He paid for the tablets and asked for a packet of menthols at the counter but Geraldt's eyes never left me. It wasn't that easy to dismiss his suspicion, right? He grabbed my hands, stopping me from picking at my nails. I didn't even realize I was doing it until I saw the small red line from ripping the wick from the nail. He looked at me, more concerned than I'd ever seen him be.

"You want some lunch?"

"I'm fine, thank you," I said quietly. He didn't believe me, but took the bag from the counter and pulled me aside. He sat me down on a bench outside the pharmacy, slumping down next to me.

"I know about last night," he confessed. The air became charged. I wanted to run before hearing whatever speech he had prepared.

"I ain't gonna pretend I know what you do it for. You might have body pain for all I know, but if it is what I think it is - then I'm here for you. It can be hard to stop, my mammy was hooked on Morphine so I do know."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said quietly, trying to control my shaking. He didn't respond, but I was actually very comforted by the idea that he did know, and cared enough to talk to me about it. It was something you tried to keep under wraps, to hide. That only made it worse. When you felt lonely, and the pain got too much, you'd take another tablet. Then you'd feel guilty when you came down from the high and it would just repeat over and over again.

"Marnie's got really good pancakes," he said suddenly, breaking the stiffness. I nodded. I got off the bench and helped me up as we shuffled back to the coffee shop. I tried not to notice the renewed grip he had on the pharmacy back. Can't really trust an anchor to not sink, can you?

We got in and Tris came forward with a menu, she saw us and beckoned us over. We were seated at a little corner booth, and she laid down the menu before quickly rushing to another table.

"They got pancakes galore, but you figure like a honey type," he said quietly, rushing over the menu with his finger. I couldn't deny his statement so I just nodded. Sighing, he shifted in the booth until he was at my side. I felt his hand on my thigh, squeezing me gently.

"Look, Aaron, I don't know what you're going through. I don't know what we are either, but I'm here for you, just like a friend should be."

"I don't want to bring you down," I sniffled. He raised his hands quickly, wiping at my eyes.

"You ain't gonna bring me down. We're in boarding school, we can't go any lower. The worst you can do at this point is not let us help," he said, trying to comfort me. Eventually, he pulled my chin so I was facing him, and rested his forehead against mine.

"I'm here for you, regardless," he said quietly. His breath brushed against my lips, his eyes half-lidded as they looked down at me. I leaned into it, into him and he took pride in that moment. I could feel his chest puff up with pride when I pressed my head against his shoulder. He reached up, massaging the side of my head slowly until Tris came back, a smile across her face.