Impulse by Ellen Hopkins Page A
Authors: Ellen Hopkins
Tags: Fiction, General, Family, Juvenile Fiction, Psychology, Suicide, Social Issues, Interpersonal relations, Psychiatric hospitals, Friendship, Parents, Values & Virtues, Mental Illness, Self-Esteem & Self-Reliance, Diseases, Health & Daily Living, Depression & Mental Illness, Novels in Verse, Illnesses & Injuries
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hair?
"Shee-it! I wouldn't touch that greasy gray hair with Stanley's fingers."
Good point. And speaking of Stanley, what ' s his story? Can ' t be meth, that c for sure.
"Definitely not crystal. Rumor has it he tried to kill his little brother."
180
Conner's smile vanishes.
No shit? They let total nutcases in here, huh?
"Enough money can buy a total free ride. His parents were just a little short." More likely they wanted him locked up somewhere. Just not behind real bars. 176
181
An Excellent Observation
One I consider as I give my plate to the girls working kitchen duty. No, there aren't always girls in there--this just happens to be their week to play Martha Stewart.
One thing I'll say, chauvinistic or not, the girls are much better cooks. As far as dish washing, I can't see that gender makes a difference.
The dining room buzzes with after-dinner activity. The goon squad stands by, making sure everyone heads in the right direction-- rec room or bedroom,
182
depending on what level they've achieved. Dr. Starr awarded me Level Two, so I get my choice. This is a favorite time for a little male-female
interaction, and Conner takes total advantage, moving in on Vanessa before Kate or Paul can get the chance to move in on him,
As they wander toward the door, he whispers something in her ear. I'm not close enough to hear, but I'm close enough to notice her blush. 178
183
Credit Where It's Due
I've got to hand it to Conner. He walked into a room that hovered on the brink of chaos, and the simple weight of his entrance seemed to put everything right.
Tony didn't hit Stanley, didn't wind up in isolation. Stanley left the room in what would have been a state of shame for anyone who could feel ashamed. I think he mostly felt lucky to have survived the incident with only the slightest hint of a bruise on either cheek.
Then Conner had the nerve to go sit with Tony, who was stewing alone at the back of the room. 179
184
He even joked him into smiling, something I couldn't do. Now, as we get ready to go back to our rooms, close ourselves in, fall into our lonely vigils, he comes to me, touches the small of my back.
Then he whispers, I just want you to know you light up this dingy room.
Yeah, I know it's a line. But it makes my face heat up--and something else, too-- in a very good way. 180
185
Play It Cool
As if boys say stuff like that to me all the time--no big deal, right? I whisper back a plain-
Jane, "Thank you" but don't dare turn around, show him how red my face has grown, a clear indication that I am not used to such compliments.
I think the best thing Trevor
ever said to me was, You ' re pretty cute, with your clothes off
Clothes off is actually the worst view of me, a few too many pounds of flab, in all the wrong places (i.e., my thighs, but not my breasts). Of course, Grandma says I'm just right, a perfect size seven. Size three would be preferable. 181
186
Still, I feel almost desirable, with Conner's breath against my neck, his voice like a warm wind in my ear.
At the very least, he's pulled
me way up out of the blue, into a new bloom of white.
Two swings in one day.
Something is majorly going on.
187
The Refuge of My Room
I almost decide sleeplessness is better than the monster, come knocking at the little door smack in the middle of my forehead, begging for a teaspoon of Prozac. I know what I have to do but don't quite know how to do it. They check my stitches, make sure they're not infected. Or messed with.
Wouldn ' t want to come in and find your hand hanging by threads again, the nurse
told me once.
I don't want that either. But I do need release. I've saved my "secret weapon" for a night like tonight, when nothing else will suffice. 183
188
I borrowed it from Dr. Bellows's
desk one day, when his attention
turned to a ring of his cell phone, stashed in his briefcase on the floor.
The paper clip sat in plain sight, almost an invitation.
I retrieve it from my hiding place,
"Shee-it! I wouldn't touch that greasy gray hair with Stanley's fingers."
Good point. And speaking of Stanley, what ' s his story? Can ' t be meth, that c for sure.
"Definitely not crystal. Rumor has it he tried to kill his little brother."
180
Conner's smile vanishes.
No shit? They let total nutcases in here, huh?
"Enough money can buy a total free ride. His parents were just a little short." More likely they wanted him locked up somewhere. Just not behind real bars. 176
181
An Excellent Observation
One I consider as I give my plate to the girls working kitchen duty. No, there aren't always girls in there--this just happens to be their week to play Martha Stewart.
One thing I'll say, chauvinistic or not, the girls are much better cooks. As far as dish washing, I can't see that gender makes a difference.
The dining room buzzes with after-dinner activity. The goon squad stands by, making sure everyone heads in the right direction-- rec room or bedroom,
182
depending on what level they've achieved. Dr. Starr awarded me Level Two, so I get my choice. This is a favorite time for a little male-female
interaction, and Conner takes total advantage, moving in on Vanessa before Kate or Paul can get the chance to move in on him,
As they wander toward the door, he whispers something in her ear. I'm not close enough to hear, but I'm close enough to notice her blush. 178
183
Credit Where It's Due
I've got to hand it to Conner. He walked into a room that hovered on the brink of chaos, and the simple weight of his entrance seemed to put everything right.
Tony didn't hit Stanley, didn't wind up in isolation. Stanley left the room in what would have been a state of shame for anyone who could feel ashamed. I think he mostly felt lucky to have survived the incident with only the slightest hint of a bruise on either cheek.
Then Conner had the nerve to go sit with Tony, who was stewing alone at the back of the room. 179
184
He even joked him into smiling, something I couldn't do. Now, as we get ready to go back to our rooms, close ourselves in, fall into our lonely vigils, he comes to me, touches the small of my back.
Then he whispers, I just want you to know you light up this dingy room.
Yeah, I know it's a line. But it makes my face heat up--and something else, too-- in a very good way. 180
185
Play It Cool
As if boys say stuff like that to me all the time--no big deal, right? I whisper back a plain-
Jane, "Thank you" but don't dare turn around, show him how red my face has grown, a clear indication that I am not used to such compliments.
I think the best thing Trevor
ever said to me was, You ' re pretty cute, with your clothes off
Clothes off is actually the worst view of me, a few too many pounds of flab, in all the wrong places (i.e., my thighs, but not my breasts). Of course, Grandma says I'm just right, a perfect size seven. Size three would be preferable. 181
186
Still, I feel almost desirable, with Conner's breath against my neck, his voice like a warm wind in my ear.
At the very least, he's pulled
me way up out of the blue, into a new bloom of white.
Two swings in one day.
Something is majorly going on.
187
The Refuge of My Room
I almost decide sleeplessness is better than the monster, come knocking at the little door smack in the middle of my forehead, begging for a teaspoon of Prozac. I know what I have to do but don't quite know how to do it. They check my stitches, make sure they're not infected. Or messed with.
Wouldn ' t want to come in and find your hand hanging by threads again, the nurse
told me once.
I don't want that either. But I do need release. I've saved my "secret weapon" for a night like tonight, when nothing else will suffice. 183
188
I borrowed it from Dr. Bellows's
desk one day, when his attention
turned to a ring of his cell phone, stashed in his briefcase on the floor.
The paper clip sat in plain sight, almost an invitation.
I retrieve it from my hiding place,
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