Chapter 4

Reid stepped from the bathroom scrubbing his hair with a towel. "Okay, you can take your shower," he said. "There are clean towels in my top drawer. I've given Brad and Lauren the heads' up."

"Were you talking to Brad in there?" she asked. "I thought I heard conversation."

"Yeah -- Brad came in."

"You guys must've been comparing notes."

"I wouldn't do that sort of thing, Monica."

"Oh, come on. I know guys do it. Girls do it."

She swung her feet to the floor. From her bag she retrieved a fresh pair of panties.

"You're always prepared, aren't you?"

"Always," she replied.

Brad pawed through his drawer for an appropriate shirt. He could hear the shower running in the bathroom.

Monica stepped from the bathroom, pulling her fingers through her wet hair. "Brad -- do you have a hair dryer? That's one thing I didn't bring."

"No ... sorry."

"I'll just pop next door and see if Lauren has one." She wrapped a towel around herself under her arms and headed back toward the bathroom.

"Uhh ... Monica..."

She pulled the door closed behind her; then returned moments later with the dryer.

"Plug's over there," Reid said and pointed.

"That was odd," Monica said. "Lauren seemed a little ... cold."

Reid watched her bend over and blow her hair from underneath. She stood, shaped her hair with her palms and began tying it into a ponytail.

"I'll take this," he said and picked up the hair dryer.

"Lauren said to leave it in the bathroom." Monica pulled her vest sweater over her turtleneck. "I don't mind wearing the same clothes two days in a row ... so long as I have clean underwear."

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah ... Sorry I took so long."

"I though you were pretty efficient," Reid replied. He took her hand and led her to the cafeteria. "We'll put everything on one tray -- maybe we can get away with using only one meal block."

He carried the tray to the cashier and then to a table. Monica sat beside him and they sorted out the breakfast items.

"You have the coffee ... I have the juice," she remarked. Reid saw her look up and wave. He followed her sightline and saw Brad and Lauren enter the cafeteria. Lauren gave her a little wave in return.

Monica spread jam on some toast. "You're awfully quiet all of a sudden," she said. "Is something wrong?"

He looked into her eyes. "Monica -- how many times have you tried to kill yourself?"

"Just the once," she replied and held up her wrist. "Why?"

"The social contract ... I think part of it is the two parties must be absolutely, brutally honest with each other. Don't you agree?"

A wave of panic washed over her eyes. "Yes ... yes I agree. What's wrong, Reid?"

"I mean, both parties have to be able to trust what the other says."

"Absolutely," she replied. "What's this about?"

He sighed. "This morning, Brad and Lauren told me about an ... incident last year. Lauren said you broke up with some guy, got despondent and tried to kill yourself by overdosing on your antidepressants."

She shook her head. "No. That never happened. It couldn't happen."

"You're sure? She said you spent a week in the hospital and your parents had you transferred to Heller Hall, hoping you'd have some supervision there." Monica shook her head. "You're sure it didn't happen?"

"I would know, wouldn't I? Reid -- you are the first guy I've had any sort of meaningful relationship with since I came to State. I've had some dates, but nothing developed into a relationship. So -- no guy could dump me."

"Without a dumper, you can't be a dumpee."

"Right. As far as Heller Hall goes -- it wasn't my first choice. I have the letter from the housing office and I can show it to you. It plainly states my first, second and third choices where not available -- only Heller Hall. Besides, they don't allow visitors, but it isn't a convent. We can come and go as we please and what we do on our own is our business. And, there's no way I could overdose on my prescription."

"Why not?"

"Because I'd need to swallow more than a month's supply and they don't give me more than that. It's one reason they prescribe it that way."

"Lauren says you told her you see Dr Dolan."

"Of course I see Dr Dolan -- it's how I get my prescription refilled. They don't write refillable prescriptions for this drug. So, once a month I have an appointment with Dr Dolan. It lasts ten -- fifteen minutes at most. He asks me how things are going and I say fine. He asks me if I'm having any difficulty and I say no. He asks me if I'm experiencing any side-effects and I say no. He asks if there's anything I'd like to discuss and I say no. Then he writes me a new prescription and I'm out of there. I'm not having any long, therapy sessions with him." She opened her bag and pulled out a pill bottle. "This is what I take. See? The prescribing doctor is..."

