bathroom cabinet.”
“I did not!”
“Did, too. I just wanna know why.”
I shivered under my blankets. “Why what?”
“Why you took the damned pills?” He balled his fists, his knuckles showing blood-red tattooed symbols. “I just don’t get it. You got everything, so why try to check out?”
Good question, I thought, and wished I knew the answer. Why would Leah throw her perfect life away? Well she could have it back. Wealth, beauty, and popularity sounded cool in theory, but I’d rather return to my own imperfect body.
“I already know more than you think I do, so there’s no reason to lie.” He clutched the knife in his fist, glaring harder. “Why take the pills?”
“I didn’t.”
“Stop freakin’ lying.”
“I—I’m not.”
“Is this about Chad? ’Cause he cheated on you?”
“Chad?” I tried to place the familiar name.
“Your boyfriend,” he said sarcastically. “Okay, act dumb and don’t tell me anything. I’m used to being ignored. No one gives a crap about me. I should thank you, I guess, ’cause you’ve screwed up more than me now. Dad’s so pissed at you, he’s eased up on me. I should have been the one taking pills, the way Dad’s always on my case. You can do anything you want, and they give you everything. I get crap.”
“S-sorry.”
“Like you care,” he snarled. “Save it for Mom or Dad or your posse of dumb girls.” Then he jumped up and strode out of the room, nearly bumping into a tall, dark-blond man in a tailored suit with dark gray tie.
I looked up at him, questioning. “Dad?” I guessed.
But I was very wrong.
“Do I represent a father figure to you?” the man asked, pulling up a yellow plastic chair. He flipped open a notepad and jotted something down. “Typically patients refer to me as Dr. Hodges. I’m intrigued you called me ‘Dad,’ as I bear no resemblance to your father.”
Oops. Calling a shrink “Dad” was a bad move.
But when he’d walked into my room, carrying a briefcase and looking like an important businessman, I’d assumed he was Leah’s father. I’d already met her mother and her brother, so “Dad” was the next logical visitor. Dr. Hodges didn’t even look like a shrink. No beard or dignified glasses; instead, he had acne scars and large ears that poked out from thinning brown hair. Kind of like a grown-up nerd.
“Let’s just talk about anything on your mind.” He bit the end of his pen and tilted his head expectantly, clearly waiting for me to say something fascinating.
“Um …” I blinked. “My memory is fuzzy.”
“That’s perfectly understandable.”
“Do I know you?”
“Do you think you should know me?”
“Yes … I mean, no … I don’t know.” My head started to ache and I leaned wearily against my pillows.
He leaned forward, his pen sticking up between his fingers. “You’re making remarkable physical progress.”
“I don’t feel—” I paused to swallow “—remarkable.”
“It takes time to recover, but I can assure you your prognosis is highly encouraging. You’re going to be just fine.”
I shook my head, despair washing over me. How could I ever be fine again?
“Don’t think of me as your doctor, consider me your friend.” Dr. Hodges leaned forward, his tone intimate like we were best friends. “How are you feeling?”
“My throat … hurts.”
“Then by all means, let me offer you some water.” He reached for the pitcher on my table and poured a cup.
I accepted the cup, soothed by the cool liquid. “Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome. I’m here to help you.”
“Really?” I bit my lip and blinked back tears. Since I’d woken up, almost everyone had treated me with accusations and hostility. I desperately needed someone who cared enough to listen.
“I’ll do everything in my power to help you through this,” he said kindly. “I know it won’t be easy, but trusting me is your first step to recovery. It’s natural to experience initial
“I did not!”
“Did, too. I just wanna know why.”
I shivered under my blankets. “Why what?”
“Why you took the damned pills?” He balled his fists, his knuckles showing blood-red tattooed symbols. “I just don’t get it. You got everything, so why try to check out?”
Good question, I thought, and wished I knew the answer. Why would Leah throw her perfect life away? Well she could have it back. Wealth, beauty, and popularity sounded cool in theory, but I’d rather return to my own imperfect body.
“I already know more than you think I do, so there’s no reason to lie.” He clutched the knife in his fist, glaring harder. “Why take the pills?”
“I didn’t.”
“Stop freakin’ lying.”
“I—I’m not.”
“Is this about Chad? ’Cause he cheated on you?”
“Chad?” I tried to place the familiar name.
“Your boyfriend,” he said sarcastically. “Okay, act dumb and don’t tell me anything. I’m used to being ignored. No one gives a crap about me. I should thank you, I guess, ’cause you’ve screwed up more than me now. Dad’s so pissed at you, he’s eased up on me. I should have been the one taking pills, the way Dad’s always on my case. You can do anything you want, and they give you everything. I get crap.”
“S-sorry.”
“Like you care,” he snarled. “Save it for Mom or Dad or your posse of dumb girls.” Then he jumped up and strode out of the room, nearly bumping into a tall, dark-blond man in a tailored suit with dark gray tie.
I looked up at him, questioning. “Dad?” I guessed.
But I was very wrong.
“Do I represent a father figure to you?” the man asked, pulling up a yellow plastic chair. He flipped open a notepad and jotted something down. “Typically patients refer to me as Dr. Hodges. I’m intrigued you called me ‘Dad,’ as I bear no resemblance to your father.”
Oops. Calling a shrink “Dad” was a bad move.
But when he’d walked into my room, carrying a briefcase and looking like an important businessman, I’d assumed he was Leah’s father. I’d already met her mother and her brother, so “Dad” was the next logical visitor. Dr. Hodges didn’t even look like a shrink. No beard or dignified glasses; instead, he had acne scars and large ears that poked out from thinning brown hair. Kind of like a grown-up nerd.
“Let’s just talk about anything on your mind.” He bit the end of his pen and tilted his head expectantly, clearly waiting for me to say something fascinating.
“Um …” I blinked. “My memory is fuzzy.”
“That’s perfectly understandable.”
“Do I know you?”
“Do you think you should know me?”
“Yes … I mean, no … I don’t know.” My head started to ache and I leaned wearily against my pillows.
He leaned forward, his pen sticking up between his fingers. “You’re making remarkable physical progress.”
“I don’t feel—” I paused to swallow “—remarkable.”
“It takes time to recover, but I can assure you your prognosis is highly encouraging. You’re going to be just fine.”
I shook my head, despair washing over me. How could I ever be fine again?
“Don’t think of me as your doctor, consider me your friend.” Dr. Hodges leaned forward, his tone intimate like we were best friends. “How are you feeling?”
“My throat … hurts.”
“Then by all means, let me offer you some water.” He reached for the pitcher on my table and poured a cup.
I accepted the cup, soothed by the cool liquid. “Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome. I’m here to help you.”
“Really?” I bit my lip and blinked back tears. Since I’d woken up, almost everyone had treated me with accusations and hostility. I desperately needed someone who cared enough to listen.
“I’ll do everything in my power to help you through this,” he said kindly. “I know it won’t be easy, but trusting me is your first step to recovery. It’s natural to experience initial
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