Head Case

by Kendra Moreno

  I slide my hands down my face slowly, contemplating the lie I’m about to tell. It really won’t make anything better for him to know the truth right now. “Personal opinion. I think you’re fucking crazy, you know that,” I chuckle.

  “Me, too,” Mitzy grumbles.

  Crane cracks a genuine grin and slides his chair a smidge closer to mine.

  “Hi there, FG,” I whisper, meeting his eyes.

  “Hey yourself, Princess.” He grabs a completely unbruised apple from his tray, and I smirk, glancing over my shoulder toward the food line. Gina is staring at our table, and she quickly wiggles her fingers at me in a little wave before she goes back to doling out slop to the masses.

  Mitzy plays with her food on my other side, and I elbow her. “He’s not a spy.”

  “Sure,” she sniffs, pushing her tray away. Before I can speak again, she backs away from the table and marches across the cafeteria toward the common room.

  “Trouble in paradise?” Crane asks. His voice sounds like he’s mocking me, but his face shows true concern.

  “She’s mad I was on lockdown.”

  Crane nods, brushing a finger lightly against the outside of my thigh under the table. I sigh, looking at my cheesecake. Fuck it, I’m going to enjoy the good things about this morning. With a determined smile on my face, I dig into my dessert and bump Crane with my shoulder.

  “I’ll fix it. She never stays mad at me for long.” She did this when I first started seeing Derrick, too. Mitzy is scared I’m going to forget about her, that’s what it boils down to. I’ve been spending time with Crane, and then we got in trouble, and she doesn’t feel stable. Instability isn’t good for someone with all the problems she has. I have to be a better friend, but that doesn’t mean I have to give up my guy. Not even close.

  “Well, before you fix it, do you want to go for a walk?” Crane inclines his head toward the gardens, and I nod quickly.

  “Yes, that sounds nice. Some fresh air after being locked up is always fun.”

  “They’re going to be watching us like a hawk,” he growls. I swallow my smile. Some small part of me, some teeny-bopper who never got to do teeny-bopper things, thrills over how possessive he sounds. Pushing down my newfound hormones, I sweep the hair away from my face and laugh.

  “We’ll be fine. I’m not scared of the orderlies, are you?”

  “Fuck no,” a deeper voice answers, and a tingle shoots up my spine.

  “Hi, H,” I murmur, rising to my feet. Before Crane can respond, I make my way across the cafeteria toward the doors which will lead to the grounds. Crane hasn’t been out this way yet, as far as I know. It’s all part of the same gigantic yard that leads to the wall around Whisperwood, but the view is different from this entrance.

  I push through the doors and pass the gingercunt orderly. I remember him from my last outdoor excursion with Crane. He takes a step after me but stops as another set of footsteps sound behind me. That’s right, I snicker inside my own head, not so tough with my boyfriend, are you?

  Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, I watch Crane follow me down. My eyes slip from him to the gingercunt, and I wiggle my fingers in an annoying wave. The redhead’s lip curls back, but he doesn’t say a word, only takes his place beside the door again. He pulls out his cellphone, going back to whatever game he’d been playing before we came outside, and we make our way toward the grove of trees.

  “Why is this place called Whisperwood?” Crane asks, reaching out to take my hand.

  I squeeze his, thinking back to the story another resident had told me when I was a child. “Supposedly, the trees around this place are haunted, or used to be. When this area was still a small village, before the industrial revolution, the people named it Whisperwood Forest because of the voices they’d hear when they came into the woods.” A shiver crawls up my spine, and I shudder, stepping a little closer into Crane’s side.

  “Hmm,” he muses. “A crazy house built on land that makes you hear voices. Sounds like they invested in the right land. They’ll have patients forever.”

  I groan, coming to a slow stop beside him. His arm catches as he gets farther away, and then he comes back around to face me with a devilish grin.

  “Would it be so bad if you stayed here?” I ask quietly, feeling self-conscious.

  “Of course, I want to stay with you. This isn’t exactly what I had in mind, though,” he murmurs, brushing a piece of hair out of my face.

