Unsound: A Horizons Book (3 page)

”Well, I’d like to give you a trial run if you’re interested. We aren’t exactly orthodox here, so we like to make sure that you’re comfortable with our methods and vibe with the kids before drawing up contracts,” I said, shuffling papers to look anywhere but Lena’s beautiful face or toned, tan legs. She had no idea that she was killing me every time she crossed and re-crossed her legs.

“Absolutely!” Lena exclaimed. A grin split her face when I finally looked up at her; I swore my heart stopped beating. I felt a heat spread through my chest and felt my mouth break into a grin of its own. I was sure I looked like a goofy idiot but I didn’t care.

We worked out details, and I stepped from behind my desk to walk Lena out. Her shoulder brushed against my arm as I leaned around her to get the door, sending a shiver up my arm. The way she looked at me told me that she felt it too. As I shut the door after our goodbye, I leaned against it running a hand through my hair.

“This may not be a good idea,” I told myself, trying to shake the image of Lena from my mind as I walked back to my desk.

Julie

About forty minutes later, I was back in Jeff's office.

"So Julie, how are you feeling?" Jeff started again.

I was tired, I didn't even have enough energy for sass, "I've been better."

Jeff closed my file and nodded, "You haven't had much time for detox. I'm sure your first couple of weeks are going to be a little rough. So let's talk about your file."

I took a deep breath and let it out, "what do you want to know that you haven't already found in that little file of yours?"

"Little? There was a bit to go through… prostitution, drugs. There was a strong possibility of you headed to jail instead of coming here…"

"I see bluntness isn't an issue with you," I cut him off.

"Well I would like to know why you ran away. I know that you spent some time in another facility a few years back. But that was a battle with an eating disorder. There were no drugs on your record then, no other red flags. You left there with letters from your doctors about you being happy and fully recovered. There were even follow ups that you went back to dancing."

"Ah, those were the days," I deflected.

"What happened?"

I shrugged, "I was thirteen. I was a dancer. It was just your run-of-the-mill eating disorder... meant to show your ballet teachers how serious you were about becoming a prima ballerina. I went back to dance but never picked up the eating disorder again."

"So your running away had nothing to do with your eating disorder?"

"Correct," I said. Facts. I was back to my method of giving only blunt facts.

"So is there anything you want to say about the last seven months?"

"You didn't read the police report? I thought they covered all the fun facts," I replied.

"Yup, you're right," Jeff said as he closed the file. Clearly he wasn't going to push the issue any further. I appreciated that.

"So, let's cover the basics then. First of all, this is a school. You will attend classes Monday through Friday; sometimes we have special classes or excursions on the weekends and you'll have some counseling sessions throughout the week and on the weekends as well. You're going to be in the Mountain Climbers group. There are five other members in your group at the moment. Some are about a year or so older than you. You only missed five months of school and you were in a lot of advanced classes, so I'm thinking this is the best fit academically.

"Secondly, please understand that counseling sessions are as important as class attendance. You're going to have solo sessions, group sessions, family sessions—and it all depends on what you're willing to put into this and where we feel you will make the most progress."

When I didn't say anything, Jeff continued, "Besides your classes, you are going to eat meals with your group members, hang out with them, and you are going to be living in a cabin with them."

"Co-ed dorming? Maybe this won't be so bad," I interjected.

"Not quite, you will be living with Michelle and Marie. A few girls graduated recently so the cabin is a little empty. Michelle sort of plays a housemother roll.

"Your cabin is modeled after a sleeping dorm or a cold dorm."

"What the heck is that?" I asked.

"I went to college in the south to play football. Cold dorms are popular down there with sorority houses and such. It's pretty much a way for them to house extra girls by having one large room set up where they all just sleep. The girls may have desks and closets in separate parts of the house, but they all sleep together in a large room."

"I'm picturing an orphanage," I grumbled. I knew I was being a brat, but I'd never shared a room with anyone before. My sister and I had always had our own bedrooms. And the last few months I was so messed up all the time that it barely registered there were other people around, so my roommates didn't count.

"Think of it more like practice for college then," Jeff rebutted, "We do keep them moderately cool and dark so that you're encouraged to spend time with your group in the common lounges, but you have bed lamps, a dresser, closet space. The girls will help you get oriented with all of that tonight.

"So now for the most important rules: there are no drugs, no drinking, no smoking, and no relationships. You're here to work on yourself and fix yourself and so is everyone else," Jeff added before I could interject again.

I rolled my eyes, "that takes the fun out of life," I mumbled.

"You could be in juvie right now, meeting your cellmate, so remember that this isn't punishment, this is rehabilitation," Jeff said with a serious tone.

"But I want you to know. We understand that things happen, slip-ups happen. Yes, there are repercussions, but screwing up is human. Punishments are always less severe if you come clean and tell us the truth. But then again, there are some limitations; you can't expect for all your messes to be cleaned up all the time. Ultimately, you are here for you, you are here to heal. Any questions?"

"Nope, I'm crystal," I said, stifling a yawn. My hands were shaking and I was getting nauseous. I wanted fresh air and a cigarette.

Luckily Jeff was done with his spiel. I signed some paperwork and he gave me an i.d. bracelet, "Dark blue," he explained, "is the Mountain Climber color."

"I would call this more of a royal blue," I quipped quietly as I held out my wrist for Jeff to put it on. There would be some notebooks and pens along with my books in the cabin. My bags had already been brought over, so all I had to do was make the short walk.

I entered the cabin that I would call home. It was the first place on the tour of campus. I was supposed to meet Michelle here to begin the tour, but I needed to rest.

