AllFreeNovel
Share Us
People waiting for me to talk, to make a mistake.
And then I remember. The birds on the ceiling in the activity room.
Wren, sparrow, roadrunner, quail.
I say it three times in my head before I feel safe enough to speak.
“No, just…I’m Bella, and I’m here because of…drinking. Whatever. That’s it. That’s what you want to hear, so there you go. It’s not a big deal.”
“We want to hear whatever you want to tell us, Bella,” Fran says slowly. “It’s a safe space.”
“I don’t really like talking in front of big groups,” I say tentatively.
“Then you came to the wrong rehab, girl, because this place is all about sharing.” Charlotte laughs. “It’s a veritable buffet of emotional vomit.”
“It isn’t about what we want to hear, Bella,” Fran says. “It’s about you learning to say things that maybe you’ve keptinside? Things that might be feeding your drinking problem.”
“I don’t have a problem,” I say. “Things just got out of hand all of a sudden. That’s all.” My voice is prickly.
“I’d say that Bella isn’t ready to talk yet,” Gideon says quietly, her fingers thrumming the side of her pink beanbag. “Which is fine. And we should move on.”
I look at her and smile gratefully. She shrugs.
“Okay,” Fran says. “Well, Sarah is leaving us tomorrow and she’s going to talk about how she’s feeling about that. Are you ready, Sarah?”
A girl on a red beanbag nods and stands up. She pushes her blond hair away from her face; there are a lot of empty holes up and down her earlobes. She looks nervous, pawing at the hem of her faded Mac Miller T-shirt.
“Well,” she says. “I’m worried. I’m scared. What’s school going to be like? Do I have any friends left? Do I have any friends whodon’tuse? How am I supposed to find new friends? Also, I kind of despise my parents, so…that’s going to be an issue, for sure.”
She talks, and everyone listens, or seems to, except me. I’m still keeping my face down because that kid Josh is still looking at me.
My brain says:Do not.
My heart says:This is going to be tough.
—
“Ages,” Gideon says into the dark room. “Everybody say how old you are. And how many times you’ve done this.”
We are in our beds. Holly is rustling around in hers, agitated. I brushed my teeth and peed and got ready for bed next toabout a bajillion other girls in the long, brightly lit bathroom. Gideon smashed a roach with her slide. Brandy squealed.
“Seventeen, almost eighteen and freeee,” Charlotte singsongs. “Three.”
“Seventeen,” Gideon says. “Two. The first time I was sixteen. I got better at it after that, but I slipped up this last time.”
From beneath her blanket, Holly mumbles, “Sixteen and can you please all be quiet.”
“No,” Gideon says. “Put your pillow over your head. Don’t be a drag.”
“Fine,” Holly says under the blanket. “First time. But I did grippy sock by accident. Does that count?”
“How on earth do you get sent to the nutbin onaccident?” Gideon leans up on one elbow.
From her bed, Holly’s voice is hoarse. “I went a little too far…with something.”
There’s a silence.
“You a cutter?” Charlotte says finally, her voice curious.