  “If you leave—”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Princess.” His head twitches slightly to the side, and I tilt mine, studying him.

  “What is he saying?”

  Crane takes a step back, meeting my eyes with a serious look in his. “He said we can’t leave you even if we wanted to. You’re ours.”

  Goosebumps break out along my skin, and I know it’s not from the chilly weather. I throw my arms around Crane’s neck and press my lips to his quickly, before anyone can see. He barely has time to meld his lips to mine before I step back, brushing my fingertips to my lips. “Sorry,” I whisper.

  “Do not ever be sorry for that,” he groans in a voice way too formal to be Crane.

  “H . . .”

  “It’s weird when you speak to him,” Crane coughs, shaking his head. “I don’t really know how I feel about it.”

  “Try not to think about it then,” I laugh, jogging ahead of him to a tree I haven’t climbed in way too long. I wrap my arms around the lowest hanging branch and walk up the trunk until my leg can swing over, then pull myself up. Sitting on the branch, I look down at Crane, admiring the way the wind ruffles his dark hair.

  “Are you really supposed to be up there?” His eyebrows draw close together as he looks at the tree. I can’t imagine him climbing up after me, so I decide to tease him a little.

  “I do all kinds of things I’m not supposed to do when I’m alone,” I taunt, grabbing ahold of the next branch up. As I swing my upper body up onto the rough bark I glance down at Crane and outright laugh. His face is red, his fingers skimming through his hair while he contemplates coming after me. “Calm down, FG. I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re making me nervous,” he admits. “You know how many people die every year doing dumb shit like this?” He grabs onto the branch and begins climbing. I pick up my pace, moving on to the next branch. The orderlies will lose their shit if they see us, but my heart beats in my eardrums, and I can’t convince myself to really care. This feels . . . real.

  When I get to the highest branch that will support me, I sit for a moment, glancing down at Crane. My legs swing out in the air and kick back and forth; I feel like a child again. Danny had to bring me down from this tree when I was a child more than once, actually. He wasn’t a fan, either.

  “Are you ready?” I ask, turning to the side a little.

  “For what?” Crane growls, and I’m not sure if it’s him or H speaking. It’s a little odd how the voice in his head speaks to me, but I refuse to diagnose it. I’m officially hanging up my backseat psychiatrist coat and just enjoying the moment from here on out.

  “To fly!” I toss a twig down at him, but it bounces off a branch before it ever reaches his head. Realistically we’re only about fifteen feet in the air, though it feels much higher than that. I wrap my legs around the branch and swing down, holding on with my arms too as my head hangs upside down.

  Crane rushes up the final few branches to meet me, worry written across his face. I wink at him the second before I let my legs go. “Oh, my God, Kenzie, don’t you dare,” he hisses.

  I release my hands next and squeal as I fall toward the ground. I land on my feet and roll down the slight hill at the base of the tree, laughing louder every time I hear him curse.

  “For fuck’s sake,” he yells, slowly making his way down the tree. “Goddamnit!” I cover my mouth, lying on my back in the grass as I wait for him to reach the bottom. If he’d just jump down, he’d get here much faster.

  “I’m going to kill you,” he mutters
when he finally reaches the ground again. He stands over me, hands on his hips and I can’t help but grin.

  “I’m not scared.”

  Something changes in his eyes; something sparks there, an emotion I can’t identify, but it catches my attention. Crane reaches down and hauls me to my feet with more strength than I thought he had in him. “No one will ever lay a finger on you, Mackenzie. God help them if they try.”

  I swallow hard, staring into his eyes. I know this isn’t him. The sane part of me acknowledges for a second that it’s all him, but it certainly doesn’t feel like it. We’re only breaths apart when they start hollering for us from the edge of the grove.

  “Come on, it’s getting dark, don’t make me come in there after you!”

  “It’s the gingercunt,” I whisper, not moving.

  “He owes me a head, anyway,” H responds, canting his head to the side. “But not today.”

