She’s crying, her face red, and I think she might break. Snap in two as she reaches out when she sees us. “Tell them! Tell them I’m doing better! Tell them I just wanted to stay! I only threw up so they would think I wasn’t ready to go home. So they would let me stay!”
And that’s why even though she’d been better for a while, she recently struggled with eating again. It was part of her plan.
“Please, Daddy. Don’t take me. Please. I won’t do it again. I’m not sick. I’m better. I need them. Please don’t make me go.”
Her words are only broken up by her tears. Neither of her parents is crying. Her mom is holding the door open. Her dad is pulling her toward it.
Mrs. Spencer starts, “Mr. and Mrs. Johnson—” but is immediately cut off by Beth’s dad.
“We’re taking our daughter. You’ve done enough—or actually, nothing. You’ve made her worse.” He looks down at Beth. “Stop acting like this. You’re causing a scene. Let’s go. We’re going to take you to another facility that can help you better.”
Bethany’s eyes go wide. Casey’s crying. They’re taking her away from us and not even bringing her home.
“No! Fuck that! She belongs here!” I step forward, but scarred arms wrap around me, hold me.
“Don’t. They won’t let her stay. You’ll get in trouble.”
“I don’t care,” I tell Stray.
“Please,” Rosie says. It’s the softest, the most broken, I’ve ever heard her sound.
I try to pull away from Stray again, but he doesn’t let go.
Bethany goes limp, stops fighting, watches us as her father pulls her out the door. Away. Gone. All I can think about is the fact that we didn’t exchange phone numbers or anything. We talked about it, but didn’t make the time and now we don’t have it.
“She vomited again,” Mrs. Spencer says. “A student heard her and turned her in. I have to call her parents when something like that happens. It was their decision where to take it from there.”
This time, it’s her I lunge for, but Stray’s still holding me back. The glass in the trophy case is shattering. I’m that guy again, and I just want to destroy anything in my path. “You didn’t have to tell! She just wanted to stay. They don’t love her, and she just wanted to stay! I let her down. You made me let her down!” rips out of my throat.
Rosie runs away.
Casey’s sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth.
“You didn’t let her down, Hunter. Is that how you feel?” she asks.
I shake my head, pull away from Stray. “Don’t do that. Don’t try to turn the tables on me.” From Mrs. Spencer I turn to Stray. “You shouldn’t have held me back! We should have fought for her! Maybe you don’t know that since you don’t have a family, but that’s what you’re supposed to do when you love someone!”
Then just like Rosie, I’m gone. Running away.
We lost Bethany; I lost her and I don’t know how to deal with that.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
THERE’S NOWHERE to go.
There’s this urge inside me, this need to turn around, to go back to Stray and to find Rosie and Casey and hear them tell me it’s going to be okay. That we didn’t let Bethany down and make me believe it’s not our fault. Find a way to show me that this is somehow better for her.
Still, I don’t go for my friends. After what I said to Stray, I don’t deserve to.
There’s this pull inside me, the scared kid in the dark who’s looking for the light, that wants to go to the stables. Stray will be there. I can tell him I’m sorry I’m such a douchebag, and he can tell me Bethany will be okay. And then we can kiss because kissing is so much better than feeling all this other crap that just won’t go away. The weight disappears for a while, and then it comes back, always comes back, and I’m so freaking over it.
It doesn’t take long before Mrs. Spencer finds me. I’m planted in the same spot where I found Casey weeks ago, when Brock and Abraham were giving him crap.
“The student who witnessed what Bethany did was only worried about her,” Mrs. Spencer says, but I ignore her. “I think it’s important that we talk.”
“I don’t want to talk. I’m tired of talking.”
My stomach jumps in surprise when she sits on the ground next to me. “But do you ever really talk? Some, but not enough. You do what you have to do to get by. That’s about all. Aren’t you ready to do more than get by?”
Her words keep banging on my skull, like they’re trying to get in, break through if they have to, but I’m not sure how to let them. “How? How do I do that? I’m making the same mistakes over and over.” Letting down the people I care about. I don’t care who says it’s not my fault. You’re supposed to fight for people you care about, and listen to them. I never listen. When Holly showed me signs, I ignored them, the same as I did with Bethany. “She was my friend.” When my eyes feel scratchy, I close them and think of Bethany and everything else that’s happened.
For just a split second, I tense when Mrs. Spencer’s hand comes down on my shoulder… and then I’m glad it’s there. Need it there. I wish I hadn’t run away from my friends so maybe their hands could be there as well.
“She’s still your friend. You love her. That’s what counts. I’ve talked to some of your friends. One of them said this feels like the beginning of the end… that you’re all going to get separated and everyone is going to go away. Is that how you feel, Hunter?”
“Who?” My eyes snap toward hers.
“It’s not my place to say.”
But she’s right. I do feel that way.
“This place, it isn’t forever. I’m glad you’ve found friends here, and I hope you’re able to stay friends afterward, but it doesn’t always happen that way. You can’t exist at Better Days forever. The point is to come here and get tools to move on, to learn how to live a healthy lifestyle out there. It wasn’t the way we wanted it to happen, but Bethany had to move on. Eventually, you all will.”
