Page 92 of Under the Influence

He pulls my mask back down over my face, "I like Lainey a lot. I don't want to do anything to hurt her."

Good. Maybe we could be friends after all. Well, at least not enemies.

Do I trust him? No.

Do I think he's a monster like Nash? Also, no.

He's not a threat.

When practice is over, we all grab our shit from the field house, but Nash is still running, stopping every little bit to dry heave.

"You coming over?" I ask Drayton. "Lainey won't be there for an hour or so, but you can follow me if you want. Unless you have something better to do."

He pulls the door open on his Jeep, "Nah, sounds good. Let's go."

We pull up outside my house, my mom's car still missing from the driveway. She must be working late at the station. She's been doing that a lot lately. "Saving money for college," she claims. But she's delusional if she thinks I'm going to college.

I pull the mail out of the mailbox, flipping through the stack. Mostly kitchen table bills, ones that will sit there until they're nearly late, but a pink envelope catches my eye.

A.Sinclair.

Drayton walks in the door behind me, and I shove the letter into my pocket. I set everything down on the kitchen table like it's no big deal and kick the front door shut with my foot.

"I'll be right back. I gotta go to the bathroom," I lie, shutting myself in and locking the door behind me.

I pull the letter from my pocket, careful not to rip it as I pull it open.

The white-lined paper isn't covered in words, but the purple ink is delicate, and each curve of the letters reminds me of her.

Madden,

I lied to you.

When you asked if I was okay, I lied.

When the doctors asked me if I tried to hurt myself, I lied.

For a split second, I thought I could make it stop. I wanted it to end. The pain. The lies.

I wanted to die because I already felt dead. Dead inside.

And this place, it's my hell.

It smells like a hospital.

The medication messes with my head.

The nurses treat me like I’m crazy.

Everyone looks at me like I'm some kind of alien. How could a pretty, rich girl land herself in here?

My dad left me here and walked away like it was nothing, like it was just another errand to check off his list.

I miss my room.

I miss my mom.

I miss you.