Conspiracies - Mercedes Lackey [55]
Spirit repressed a groan, and she was pretty sure she heard muffled sighs and moans from some of the others, too. Another shrink … she’d had her fill of shrinks at the hospital. If she had her way, she’d never see another shrink again. She didn’t even know what this “Dr. MacKenzie” looked like; in the months she’d been here, she’d never seen him, not even at meals or the dances. Or at least, if she had, she hadn’t known who he was.
“I’ve got your assigned times right here,” Ms. Smith said, in that tone of voice that pretty much made it clear there was no point in arguing with her. She began handing out little envelopes, and Spirit took hers with a sinking heart. From the looks on the faces of some of the others, they felt the same.
* * *
From the buzz at supper, it looked like, sure enough, everyone had gotten the appointments. Some people were actually happy about it; Mariana for one. She really was in bad shape, her voice had a shrill edge that carried right across the Refectory. “Maybe he can give me something so I can sleep,” she was saying, and it was true that she did look pretty awful, big dark circles under her eyes, and her eyes red from crying, lack of sleep, or both. Austin Phillips, who was at her table, smirked. “If we’re going to get drugs out of this, it might not be all bad,” he said, loud enough that other kids smirked or frowned or looked embarrassed, as if that was something they’d thought but hadn’t said out loud.
Muirin was one of the ones who smirked. “Let’s see,” she said in a quiet, mocking tone. “What drug would I like to get? Something fun, not a downer like Prozac.”
“Don’t joke about that,” Addie said crossly, cutting her meat with a lot more energy than the ham warranted. “It’s not funny.”
“Why not? What put a burr up your butt?” Muirin asked.
Addie put her silverware down on the table with a clatter. “It’s not funny because the Trust decided I needed to see a shrink before I came here—and he put me on so much Prozac I was a zombie, that’s why!” she hissed angrily. “I didn’t have two clear thoughts in a row until I got here and they took me off it.”
Spirit started to say something sympathetic, but Muirin just shrugged. “So you should have done what I did, and either flush the pills or throw them up if it was something I didn’t want to take. Seriously, Addie, lighten up. If you don’t want to game the system, fine. But don’t get all self-righteous about it.”
Addie’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t retort. The rest of the meal was passed in unusual silence, and as soon as Austin got up from his table, Muirin gulped down the last of her dessert and went to join him.
Burke patted Addie’s hand. “Don’t worry,” he said soothingly. “Doc Mac doesn’t like to prescribe drugs. He’s a magician, too, and he won’t give out anything that interferes with magic—which is most stuff.”
Addie relaxed a little. “I just worry about her, you know?” she said, looking into Burke’s eyes in a way that made Spirit feel a little uncomfortable twinge of jealousy. “She doesn’t think things through. What if we’re all drugged up and whatever it was that hit us does it again? A lot of stuff doesn’t just interfere with magic, it opens you wide up for anything—” She broke off. “I just don’t want to see Murr-cat hurt.”
“Well I saw Doc Mac for a while when I first got here, and he’s okay,” Burke said with confidence. “Muirin might think she can game him, but he’s pretty sharp. Serve her right if he decided what she needed was more time in the exercise room as therapy.”
Addie almost choked, and even Spirit and Loch found themselves grinning a little. Still, Spirit was not looking forward to her session. No matter what Burke said … Burke was far too inclined to think that everyone was