Her words make me shake. When I first got here, there was nothing I wanted more than to leave. In some ways it’s still what I want, but I don’t want to lose them either. It won’t happen. She’s wrong about that. “Whatever.” Pulling away from her, I stand up. “It doesn’t have to work that way. You don’t have to lose people you care about.”
I feel heavy, almost full, as I walk away from Mrs. Spencer as fast as I can. Why do they insist on saying shit no one wants to hear? It doesn’t help. They’re supposed to be here to help, but all they do is make everything worse.
None of us are any better than we were when we got here.
Those words keep swimming around in my head, making me more and more angry as I go. It’s like there’s this ball in my chest that just keeps rolling around, and as it does it gets bigger and bigger, making me more and more frustrated.
It’s not until I get to the hallway of the boys’ dorms that the last voice I want to hear pulls me out of my thoughts. “That’s too bad about your friend, Hunter. She was a hottie… a little skinny for my taste, and we all know she’s not the type to get you hard, but—umpf! What the fuck, man?” Brock grabs for me when I shove him against the wall, leaning all my weight into him. My forearm pushes hard into his chest, holding him down.
“What the hell? Let go of me. Fucking let go of me now.” His eyes go a little frantic—wide saucers darting around. He’s clawing at me, grabbing for me and trying to push me off of him at the same time. I remember what I heard about him getting jumped into a gang and wonder if he’s flashing back there the way I’ve flashed back to my past.
The urge is there to hit him, to show him I won’t take his crap. That he can’t treat people the way he does. That he doesn’t have a right to say anything about Bethany, or Stray.
“Let me go!” But now he’s holding on to me instead of pushing me away. There’s a change in him, a switch I hit, and it suddenly looks like there’s fear in his eyes.
“Brock.” Abraham laughs as he walks down the
hallway. “You’re gonna get your ass beat by him?” A few of their other friends are with him, their expressions a mixture of shock and laughter, like they didn’t expect me to get the best of him. They’re not laughing at me. They’re laughing at him. It turns Brock back into the guy he usually is, and he catches me off guard, shoving me away.
“Stay the fuck off of me, you little faggot.” There’s nothing but hate in his eyes now, dark and pissed off.
Before I get the chance to say anything back, John, one of the therapists, is there. “Is everything okay, guys?”
I wait for it then, heart in my throat. He’s going to rat me out, and then what will happen? Will I have to leave the way Beth did?
“Nothing.” Brock shrugs. “Everything’s cool. We’re cool, aren’t we, Hunter?”
No, we’re really not, but I still nod. Rosie’s words from earlier hit me—that people don’t tell on each other here. It’s almost like rules on the streets, whatever they are.
Brock and his friends walk away. John stares at me. He knows something was up, but then the door opens. Stray’s door.
Without a word to any of them, I disappear into Stray’s room, and head straight for the bathroom.
My gut churns. Vomit is right there, clawing at my stomach lining.
My eyes land on the mirror, on me, wide like Brock’s were. My chest heaves in and out. My mouth stretched into a tight line, my jaw locked… and I hate the person I see. I’d wondered if Brock were flashing back, yet I hadn’t stepped off.
I’m again the guy who lost it at the school, the one who doesn’t talk to his sister. I’m the Hunter who was a jerk to Casey the first day, the one I haven’t seen, and didn’t realize he was really gone until this second.
The guy I’m tired of being.
“I’m sorry,” I tell Stray. My throat gets tighter and tighter, but I can’t stop speaking… “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” And somehow, he’s not the only invisible person I’m apologizing to. It’s Stray and Bethany and Holly and Mom… maybe even me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
IT’S LATE and I can’t sleep. I’ve been tossing and turning for hours before I head into the bathroom and close the door. There’s not even a second thought in my mind as I tap on the wall, wondering if Stray is there. He replies almost instantly. I knock back, and then he does as well, before I roll over and lie on my side, somehow knowing he’s doing the same thing.
Being there for people is who he is. I told Stray earlier he might not know what to do with people he cares about since he doesn’t have family, but he knows better than me. He didn’t believe me when I told him that, but it’s true. He’s always there when people need him.
I’ll likely be woken up during a room check and told to go to bed, but knowing Stray is there is what makes it easier for me to close my eyes, to get some sleep before tomorrow. Before I try to find it in myself to make it through a family therapy session with Mom and Holly.
IT’S LIKE I insta-freeze the second I walk through the door. Like I’m in a cartoon or a comic book, and something I can’t see turns me to stone.
Mom is there, her dark eyes looking sadder than usual. Her smile is there too, though it’s not totally real. Her black hair is falling out of her ponytail as she stands.
Holly isn’t here.
Disappointment I never thought I would feel wraps a fist around my throat, trying to squeeze the air out of me.
My sister didn’t come. She didn’t want to see me.
“Oh, it’s so good to see you, mijo. I missed you so much.” Mom walks over to me, wrapping her arms around me. I don’t move, even though all I want to do is breathe her in and go back to a time when our lives were normal.
“Where’s Holly?”
Mom frowns at me, tries to smile, and then ruffles my hair. It used to drive me crazy. I’d jerk away and tell her to stop treating me like a kid. Now, part of me thinks it would be better to go back to being a child.
