by Holly Hood
“That goes for just about anything in life,” said Elle. “Well, aren’t you going to tell me about you?”
“What’s there to say? You’ve heard most of my issues during group,” Sadie said. “I’ve been having a hard time over the last few years.”
Elle plucked a strand from her comforter watching it fall lazily to the floor.
“Sometimes I sit and wonder how many of us will die,” Sadie said. She drew her legs to her chest and stared at her reflection in the mirror. “Like Hart. Or Cadence.”
Elle tilted her head. “What do you mean like Hart?” She knew almost zero about Hart. He stayed close to the vest in the same manner that she did. “He seems to have his shit together more than anybody else here.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” Sadie said. “Just like you my dear.”
Elle made a face. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’re a lot tougher than I pegged you for.” She studied Elle as she moved around her bed throwing the journal in her drawer, quickly she slammed it shut.
“I didn’t mean anything by it. Are you upset?”
Elle tugged the covers down and crawled beneath them. “Of course not. That’s part of being here isn’t it? I’m not allowed to feel anything but better right?” She snapped off her light and her head hit the pillow.
“I think you’re mad,” Sadie said softly. The darkness kept Elle’s expression hidden.
Chapter 10
Had he really just asked her that?
“I don’t remember a lot about that night. I remember enough though,” Elle said staring down at her arms. “I didn’t think we would talk about it so soon.”
Dr. Jon sat forward. “Part of healing is dealing with the problem head on, Elle. If we keep avoiding the issue you’re never going to move forward.”
“What’s the point in moving forward? Everyone hates me.” She literally felt ready to crawl out of her skin just talking about it.
“Everyone does not hate you. People are hurt, yes, but hating you isn’t on anyone’s agenda. People are grieving for Stephy and they are dealing with the loss of you as well.” Dr. Jon studied Elle, she was paler, she clutched at her stomach.
“I’m not feeling well.”
“A few more minutes than your free to go,” Dr. Jon assured her. “Tell me about Stephy.”
She shut her eyes. “She was my best friend. Always laughing, always smiling. One of the most caring people I ever met.”
“What about that night. The night of the accident. How was Stephy?” Dr. Jon pulled at his tie. “You weren’t the only one drinking. Stephy was as well am I right?”
Elle nodded. “Stephy drink too much, so she wanted to leave the party. And so did I.”
“Why was that?”
“A bunch of people crashed the party and it was getting out of control. We didn’t want to be there anymore. It was getting too wild,” Elle said. They had pushed past at least thirty guys to get out the door of their friend Charlotte’s house. People she never seen before.
“And you said you had hit your head in the bathroom?” Dr. Jon asked.
“I think I tripped. But Stephy was the worst. She was throwing up right before we left,” Elle said.
“Did you believe you were okay to drive?” Dr. Jon jotted something down on the paper.
“It wasn’t the first time I drove drunk. I always made it home. I didn’t think that night would be any different,” Elle said, shifting in her seat.
“Had you drink more than usual?” Dr. Jon pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Any drug use that night?”
“I don’t do drugs. And no I don’t think I drink any more than the usual. I don’t know.” She stared at her hands, going quiet.
Dr. Jon closed his tablet and returned his pen to his shirt pocket. “I want you to try to write in your journal before our next meeting. It could be about that night or about anything that you want.”
Elle headed down the hall going back to her room. She passed by Hart’s room like every other time, only this time she found herself looking for him.
Chapter 11
“You look like you’re in a better mood,” Hart said taking a seat at the picnic table on the patio.
Elle closed her journal looking around at all the other patients. And all the empty chairs and places he could have sat. “Because I’m writing in a journal?”
“No, you just look like you feel better,” Hart said.
She ran a hand down her shiny hair that usually was dull and lifeless. “Maybe I’ve just realized being stubborn gets me nowhere.”
“Well good,” Hart said. He dropped back on the bench using his hands for comfort as he stared up at the blue sky.
Elle went back to writing. “I think it is.”
“Did you think about my offer?”
“What offer? Oh you mean the one where you want to get to know me,” she smirked.
Hart sat up, an eyebrow raised. “Someone is cocky.”
“Well, what else would you call it?” She tapped her pencil on the picnic table.
“Curiosity. I’d call it being a wonderful human being, or if you wanted the honest answer I’d say you’re the most interesting person in here and I hate to be bored.”
“I see,” Elle said. “You mean all these meetings and art projects don’t keep you busy?”
“No, just the opposite. They make me want to go out and do very bad things. Things that brought me in here in the first place,” Hart admitted running a hand through his hair.
“Well that doesn’t give me much hope,” Elle said rolling her eyes at Hart’s smirk.
He had been there so many times before while she hadn’t. She wondered if he knew something that she didn’t. Or maybe that was his problem, maybe he knew nothing.
Maybe she was going to remain messed up for the rest of her life. A miserable soul destined to walk the earth wishing for the end so she could quit feeling so god awful.