  And just as quickly as this . . . manifested personality showed up, he’s gone. Crane shakes his head, taking a step back from me. “You really jumped out of the fucking tree,” he grumbles.

  “I did! Why didn’t you?”

  “Because I don’t want to die?” He takes my hand as we walk toward the edge of the grove, letting go before we step out into view of the orderlies. I physically feel his loss, the loss of his warmth, the loss of him. Them? Is it them? I ponder that as we make our way back inside to find Mitzy.

  We’d missed lunch. I’m not going to miss dinner with her, she was already pissed.

  /-/-/-/

  * * *

  I sink down into the padded chair beside Mitzy in the entertainment area. She’d barely spoken through dinner and intentionally avoided Crane. “Hey, you,” I clap my hands in tune to each word.

  Her eyes snap to mine with a feral smile. “Yes?” Oh she was mad mad.

  “Forgive me, or I’m not walking you home tonight.”

  “What?” she snaps, jumping to her feet. The Connect Four pieces in her lap—really, why did she have just the circles in her lap? —go flying when she does, and I cackle, I can’t help it.

  “You heard me. You can walk home all alone to your room and deal with the spies and the ghosts.” I cross my arms dramatically, narrowing my eyes on her. Mitzy considers it for a moment, scratching her head beneath her short, dark hair.

  “Fine.” She nods like that’s the end of it, and I roll my eyes, bending down to pick up the errant pieces of the game she definitely isn’t playing.

  “Do you want to actually play Connect Four?” I gesture vaguely to the yellow and blue contraption on the table beside us.

  “Yes?” She bats her eyelashes at me in that childish way, and I can’t help but adore her. Mitzy, the little-older sister I never had. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

  “FG is probably getting pantsed in UNO, right about now,” I chuckle. “He’ll be fine without me for one night, right?”

  “Right,” she nods.

  * * *

  /-/-/-/

  * * *

  I close the door softly behind me, brushing my fingertips over my lips. All through the game-night with Mitzy, my mind kept replaying the kiss outside. Something about Crane makes me want more. I finally feel like I’m back to normal after seeing him today, and that’s a little scary. Getting this attached, this fast, after what happened with—

  I put the thought out of my mind and move into the bathroom and brush my teeth. I need to wash my messy hair, but I don’t really want to. Grabbing the ends I bring them to my nose and inhale. It smells like October, like outside and trees and leaves and kissing Crane.

  My cheeks blush as I catch my own eye in the mirror, and I storm out of the bathroom toward my bed, ripping the comforter back. “You are not some little girl with a crush,” I growl as I climb into my bed. I lay there and stare at the ceiling for a minute, trying to put the kiss out of my mind. When I finally concede it’s not working, I grab my stolen book from my bedside table and open it to my favorite part.

  * * *

  “If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.”

  * * *

  My finger traced those words over and over, just like it had done for years. Some part of me has always wanted to feel a love like this. An all-consuming love like the one that absolutely ruins Heathcliff and Catherine.

  “Why do I want to break my heart so bad?” I whisper to no one, closing the book. I lean back again, letting it lay on my chest while I playback everything that’s happened recently. Yoon tells me constantly how obsessive I can be. The fact of the matter is, I’m probably the sanest person in this goddamned institution but no one will listen to that. If you’re the sanest crazy person in the loony bin, do you win a prize? Good behavior? Sentence suspension? Nope, it’s just another form of punishment.

  The sound of the lock in my door being turned draws my eye. I’m pretty sure they locked the doors a while ago. I sit up in the bed, grabbing my pillow—what in the fuck is a pillow supposed to do if it’s someone with bad intentions?

  “Princess?” Crane whispers at the door.

  My heart stops. I drop the pillow and run to the door, pulling him inside before he can get caught. It’s not nearly late enough to go sneaking around Whisperwood! He’s going to get caught. Didn’t he learn his lesson with our little stint in Crazy Jail?

  “FG! You idiot,” I hiss, closing the door behind him. “You’re going to get caught.”

