CHAPTER TWENTY
“What are you thinking about?” Gabe asked.
Krystal didn’t answer right away and he waited.
They were at the doctor’s office now. Chloe had just gone in and they’d ended up saying they preferred patients to have first time visits be solo if at all possible.
Chloe had ultimately decided to just roll with it and he wondered if the policy had anything to do with protecting her.
He wondered how many cases of abusive partners they saw and tried to help out somehow.
If that was the motivation behind it, he supported it.
He’d spent the rest of the previous night looking over edits for My Tall Blonde. Holly, Liz, and Chloe had all done their edits, and Krystal and Ellen were both on the final book at that point, so he had gotten started on his own final pass.
Sometimes he wondered if this was too much effort for what was essentially an erotic novella series, but then he decided that since he could afford to take extra time, he might as well. And maybe it would help to elevate him above the rest.
He’d gotten through the first two novellas last night before heading to bed. When Chloe had been ready to go to her appointment today, Ellen and Holly had both been intensely involved in what they were doing, and Liz had gone out to explore the city, so he and Krystal had joined her.
Krystal had seemed more anxious than Chloe, though.
“Everyone says I probably have ADHD,” Krystal said finally.
“I’ve just been thinking about it. I mean, I’m scared.
There’s always those stories of creative people who had some kind of mental problem and they take meds to fix it and it turns them into a zombie that can’t be creative anymore.
And I know it’s really overblown, but...
that can happen. What if I lose what little talent I have?
What if I just...can’t write? And it becomes a question between being a scatterbrained dipshit who can kind of write or a more put together person who can’t write even if she tries? ”
“That’s...a reasonable fear. You aren’t a dipshit, Krystal.”
She laughed a little cynically. “That’s not what you were telling me last night.”
“Come on, Krystal.”
She sighed. “Yeah, I know. Just...but what if?”
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told Chloe: whatever happens, we’ll help you handle it. We’ll be there to catch you when you fall.”
She snorted. “When, not if.”
“Krystal, we’re all gonna fall. All of us. More than once. That’s what a relationship is about. I mean, it’s about a lot of things, but that’s a big one.”
“Liz tells me the same thing…”
“Is it helping?”
“I don’t know. I mean, yes. It is. But it doesn’t-just, it doesn’t make the fear go away.
It just pushes it back into its cave, but it keeps coming back.
But that isn’t really what I was thinking about.
It’s what I started out with but then I just started getting so fucking pissed off at society when I asked myself: what if it does work? ”
“How so?”
“So like, if it does work and it fixes my fucking brain and I can still write or even write better, like...that means I could’ve been on this shit and fixed for years.
What if I’d gotten it in fucking high school?
I mean all the signs were there. And then there’s the obvious answer of: well my mom just didn’t have the money to make that happen and even if she did she was the sort of fucking ‘grit your teeth and get over it’ type of person, so she’d probably just say I could do without.
“But it’s like...this is such bullshit. Why should I have to fucking suffer for decades from a goddamned treatable condition?
Why wasn’t anyone looking out for me when I was a kid?
Why is it so fucking hard to get fucking medication and treatment and to just be taken seriously in this country?
How is this okay? And half the motherfuckers out there actually defend this shit?
! Like it’s good that our fucking medical industry is a wreck and that we’re ripping everyone off just so that they can shove a few more million dollars up rich fuckers’ asses?
I’m just so fucking pissed about it because it’s all so fucking stupid and meaningless. ”
“Yeah,” Gabe murmured. “That’s basically one of the first big conversations Ellen and I had around the time we got together.
Realizing how much of society is just unnecessary bullshit, and how we’re basically all incentivized to cut each others’ throats.
And you can’t really meaningfully debate with most people about shit like capitalism and politics because so many people have such a fucking surface level understanding of it all, or treat it like a fucking football game.
And too many fuckheads will just straight up mock you for giving a shit about things like basic human decency and the climate. ”
“I fucking genuinely do not understand the climate shit. Like do people not fucking realize that if the climate gets fucked, we get fucked? Like do they think they can go live on some other planet with perfect conditions for human life?”
“I think it’s mostly a matter of they literally just do not grasp the situation at an intellectual level.
And that’s really infuriating because I don’t want to die just because too many people are too fucking stupid to recognize a threat when they see it.
But at the same time, it’s also kind of hard to be all that pissed about it because there is just so much shit out there now to have to learn and remember and understand and extrapolate.
“And it’s getting worse every year. And you can’t tell who’s full of shit and who isn’t if you don’t have a serious, and genuine, grasp of a subject.
And even if you get that grasp, well, now everyone you try to talk to can’t tell if you’re full of shit, and they’re too busy working three jobs to keep fucking food on the table to even think about meaningfully learning about a tenth of this shit. ”
They both fell silent for a long moment.
“Is it just me, or did the rich assholes win? I mean that last part seems like it’s just getting worse.
We’re fucking stupid lucky to be in this situation.
I know there’s still those dipshit ‘hustle and grind’ motherfuckers out there who talk about how everyone’s just whining and they need to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, but they’re brain damaged so whatever. ”
“I...don’t know if they won. It feels like it. But only because we have functional pattern recognition.” He sighed heavily.