She had been there for weeks now and she didn’t feel any different. Her brain had been kicked back into thinking about every horrible thing she had done—the ones she could remember at least. And now she was fighting misery all day long, trying to keep from feeling awful. And it was hard, she obsessed about every detail, trying to remember it all so she could maybe find a sliver of hope. Maybe she would remember something that would tell her that she wasn’t as bad as she thought she was. But she knew it would never matter because she was the cause of it all. She killed Stephy. And no matter what it all would just feel like hell, she was given a second chance while her friend was gone forever. She wished they had put her in prison, because at least than she could feel at least she paid in some way for what she had done.
And that was how she spent her entire stint in rehab, shifting between feelings of guilt and feeling of sanity. She tried to feel better and forgive herself. She tried to interact she tried every god damn thing they told her to try. She did it all searching for that ray of hope.
All the way until her last day of rehab, she just tried, until she was pushed back out into the real world to put all the pieces back together
.
Chapter 11
The crowd cheered at the television. Hands pounded the tabletops and peanuts scattered. It was a joyous occasion, the local team was winning.
“It’s almost halftime, if we can just keep this up for the last two quarters, man we’ll be golden,” Pauly said taking a swig of his beer. He high fived his friends and went back to concentrating on the game.
“I’ll be right back,” Elle said slipping from her seat. She followed Jory through the crowd of people watching the game. Jory was Monty’s girlfriend and Monty was Pauly’s best friend since they both were kids.
“It’s the same thing every god damn weekend. Football,” Jory said with a shake of the head. “Honestly, I’d rather be doing something else.”
Elle smirked, shoving the bathroom door open. She checked the first stall going in. “Yeah, well, Pauly
is so obsessed with the game there is no getting around it. It’s better than hearing him whine about how we don’t ever do anything he wants to do.”
“He’s the exact same way as Monty. I don’t know why we put up with it,” Jory whined.
“I’m not sure. Maybe because we love them. Isn’t that what girlfriends say?” Love. It was supposed to make you do insane things.
Elle pumped some soap into her hands. She turned on the faucet, studying herself in the mirror. Jory took the sink next to her.
“The difference between me and you is I get to drown my boredom with alcohol. You—” She shot Elle a look. “Not so much.”
“I told you, it’s not a big deal anymore. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a drink and it doesn’t bother me. I’m fine.” She crossed her heart, raking a hand through her hair.
Turning off the water the thought of rehab plagued her mind. Even if it been some time since she had been there it didn’t take away the misery she felt. Or the hole that was in her life from the loss of Stephy.
Jory squeezed Elle’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you. For hanging in there after all you’ve been through. We all miss Stephy. I know I can say that I am glad to have you back even if she’s no longer with us.”
Elle pursed her lips. “Let’s go before you start getting all emotional on me right here in the bathroom.” She guided Jory to the bathroom door. She didn’t want to talk about Stephy or the accident. It was something she had been trying hard to forget. And as long as she didn’t talk about it she was really good at doing just that.
“Come with me to get another drink,” Jory said, taking her by the hand and leading her through the crowd to the bar.
Elle pushed her hair behind her ear looking away from the drinks and staff bustling to and fro as they served their customers. She settled on the neon sign on the wall while Jory ordered tequila or whatever tickled her fancy at that moment.
She searched through the crowd for Pauly and Monty, doing her best to pass the time while they waited.
“Excuse me,” a guy said taking the spot beside her. “Can I get a beer and water for my friend?”
He glanced at Elle giving her a nod and a smile. “I’m going to take a leak, Hart, you grab our drinks.” And with that he hurried off.
She looked him up and down. “You got to be kidding me.”
That same devious grin formed on his face. He moved closer. “Elle Saunders, the most stubborn girl I ever met is that you?”
Jory focused in on the two of them as she waited to order her drink.
“Yeah it’s me. What are you doing here?”
He raised an eyebrow. “My friend and I are watching the game. Just like every other person in this place.”
She nodded. “Oh, so you’re a football freak too I see.” She stared at his black t-shirt, it wasn’t the team color.
“No, I wouldn’t go that far,” he said. He tugged at the jersey she was wearing. “Purple is your color.”
She stared down at his hand as it met back up with his jean pocket. “It isn’t what you think. I hardly know anything about football.”
He smirked. “Sure, I’m willing to bet you have money on this game don’t ya?”
Elle shook her head, smiling at his joke. Jory came closer ending the moment. “Who is this, Elle?”
“Hart. An old friend of hers.” Hart offered a hand. Jory eagerly shook it, taking in his tall frame.
“I’m Jory, also an old friend of hers,” she moved away taking her drink and quickly returned. “Elle has never talked about you.”
Hart playfully frowned. “Aww, breaks my heart. We had some good times.”
Jory’s eyes widened.
Elle shook her head, slapping him. “He’s joking. We only know each other because of rehab. That’s it.”
Hart watched Elle a big grin on his face. He liked making her nervous. “Yes, that’s it. After a month or so I finally broke this one.” He poked her in the side. “She finally let me get to know her a little.”