  “I missed you after dinner,” he admits bashfully. I want to be mad; I do. I want to tell him he shouldn’t have come, that he’s putting us at risk of getting in trouble again but fuck it. This is worth it. That Heathcliff and Catherine love. I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze, shuddering only a little when his come around my lower waist.

  “I missed you, too,” I murmur.

  He grabs my ass, completely ruining my mushy epic love moment then divebombs my bed. “Ooh, what’s this?” He picks up my copy of Wuthering Heights and begins flipping through the pages.

  I scream internally. I’ve had the book for years. I’ve written all in the margins, and God forbid he decides to read any of that nonsense. Scrambling onto the bed quickly, I yank it from his hand and toss it on the nightstand.

  “Hands off my stuff, FG,” I snap. “Personal boundaries, you know anything about them?”

  “Oooh, someone’s touchy. Brönte is pretty cool, actually.”

  “You read?” My heart literally hammers against my chest. Out of all the things this psycho has said and done, this might be the sexiest. Crane smirks as he leans back on my bed, cozying his head into my pillow like he owns the place.

  “How does it go? If all else were to perish—” I crawl up to him and kiss his lips before he can finish quoting the exact sentence I’d just been obsessing over. The exact sentence I’d been obsessing over for years. I can’t stand to hear him say it, for some reason. It’s just . . . too much.

  Crane’s arms come around me, his hand sliding into my hair as we chase each other’s lips. His tongue slips between my lips and against my own tongue, pulling a soft sigh from me.

  “Come here,” he whispers against my mouth.

  “I’m right here, genius.” I’m not proud that I’m out of breath from one little kiss, but it’s been a while since I got any real action, and he’s killing me, right now.

  “I want to hold you, come on. Get the light.”

  My eyebrows crinkle as I stare at him for a second. He wants to cuddle? Okayyyy. I jump from the bed and turn off the lights, then crawl underneath my cover. He quickly joins me, pulling an arm around my waist until my back is flush with his chest.

  “You’d better not be here in the morning,” I warn. “Danny will murder us both.”

  “He could try,” he yawns. “H keeps telling me I’m invincible. Maybe it’s time to test that out.”

  My mouth squishes to the side as I contemplate it. I�
��d rather he didn’t, but I don’t say that. I just snuggle back against him and let my eyes close. Snuggles may not be all I want, but damn, this is nice.

  * * *

  My eyes fly open. I don’t even remember falling asleep. As I try to raise up, I realize there’s arms around me. Oh, that’s right, Crane is here. I lay still, listening to the room. Something must have woken me. It’s not daylight yet, thank fuck. Behind me, Crane groans in his sleep.

  “Why should you be spared?” he growls. He sounds vicious, but his body shakes when he speaks. He’s having a nightmare. “That head . . .”

  I roll over in his arms, which takes way more effort than it should, and face him. His eyes are clamped shut tight and tracing paths behind his lids. He’s really dreaming hard. Running my hand down the side of his face, I try whispering his name. “Crane.”

  “You’ll be judged,” he snarls, his arms tightening around me.

  “Crane,” I whisper again, tracing my finger down the bridge of his nose.

  Crane’s hips grind against the side of my leg, and I suck in a breath at how hard he is. Why do his nightmares make him so fucking hard? Not that I’m complaining. I roll my hips against his out of instinct before he begins to shout.

  “I want his head!” he roars, throwing my arm off him as he sits up in bed

  “Crane!” I hiss, reaching out for his shoulder. “Shut the fuck up before you get everyone in Whisperwood in here.”

  His back heaves with every breath. Each muscle coils and releases, displaying the tension. I slide my hand down his shoulder to his back, tracing over the muscles as they twitch. “Baby, calm down.”

  Crane turns to face me, taking my hand in his. “I’m sorry.” His eyes meet mine, and I can tell he’s upset.

  “What are the dreams about?” Squeezing his hand in mine, I chase his gaze when he tries to look way. “It’s okay, you can tell me.”