"Hi! You're Julie?" a tall, stunning, dark-skinned girl greeted me. Michelle was putting some books away on a shelf. She turned to look at me and her eyes visibly widened before she trained her expression and smiled softly, "why don't you get settled and I'll go get you some water. I think you need a few minutes for yourself."

"Thanks," I said with a forced laugh of gratefulness, "Do I look as green as I feel?"

"I've been there, trust me. You're going to be sleeping over here," Michelle pointed to the bed she was standing at. She must have been setting up my books and notebooks for class.

"Thank you," I said, stopping at the foot of the bed, "the bathroom is through there?"

"Yup, I'll be back in a few," Michelle called over her shoulder as she left the cabin. Appreciation rushed over me again that Michelle understood I needed time to rally.

I took in my surroundings. As promised, the cabin was dark and cool. Although it was an empty strange place, I felt safer than I had in years. I felt a tug in my gut thinking how my sister was still trapped in that house. But she must be fine. She had to be fine.

I shook the thought off as I looked around at the two rows of beds facing each other, each with its own darkened window above. Once my eyes adjusted, I noticed that only two nightstands were occupied in the row across from me. I looked down towards the dimly lit bathroom and headed towards it.

JONATHAN

I turned to walk into the kitchen and nearly collided with Michelle who had a glass of ginger ale in one hand and water in the other.

"Sorry, Michelle!" I said backing away before I got splashed, "you thirsty?"

"Oh, no…" she looked at me a little sheepishly, "Julie, the uh, new girl…" Michelle trailed off. We were close and I could tell she didn't want to rat Julie out. However, I had also gone through a tough detox when I arrived so I understood without her having to say.

"She not doing so hot?" I asked quietly, looking around to make sure no one was listening.

"Yeah," Michelle admitted with a shrug, "she was just looking a little rough. I told her to lie down for a minute."

I remembered my first couple of weeks here. I remembered the pain and the nausea. I remembered the nights it was so bad that I wanted to die.

"Gotcha," I said, "I'm not jealous of that feeling. I'll see you later."

From the window, I watched Michelle walk back to the girls' cabin. Knowing she wouldn't turn back, I turned and walked towards the kitchen. I paused outside the walk-in pantry, took a quick look around, and slipped inside.

Marie was in the corner, sitting on an overturned milk crate, pretending to read a book. I knew she was pretending because she was posing atop that crate; lips pursed, book held lightly in one hand so that she could toss her hair back with the other. It was a practiced move I had seen often from her. When I walked in, she gave it a second before tossing her hair, closing the book with no note of the page and giving me a surprised expression that I was there.

I smiled back. I couldn't help it. She tried so hard. It was kind of cute, if not extremely desperate.

"Hey there," she said, trying to sound casual, but I'm sure she rehearsed that greeting as well.

"Hi Mare," I greeted her, hearing my accent come through as I abbreviated her name; reminding me briefly of the years I grew up in Boston.

She stood, pretending to stretch—unsure what to do. Most girls would have done that as a maneuver to make me ogle their body. Marie was far too self-conscious and awkward for that. I wondered how much interaction she had with the opposite sex in high school. Considering she was into… gymnastics, or cheerleading or whatever it was, I figured not a lot, at least not straight dudes.

I made it easy on her—I pulled her over to me and kissed her. I wasn't looking forward to the small talk that came with these little sessions anyway.

Wasn't I supposed to stop this?
I forced the thought from my mind and started paying attention to Marie. Her lips were small and soft; she was a decent enough kisser, but then again, most girls were. But this was really just to kill time. Then I thought about New Girl and did something uncharacteristic.

I pulled back from Marie to chat.

"I feel bad–" I started, not knowing where this conversation was headed. Marie just looked at me, small lips formed into a comical o, eyebrows raised in question.

"Julie," I started. I didn't know why I had started this. Talking to Marie was bad enough, but talking to her about this girl I didn't even know was probably not the nicest thing.

"Julie?" she prompted quietly.

"New Girl… the uh, new girl in our group. She's just not feeling well I guess. I just ran into Michelle before I came in here."

"Oh… okay, that's… too bad?" Marie said, confusion etching her face. There was something else in her expression too that I couldn't put my finger on.

"I don't know why I just brought that up," I said, taking her hand and guiding her to sit down next to me. I felt bad for a different reason now. She always wanted to talk, wanting to build some type of bond with me, but the first time I initiated conversation it had to do with another girl entirely.

"I guess I just know what that feels like," I admitted, more for myself than for Marie. I turned to her once more and gave her a small grin, "you look really pretty."

That did the trick. A smile broke out across her face before she could stop it, as she dropped her eyes to the ground. I nudged her chin up with my finger and leaned in to kiss her again. The word harmless flashed across my mind but I let it drift by as I moved my lips against hers.

Julie

I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. Although the bruising had healed, I still had dark circles under my eyes. My complexion had a grey tinge to it. My hair looked stringy. I went back to my duffel bag in search of a comb. The moment I bent over I tasted stomach acid in my mouth.

I ran back to the bathroom but only made it as far as the threshold before throwing up in my hands. I hurried over to a toilet as the purge continued. It wasn't long before I was dry heaving into the water with nothing left in my system. All the nerves in my body were screaming for a release. I was shaking and sweating, silent tears falling down my cheeks. That's when Michelle walked back in.

Michelle slid the water next to me. I hadn't heard her enter over the white noise of the overhead fan, but seeing the water glass emerge from the corner of my eye startled me though my body hardly reacted. My mind and my body were two separate entities. I saw my hand reaching for the water. My mind told me not to; I knew that taking a sip of that water would trigger the vomiting all over again. I felt the icy cold liquid sliding down my throat.