“You wish,” Elle said. “Most of it was lies.”
“Darn. You mean to tell me you didn’t really breathe fire in the circus?” They both laughed.
Pauly came up behind Elle wrapping his hands around her waist, Hart backed off, watching the couple while the bartender got his drinks.
“Hey babe, grab me a beer while I take a piss?” Pauly didn’t wait for her answer he hurried away to the bathroom.
“Dr. Jon would say that’s a no no,” Hart said. “By the way, how are you doing with it all?”
Elle raised an eyebrow. “I’m fine. Handling a beer is not going to push me over the edge.” But inside she was angry every time Pauly asked her to handle alcohol. It was bad enough she was in a sports bar.
Jory tapped her on the shoulder. “I’m going to go sit back down with Monty before he thinks we all abandoned him.” She hurried off.
Elle took the beer the bar tender handed her and dropped her hand to her side so she didn’t have to look at it. The coolness against her skin set her heart thudding in her chest. It felt wrong.
“What about you?” She squeezed the bottle. “Are you okay?”
Hart shrugged. “I’m as fine as they all want to believe that I am.”
“What does that even mean?” She asked.
“Don’t you just wish you would have taken me up on my offer?” He licked his lips a familiar grin showing up. “I’ll see you around maybe. It was nice bumping into you. Even if it was the one place we should stay far away from.”
He watched her head off, taking her place at the table with her so called friends.
Chapter 12
Elle brushed her hair in the bathroom mirror, and then reapplied her lip gloss. A barrage of laughter echoed the hallway. She sighed and turned the door handle coming from the bathroom and headed down the hallway to the dining room where everyone was seated.
“You look nice,” Pauly said as she settled in the seat beside him.
“Thanks. What did I miss?” she asked, picking up her salad fork and plunging it into the salad in front of her.
“Dad made a toast. Mom ran off to get my birthday cake she spent all day baking. You know the drill.” Pauly leaned back in his seat wrapping an arm around Elle.
Pauly’s sister turned her attention to Elle. “Wasn’t Stephy’s birthday two days after Pauly’s?”
Elle winced, and finally opened her mouth to speak. “Yeah, it was.”
Jackie shook her head pleased that she was right. “Such a shame that she’s gone, I can’t believe it’s been over a year already. It’s great to see you’re handling it all so well though.” She took a long swallow of her red wine going back to conversation with one of Pauly’s aunts.
“Don’t let her get to you,” Pauly said, he stroked her arm. “She’s a bitch, you know this.”
Elle dropped her fork and pushed her plate away. “It’s great to see I’m handling it so well. What the hell does that even mean?”
Pauly shushed her. “Elle, let it go. We don’t need another argument about this mess.”
Elle moved away from Pauly. “This mess? Is that all you think of me?”
“I didn’t say you were a mess. Could we talk about this later?” Pauly shifted in his seat and ran a hand through his hair. “Now is not the time.”
Elle stood up. She planted a kiss on Pauly’s cheek and dropped her napkin on the table. With a big smile on her face she wished everyone a nice evening and headed for the door.
Pauly followed after her. “What are you doing?”
She wriggled into her jacket. “I’m going home. I hope you have a great birthday. I am going to go deal with my mess.”
Pauly grabbed her arm. “You’re being emotional. People are going to miss Stephy and want to talk about it. We all talk about it. You can’t run through life acting as if she’s not dead.”
She pulled away. “And I can’t avoid the truth that it’s my fault. But you want me to shove it aside when I’m a
ngry or offended.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. I just thought that by now you would know how to get over this. Maybe not be so mad all the time, Elle,” Pauly said.
“I spent months in rehab trying to get over this. I’m not over this and I probably will never be over this. I don’t think you can handle that.” She headed for the door, ignoring Pauly’s objections.
He thought she should stay, deal with his family and their remarks, their hatred for her. Everyone loved Stephy, the whole town. She was popular and there wasn’t a person that didn’t know who she was.
There wasn’t a person who didn’t know what happened and they all were ready to judge her any chance they got.
Chapter 13
Elle tossed her coat on the bench forgetting about the hook. She shook her high heels off and headed for the living room. She took the seat next to her mother and snagged some of her blanket.
“I thought tonight was Pauly’s party?” Her mother asked taking her glasses off. She rested her book in her lap, the deep line that ran between her eyebrows showed itself as she studied Elle.
“It was. I left early.” She rested her head against her mother’s shoulder. “We got in a fight.”
“Another one?”
Elle sighed. “Yes, another one.”
“Was it about the accident again?” Her mother smoothed her hair, she felt for her. She always had since the day it happened.
“It’s always about the accident. Everything is always about the accident.” She flicked on the television doing her best to forget about the night and how mad she was at Pauly for being so insensitive.
“Pauly cares about you. I’m sure he is only trying to help you through,” her mother said. “You two have been together for a long time. I think he’s just trying to adjust.”