wrist, and my pulse beat against her hand. She said, “I’m still—”
Her touch had glued my tongue to the roof of my mouth, but I wrenched it free and croaked, “Still what?”
“I’m still your friend. God, Ryan, it’s only been a week! Do you think I’m going to forget you and what it’s like in here? Do you think I want to forget?”
“Why would you want to remember?”
“Because it’s part of me. Because I love you and Jake.”
I shook my head. It didn’t matter if it was a week or an hour: she’d crossed that line. She was out there now, in the regular world, and I was stuck here, still sick.
“Why do you think I came back here today?”
“Charity?”
She pressed her lips together until they almost disappeared. “Why are you being such an ass? Charity , really? Come on.”
“You’re out there and I’m not.” Her fingers burned my wrist while I tried to make her understand. I couldn’t see why she didn’t get it, unless she didn’t want to get it. “You’re having a life.” Now she was spending all day around real guys, guys who were not mental patients, who didn’t obsess about killing themselves, who had never embarrassed themselves in Group.
“Stop acting like I’m up on some pedestal. Anyway, you’re going to be out soon yourself. Don’t you know that?”
I snickered.
“I’m serious, Ryan. You went from hiding under your bed to helping some of the new kids. You and Jake used to go on and on about dying, and now you talk about catching up in school. You used to walk around like a zombie, off in your own little world. Now, most of the time, you manage to stay here with the rest of us.” Her fingers tightened. “Even though you’ve been acting like a jerk all night, you’re still here. I could tell you were angry. So you’re angry; at least you’re something. You’re not nothing anymore.”
She let go and I had the wild urge to grab her back, to hang on to her as if she could keep me alive. But I didn’t. I let her go, and when she called me two days later, I was able to tell her that she was right. They were getting ready to let me out, too.
• • • • •
The truth was that when she touched me, it stirred something that had been dead in me for months. The whole idea of girls and sex had burned out, gone to ashes, drifted under layers of black sludge. I’d stopped daydreaming about that or hoping for it or even remembering it existed. I’d forgotten what it was like to want that, forgotten how it felt to trace a girl’s body with my eyes and want to trace it with my hands. I’d been numb until Val’s fingers on the thin skin of my wrist reminded me of that heat, jolted me back into that hunger.
SIX
Nicki wanted to go to the waterfall as soon as we got back from Seaton. I hadn’t thought about what a hike it was from her house, a much longer way than from mine, and all uphill. We were both panting when we reached the pool. Some little kids were plunking rocks in the water, but they ran away when they saw us coming.
I stripped off my T-shirt. Nicki pulled off hers, too, dropped it on the bank, and plunged into the water. I watched her for a minute, her bra dark blue against the paleness of her back, until she disappeared under the curtain of water. I didn’t know what she meant by tearing off her shirt in front of me: that she didn’t care if I saw her that way, because I was nobody? Or that she was so upset by what had happened with Andrea that she didn’t know what she was doing?
She came out a minute later, gasping, water streaming from her hair. “Did you see this place last spring?” she said. “The water would knock you over, if you were stupid enough to stand under it.”
I already knew this, because I had been stupid enough.
Without answering, I waded in and ducked under the fall, willing it to wash away the china figurines, the bland smile, the rattling air conditioner, and every trace of the great failure of Psychic Andrea. The
Her touch had glued my tongue to the roof of my mouth, but I wrenched it free and croaked, “Still what?”
“I’m still your friend. God, Ryan, it’s only been a week! Do you think I’m going to forget you and what it’s like in here? Do you think I want to forget?”
“Why would you want to remember?”
“Because it’s part of me. Because I love you and Jake.”
I shook my head. It didn’t matter if it was a week or an hour: she’d crossed that line. She was out there now, in the regular world, and I was stuck here, still sick.
“Why do you think I came back here today?”
“Charity?”
She pressed her lips together until they almost disappeared. “Why are you being such an ass? Charity , really? Come on.”
“You’re out there and I’m not.” Her fingers burned my wrist while I tried to make her understand. I couldn’t see why she didn’t get it, unless she didn’t want to get it. “You’re having a life.” Now she was spending all day around real guys, guys who were not mental patients, who didn’t obsess about killing themselves, who had never embarrassed themselves in Group.
“Stop acting like I’m up on some pedestal. Anyway, you’re going to be out soon yourself. Don’t you know that?”
I snickered.
“I’m serious, Ryan. You went from hiding under your bed to helping some of the new kids. You and Jake used to go on and on about dying, and now you talk about catching up in school. You used to walk around like a zombie, off in your own little world. Now, most of the time, you manage to stay here with the rest of us.” Her fingers tightened. “Even though you’ve been acting like a jerk all night, you’re still here. I could tell you were angry. So you’re angry; at least you’re something. You’re not nothing anymore.”
She let go and I had the wild urge to grab her back, to hang on to her as if she could keep me alive. But I didn’t. I let her go, and when she called me two days later, I was able to tell her that she was right. They were getting ready to let me out, too.
• • • • •
The truth was that when she touched me, it stirred something that had been dead in me for months. The whole idea of girls and sex had burned out, gone to ashes, drifted under layers of black sludge. I’d stopped daydreaming about that or hoping for it or even remembering it existed. I’d forgotten what it was like to want that, forgotten how it felt to trace a girl’s body with my eyes and want to trace it with my hands. I’d been numb until Val’s fingers on the thin skin of my wrist reminded me of that heat, jolted me back into that hunger.
SIX
Nicki wanted to go to the waterfall as soon as we got back from Seaton. I hadn’t thought about what a hike it was from her house, a much longer way than from mine, and all uphill. We were both panting when we reached the pool. Some little kids were plunking rocks in the water, but they ran away when they saw us coming.
I stripped off my T-shirt. Nicki pulled off hers, too, dropped it on the bank, and plunged into the water. I watched her for a minute, her bra dark blue against the paleness of her back, until she disappeared under the curtain of water. I didn’t know what she meant by tearing off her shirt in front of me: that she didn’t care if I saw her that way, because I was nobody? Or that she was so upset by what had happened with Andrea that she didn’t know what she was doing?
She came out a minute later, gasping, water streaming from her hair. “Did you see this place last spring?” she said. “The water would knock you over, if you were stupid enough to stand under it.”
I already knew this, because I had been stupid enough.
Without answering, I waded in and ducked under the fall, willing it to wash away the china figurines, the bland smile, the rattling air conditioner, and every trace of the great failure of Psychic Andrea. The
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