He held the glass until the water inside was lukewarm, and with a bit of thought pushed a cold shock through it that half froze its contents again. He didn't feel dehydrated, but his mouth was as dry as sun-baked sand. He carefully took a drink, glancing at the clock and not necessarily loving what he saw. He missed his sculpting class yet again---twice in less than two weeks. He didn't want to let it go---he liked it, after all. He didn't want to fail. And as long as he got his work in before grades went in, he wouldn't have to worry. But catching up took a lot of time and effort, focus, a steady hand and clear eyes.

When the door opened Cian raised his gaze curiously, then dropped it immediately. Was Layland acting like he cared? Perhaps to keep up some ruse to others or to fool himself? But he wouldn't know Cian was even around still; it was past four, and most classes ended at four. When Layland spoke, the nurse's assistant reentered with a bottle and folded paper. "He hasn't made it out at all, hun." She said, smiling at Layland before turning her gaze to Cian. "But he's just fine. Here, Cian." She handed him the bottle and paper. "These are pretty strong sleeping pills so you'd better read the directions carefully, okay?"

Cian nodded quickly, letting go of the glass when the nurse's assistant took it and grabbing his bag to stow the bottle and paper in one of the outer compartments. When he stood, he felt lightheaded and weak at the knees.