps, his movement stopped the second I reacted to him but his anger remained the same. "Seriously," He presses on like people don't usually believe him. "I don't."

"It's good you have healthy boundaries like that." I chirp, not about to add on how he really shouldn't be hitting anyone. "How annoying I get about you drinking that is purely based on how long you refuse to do it. This is me at a two, you don't want to see me at ten."

"Let me guess, you shove two more batteries up your ass and then start flying around me like a bug."

"Sarcasm, nice." I smile widely, not breaking eye contact. "Drink it?"

"Fuck off?"

"Ah, both answers are a no then." My peppiness is clearly grating on his nerves, but Micah has still yet to snap. I have a feeling spilling the first smoothie over me was nothing to what he can do. He's not a Red for no reason. "Can I ask you a personal question."

"No." Micah bluntly replies, making my smile only grow as I turn to face him completely.

"I know your mother dropped you off here, so what is your relationship with your parents like. Are they abusive, is your father? Or did you just fall down a rabbit hole one day, and didn't know how to get out of the crack without snorting it." Bold statement asked of someone still hooked on their addiction, but he needs to get used to that here.

Besides, you can turn into a human but you'll always be able to turn back into an addiction. People are liable, expendable, just like addictive substances.

Addicts are just that, people with addictions and they will be those people for the rest of their lives and it's only a problem when they give themselves what they're addicted to. You can be an alcoholic if you snuff down twenty beers in a day and you can be an alcoholic if you haven't touched the stuff for twenty years, it doesn't matter. By the time you get that addiction your brain has already changed, it doesn't matter how much time has gone by, your brain will remember. The second time you get addicted, it's even harder to bounce back.

I'm going to try my harder to make sure Micah doesn't become an addiction again, after I make sure he becomes human first, of course

To do that I need to fully understand everything about Micah, everything about what caused his addiction to happen in the first place.

"You want to know so bad?" Still glaring those dark eyes of his, one eyebrow raises up at me. "I'll trade you."

"What makes you think I wouldn't tell you anything anyway?" I ask, giggling slightly. "I'm an open book."

An open book with invisible ink, I nearly snort at the thought.

"Sure, as if that's true." Micah says, scoffing slightly as he continues to stare me down. "You're a liar, freak, but a good one at that."

"Are you going to keep calling me that?" I ask, instead of addressing the liar comment. "I should know whether to respond to it or not."

"You act unaffected by my words."

"That's because I'm not." I state, almost sounding proud. And I am proud, it took a while to get used to such harsh things being directed at me and even longer than that to realize it wasn't personal. "And-"

"I'm not finished." Micah interrupts, leaning forward to intimidate me as his lips drawl out from that thin line of his into a cruel smirk. "You act unaffected, yet you flinch at my hands. You've been damaged, and even your stupid fucking mangoes can't fix that."

"You got me there." I admit, leaning into him, making him back away. Who's intimidated now? "But mangoes can help in many ways, just not with muscle memory. Which if you have problems with that, we do have doctors here, but for now that smoothie should be enough. You suggested a game, right?"

He stays silent, but I continue.

"So let's play. One question means one answer, and we each get the same amount. It should be a challenge, to see who quits first. And darling," At this point I think it's clear I'm taunting him. "I think I know the winner."

Would this be an appropriate time to say check mate?

Probably not. But it's so, so tempting.

"Fine." Micah begins, lips dropping back down to a snarl as his dark green eyes flick up to the ceiling -avoiding my eyes. "Let's get this over with. Mom only cares about herself, dad's a drunk who hits things when he's mad and older brother is the family's prize possession. Neglected, not abused."

"Neglect is abuse." I mutter almost absentminded, then shake it off and smile once again. "Your question?"

"Back to you, I guess." Micah drags one large hand down his face, and I notice one again the bags under his eyes.

"Are you tired?" I ask him, prepared to lead him back to his room to sleep when he growls out a curse under his breath and lifts a hand up to stop me.

"Not tired, I just don't give a fuck about your answer and already fucking regret taking that shit bait you put out," He almost seems mad at himself. "Fell right in your damn mango filled trap."

"That sounds like a trap better than any!" I say, biting my lip as I look from the now abandoned chess pieces and back to Micah. "My parents are a lot like yours, I would imagine. Mom can remember the day of every single major deal she made but she can't remember my birthday-" Even if it is my middle name, but I guess she forgot that too. "-and my dad is the same as her, both a workaholic. He doesn't hit things, but he does throw them. Not abusive though, they're good people and doing  the best they know how. They...they care about me in their o-"

"Listen, I meant what I said. I really don't care about you or your life, I want out of this place and I want to never hear your annoying ass voice say the word mango again, or see your stupid fucking skirts." Seriously, what is wrong with my skirts! "So just stop talking, and show me back to my room."

Nodding I reach down and pull on my bunny slippers once again, standing with a slight bounce. "I'll check on you in the morning, and then come to stay with you at around three until you go to bed again. If you need me through out the night, have a security member page me and I'll be down in minutes. If you have a nightmare, let me know when you wake up or when I see you next and if you start to get withdrawals let me know. We have things here that can make you more...comfortable with the process of transitioning into sobriety." Pausing I turn towards him, not touching him but making sure he meets my eye. "If you feel the urge to self harm, or do self harm, tell me or I'll find out. I'll check you every day, and that includes if you cut anywhere that's not your wrists."

Micah entire being seems to seethe anger at this comment, but he simply says "My room?" instead of snapping at me.

I locate it quickly, and make sure he's okay to sleep for the night before telling the office that he's in bed and I'm going home.

The entire way back, I couldn't help but to think more about my parents.

Nothing was worse in my life than the time I had tried to kill myself- -and went missing for 2 weeks when I failed- -and not a single person beside the guy who was my dealer at the time noticed -and why he noticed? Because last time he gave me three lines it was because I traded sex for drugs which, ironically, was one of the reasons I wanted to commit. I guess it's also ironic that I tried to kill myself by overdosing.

Last time I tried that -or rather, tried it in that way.

My parents found out because my ex best friend told them, knowing they'd be mad and punish me. They did.

What people don't know is that behavior can also be addictive.

Humans get used to one thing, and sometimes people even get so used to the behavior they live with they can get addicted to abuse.

That's how people can fall in love with their kidnappers, or marry a man who's hitting them. It's an addiction too, just not in the way it's usually seen.

My parents, they're addicted to work.

They are the biggest reason I've tried to take my own life, and they know that too.

But hey, work is important too, right?

Neglect is abuse.