Free Every Fifteen Minutes by Lisa Scottoline Page A

she’s always with her boyfriend. He lives in the city.”
    â€œHow about your dad? Is he around?” Eric knew the answer from Max’s grandmother, but he wanted to hear it from Max.
    â€œNo.” Max raked his thin hair back with his fingers, his fingernails bitten to the quick. “He left when I was little. He was a drunk, too. I hardly remember him.”
    Eric could see it was topsy-turvy, with Max parentified and the parents abdicating their roles. “And no brothers or sisters?”
    â€œNo, just me.” Max smiled crookedly. “Red flags, right? Abandonment issues, mother issues, father issues?”
    Eric wanted to deflect Max’s tendency to diagnose himself. “Do you drink or use other substances?”
    â€œNo.”
    Eric met his eye. “You can tell me.”
    â€œOkay, sometimes. I drink a little and I tried weed in a brownie, but I threw up.”
    Eric made notes. “You absolutely should not do any drugs or smoke weed, as an OCD sufferer. Do you understand?”
    â€œOkay, chill.” Max’s eyes flared. “I didn’t know that. I mean, it’s practically legal now.”
    â€œIt’s not about the law. This is medicine, and the law is behind the science, as usual. Now, tell me about your friends.”
    â€œMy what? I don’t have any.” Max chuckled, a huh-huh sound without mirth.
    â€œAcquaintances?” Eric felt a pang for him, but kept his face in a professional mask.
    â€œNot really. I mean, I hardly ever talk to people, IRL.”
    â€œIRL?”
    â€œIn real life. I have online friends, I’m a gamer. Hardcore.”
    â€œWhat do you mean by hardcore? How many hours a day?” Eric remembered Max’s grandmother had mentioned it at the hospital.
    â€œI play a lot.” Max checked his watch.
    â€œHow much is a lot? This is a judgment-free zone.”
    Max smiled, tightly. “Six hours at night, like, until late.”
    Eric made a note, gamer. “Are you in any activities or sports, at school?”
    â€œDo I look like I play any sports?” Max chuckled again, nervously.
    â€œWhat about activities or clubs?”
    â€œI’m a mathlete. Too bad they don’t have mathletic scholarships, huh?” Max smiled ruefully, and Eric smiled back, trying to hold his eye contact until the boy looked away.
    â€œWhat is school like for you during the day?”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œWhat’s it like, a typical day? Are you lonely?”
    â€œI’m on my own, but that’s fine. I like being alone because nobody’s around to see me tapping.”
    Eric’s heart went out to him. He knew firsthand how having a mental disorder could be so isolating, and sufferers tended to hide. “Are you bullied?”
    â€œNot really.” Max checked his watch again. “I’m ignored.”
    â€œHow so?”
    â€œLike, for example, my Spanish class had a Halloween party and I went as The Invisible Man, like that old movie. Gummy turned me onto it, she loves that movie. Anyway, I put on sunglasses and a trench coat. I wrapped my face in an Ace bandage.” Max gestured around his head. “But nobody noticed. How ironic is that?”
    Eric made a mental note, listening. It wasn’t hard to hear the loneliness behind the story. “What about teachers? Do you have a favorite teacher? Or one that you’re close to?”
    â€œNo. They’re all okay except my Language Arts teacher, who’s a bitch.” Max’s small hand flew to cover his mouth. “Sorry, can I say that, here?”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œAnyway, whatever, socially, I’m on my own. There’s nothing more to say about it.”
    â€œIf there were nothing more to say about it, I’d be out of business.” Eric was trying to relax him, make him laugh, but Max didn’t. “Let’s go back to how you feel about the way things are,