“This is getting depressing. Sorry.”
“Well, it can’t be weed and sex and video games all the time,” he muttered.
“I wish it could be...although to be honest, I guess we’re a hell of a lot closer to that than most people.
” She sighed and groaned. “Now I feel like an asshole complaining about this shit when we have it so easy, but it’s not like I’m even complaining on my behalf anymore.
I’m complaining for the hundred million poor fuckers who are struggling their asses off, because I’ve fucking been there. I spent most of my life there.”
“We all did,” Gabe murmured. “Maybe except Liz. She really has her shit together.”
“Oh yeah, definitely. She’s so smart and with it. I wonder if she’ll even need therapy or pills.”
“I think everyone needs at least a little therapy, if only because it can get you to see something important in a way that finally makes it click and actually gets you to make a change you didn’t even realize you should be making to make your life better.”
“Huh. I guess I never really thought about therapy that way.” She looked around suddenly and hugged herself. “I hate places like this. Hospital shit. Always so freaky, puts me on edge. I’m glad we’re alone at least.”
A few moments of unhappy silence passed by. Gabe decided to try and restart the conversation, for both their sakes.
“So this ‘dynamic date’, what does that actually mean?” he asked.
She looked over at him, then smirked. “You can’t pry information out of me.”
“Come on. Can’t you even give me a little bit?”
She sighed dramatically. “I suppose. I do love you, after all. And you scratched an itch that hasn’t been scratched in a long time. Also, better than anyone else. You can fucking slap, boy.”
He looked around, feeling heat rushing to his cheeks. “Thanks.”
“Don’t be ashamed,” she replied, smirking more broadly. “But basically, it’s like we’re gonna go hard for one half, and then calm for the second half.”
“By hard, you mean sex?”
“No, that’s the epilogue. And yeah, I’m gonna fucking break you.”
“I’m still very curious about what that means.”
“It’s not anything weird, don’t worry.” She paused, sighed. “Fine. We’re gonna fucking ride you to death. Take turns bouncing on you until your hips break.”
“Oh. Well. I’m definitely looking forward to that.”
She smirked. “I think you’ll regret that the morning after.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. But it’ll be worth it.”
“I’m so glad you aren’t scared of horny women.”
“I can’t imagine a world in which I would be.”
“You’d be surprised how many guys are all talk. Oop.” She looked past him and he turned to look as well, spying Chloe coming back out of the other side of the clinic.
He tried to get a measure of her mood. She looked...about neutral. That had to be good, given how dark and gloomy she normally was. She held a slip of paper.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
“Surprisingly good. She was pretty cool. She convinced me my mole isn’t, you know, cancerous. I guess it wouldn’t look like how it looks if there was an actual risk. She also wrote me a scrip for some basic anti anxiety meds, so we should hit a pharmacy after this.”
“That seems kinda fast,” Krystal murmured.
“I thought so, too. Honestly I kinda thought I’d have to talk with a psychologist, and she says I should, but I guess the risks are pretty low from trying out a low dosage of this stuff and seeing what it does. Basically I just have to take a pill a day for a month and see how it helps me.”
“How do you feel about that?” Gabe asked.
“Nervous, but I’m nervous about everything because I have anxiety problems. That aside, I guess I feel...hopeful? Either way, can we get out of here? Hospital-type places still weird me out.”
“Yep,” Krystal agreed.
Gabe nodded and stood up with her. The three of them headed for the exit, pausing to set up another appointment a little less than a month from now as a check-in and, should it work, to get a consistent scrip for the medication.
“I’m kinda jealous of you,” Krystal said as they got back into Gabe’s car.
“Me? What?” Chloe replied, turning around in her seat.
“Yeah. I’ve seen you facing stuff down recently, like intense stuff, and you just...do it. But I can tell it’s not easy for you, like it is for Liz.”
“It’s definitely not easy. It’s so fucking draining. It’s embarrassing. Like, I’m tired now. I feel like I want to just lock myself in my room and not do anything the rest of the day.”
“Anxiety is really taxing,” Gabe replied.
“Fuck, is that why I get so tired after doing basic ass shit like this?” Krystal asked. “Do I have anxiety?”
“Probably,” he replied. “People with ADHD usually have anxiety as a consequence.”
She sighed heavily. “Great...sorry. I was saying I think you’re awesome.”
Chloe laughed awkwardly. “Thanks.”
“She doesn’t know what to do with praise,” Gabe said.
“Oh shut up, like you do,” she shot back.
“None of us do, I think,” Krystal said.
“I guess that’s what all this is for,” Chloe replied. “So...on a different train of thought, are we going to get to watch during the fun times of your date?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Krystal said, grinning deviously. “There is no way anyone is missing this. We are going to fuck the soul out of him.”
“That sounds really hot,” Chloe murmured.
“It will be.”
“I have doubts you can deliver,” Gabe said.
Krystal snapped her gaze over to him. “You. Did. Not.”
“I did,” he replied. “What are you going to do about it?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’ll see.”
Gabe laughed and drove on.