"Dr Dolan." He turned the bottle over in his fingers. "This warning states that patients under twenty-five may experience increased incidents of suicide ideation."

"There are reports that teenagers taking that drug do think about suicide more than those that don't. It doesn't translate into increased suicide attempts."

"Thinking about it is the first step in doing it, isn't it?"

"I suppose ... but it hasn't affected me that way. I used to think about suicide all the time, Reid -- but I haven't since I've been taking it. It has helped me enormously."

He handed her the pill bottle and regarded her. "I believe you. I believe everything you said."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure. It all sounds logical and reasonable."

"I'm disturbed," she said. "Why would Lauren say something like that about me? It must be why she gave me the cold shoulder when I asked for the hair dryer."

"I'm sure it was in good faith," Reid replied. "I mean ... she feels some responsibility for bringing us together. She has this information and thought I should know. Monica -- If I had done anything like that -- wouldn't YOU want to know about it?"

She nodded. "I suppose."

"She admitted she heard this third or fourth hand. Maybe she has you confused with someone else."

"I do recall hearing about a music student last year who did something like that."

"But it wasn't you?"

"No -- I didn't miss a day of school last year ... Still ... It does disturb me."

"I think in a situation like this there is only one explanation," Reid remarked.

"What's that?"

"That one party is..."

"Lying?"

"Mistaken. And I think the likelihood that you're mistaken is pretty small ... unless you suffer from multiple personalities..."

"Which I don't."

" ... or have some crazy, evil twin over there we don't know about."

She chortled. "That's not likely, either."

"So, Lauren is mistaken. It's as simple as that. Case closed." He reached for her hand. "That is exactly what I mean about the social contract. We had a discussion, we were honest with each other and it's resolved."

Monica sipped her juice. "Reid -- If something like that were true ... What would that do to the score?"

"Nothing," he replied. "It wouldn't change how I feel for you. It might change how I deal with you."

"What do you mean?"

"We're still learning about each other. If I discovered something like that about you ... If I thought there was a risk that something I did might make you ... Well, I'd be damned sure I never did that sort of thing."

She nodded. "I understand what you're trying to say. But, why don't we simply treat each other that way, anyway? Do we really have to come close to losing something before we cherish it?"

"In other words -- let's never take each other for granted."

She nodded. "Exactly. Can we make that part of the social contract?"

"Do you want to shake on it?" She extended her hand and he grasped it. "Deal."

"Deal," she replied.

"So," Reid said. "Now we need to figure out what we're going to do today. What do you usually do on a Saturday?"

"Well ... I really should practice for my recitals."

"Can you practice here? We have the piano in the lounge."

"I suppose ... I have a voice recital."

"I haven't heard you sing yet."

"I will have to go back to State."

"What for? Weren't you planning to stay here tonight?"

"Why, Reid -- I believe you were taking it for granted."

"Monica -- I would love it if you'd stay here with me tonight. Will you?"

"I was afraid you wouldn't ask," she replied with a smile. "At any rate, I'll need to pack an overnight bag. I don't mind wearing the same clothes two days in a row ... but three is pushing it."

"Do you have more underwear in your bag?"

"No, I don't -- so that's another reason."

"Do you have some clothes you could leave here ... just in case? I can make some room in a drawer. I know Lauren keeps some things in Brad's room ... like that robe she wears."

"I think so. It sounds like a good idea. I wish I had a robe like that. Oh ... Also I'll need to take a nap."

"A nap?"

"It's the antidepressant -- it makes me need a little more sleep. If I take a one-hour nap in the afternoon then I'm good for the evening. Otherwise, I'm sleepy, groggy, dopey, grumpy -- all seven dwarves at once."

Reid pondered. "How about we go to State together. I've never spent any time in that part of town. You can show me your synthesizer lab. You can go to your room and pack a bag."

"We can have lunch over there -- my treat," she suggested.