“She’s with your Uncle Ricardo. They asked if they could take her out to lunch today.”
When Mom was coming here, they knew she would be coming, yet Holly went to Ricardo’s.
“Whatever.” I step back.
“Hunter, Mrs. Donovan, would you guys like to have a seat?” Dr. Harrison asks.
No, I really fucking wouldn’t. I’d like to walk out of here. What’s the point? Forget the fact that I didn’t want to do this. I came. Holly didn’t want to see me. That says something right there.
Still, I follow Mom over and sit in a chair beside her. Dr. Harrison jumps right in. “Are you disappointed your sister isn’t here?” she asks.
“Ya think?” What a stupid question. I’m tired of her stupid questions.
“So, you wanted to participate in family therapy with your mom and Holly today?”
Without looking at her, I cross my arms. “That’s not the point. I’m here, and she’s not.” Because she blames me too. She knows I should have helped her.
“No, I don’t think it is. You have to remember there are reasons for everything. You love your sister very much. We all know that, but I also know that you won’t talk to her when your mom offers you the opportunity, and that you weren’t very happy about this session today. You have your reasons, but none of those are that you don’t love your sister, just like her reason isn’t that she doesn’t love you.”
She loves me. I know she does, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t blame me. She would be here if she didn’t. My words are gone, like they’re all used up. I didn’t expect this. Didn’t realize how much I needed Holly until she didn’t come.
“Holly loves you very much, Hunter. You know that. She’s just trying to deal the best way she can.”
“Why?” sneaks past my lips. “Why isn’t she here?” Does she think it’s my fault too? Is she mad at me?
“Probably the same reason you won’t talk to her.”
My body turns to stone again. She does blame me.
“She doesn’t know how to deal. She misses you, but you won’t talk to her, and I think that might hurt her. I—”
“I’m not trying to hurt her! I’m trying to protect her!” I yell.
My mom flinches, but recovers quickly. “From what, Hunter? From you? She doesn’t need to be protected from you. Your father is gone. You don’t need to protect her. You just need to show her you love her. That’s all she needs, mijo. She only needs her brother back.”
But I don’t know how to go back, don’t know how to pretend nothing happened and be the same guy I was before.
“Why didn’t you want us to come?” Mom asks. “Why can’t you speak to her? What do we need to do to help you get through this?”
“There’s nothing for me to get through.” That’s the worst part. This isn’t something that happened to me. I don’t deserve to feel this way… but I do.
“Yes, there is. Just like there’s something for me and Holly to get through.” Mom’s hand shakes when she pushes a lock of hair behind her ear. “You have to tell me how you feel if I’m going to be able to give you what you need.”
Then she wipes her eyes. I hate it when Mom cries. It makes me want to protect her, to defend her, because she’s my mom and she would want to protect me.
“Hunter.” Mom slips out of the chair and kneels in front of me. She holds my face between her hands. “I love you so, so much. Holly loves you too. We’re a family. The only way we can get through this is if we work together. We’re a team, the three of us. We need you on this team with us. We can’t win without you.”
For the first time in I can’t remember how long, I’m the one who pulls Mom to me. I’m the one who hugs her and holds her. When she cries I pet her head the way she used to do to me.
“I’m trying,” I tell her. “I’m working on it. I want to win.”
“We will, sweet boy. As long as we stick together, we will.”
Suddenly, I’m old Hunter again. Young Hunter, who believes it will all be okay. Who thinks his m
om knows everything and if she says something, it must be true.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CASEY SEEMS to have found a new light. It’s as though he feels alive again, like he’s okay after seeing his parents. He introduced us all to them—his dad’s tall like he is, with the same short afro, and his mom has her hair in braids. They’re nice, and you can see how much they worry about their son, how close they all are.
In a lot of ways, Casey’s family reminds me of my own.
Stray’s foster parents came. They met at the same time I met with my mom. He didn’t introduce anyone to them, though, and he won’t talk about it. No matter what happened, I think he just can’t let himself believe they might really care.
Rosie’s session with her parents is later than the rest of ours. She’s just as animated and crazy as always before they show up, but it doesn’t seem real, it’s forced. For the first time, I feel like Rosie is an actor in a play, trying to nail her part.
“I don’t even know why they’re coming. It’s not like any of us care.” She rolls her eyes when two older Mexican people come in. Her mom’s wearing a dress with flowers and her dad brown slacks and a button-up shirt.
They hold each other’s hands as Rosie’s psychiatrist and worker talk to them.
“They look nice,” I tell her, but she doesn’t reply, just keeps sitting on the ground beside us. We’re all lined up against the wall, Rosie between Stray and me.
“You got this, Rosie.” Stray squeezes her hand.
“I’m fine,” she says and then walks away.
We don’t talk much as we wait for her to have her session. It’s the shortest of them all. It’s hardly twenty minutes later before Rosie walks out with her parents.
“Come meet my friends!” She does this excited jump/clap thing as her parents frown. Still, they follow her over as I scramble to my feet. Dude. For some reason, I totally don’t want to meet Rosie’s parents.