by Lisa Eugene
A nutritionist was helping me to develop meal plans. I had to learn to eat normally again. My eating pattern had been grossly unhealthy. It seemed her biggest message to me was to stop dieting. Taking my focus off losing weight would help me develop healthier attitudes about food and my body.
Although each day I made strides towards recovery, I still had a long way to go. Amy and I had briefly skimmed the surface of my childhood, teenage years, and my relationship with my father. My chronic depression, issues of self-worth, and isolation were giants we’d yet to tackle. Generally, I felt better, less weighed down. That was due not only to the antidepressants I’d been taking and my therapy, but also because of one amazing man who gave me unconditional love and support.
I had to constantly remind myself that you couldn’t walk a mile without taking one step at a time, and sometimes you had to take a step backward in order to see farther into the distance, or look behind you to see how far you’d come.
This wasn’t going to be easy. Conceptually, it all made sense, but truthfully, I had anxiety that I wouldn’t be able to apply all that I’d learned in real life. Amy told me there was a chance I’d be discharged next week, and honestly, I was terrified. This environment was safe, familiar. It was structured. How would I function out in the real world? What did my future hold? What was going to happen with medical school? How would I pay my bills? My father was no longer supporting me. I wasn’t a teen being discharged home to my parents’ home. I had to deal with a life that was still in shambles.
Would all that stress send me running to Dunkin’ Donuts and McDonalds?
I’d just finished up with Amy. As always, I was exhausted after my session. Exhausted, but also exhilarated. Sometimes, I’d cry so much that I could barely get my words out. And it felt good to feel, to let go and not need to be in control. Really good. Cathartic.
I was walking by the rec room when I saw Susan talking to a few of the women. She was the center of attention. I could hear her gregarious laughter ring down the hall. She said something that got my attention and I stopped at the door, watching. She opened her mouth and lifted her tongue, pointing to the tiny pockets underneath.
“That’s where it goes, ladies!” she beamed with a cocky grin. “Fuck all of them! You don’t need to take your meds!”
“You don’t swallow them?” one of the women asked, incredulous.
“Nope,” Susan replied smugly. “No way. Just put them under your tongue and pretend to swallow. They won’t know the difference. When the bitches leave, you spit the shit down the toilet.”
I frowned, listening as she instructed the other women on how to evade taking their meds. Most of them were older than me. I spent most of my time in my room, but couldn’t help but overhear their conversations. This was the most disturbing. As I stared at Susan, I realized it was also the most telling. She’d been an inpatient longer than any of us. She must’ve sensed me at the door. Her gaze turned in my direction and her hand found her hip.
“Lose something?” she asked sharply.
I pushed up my glasses as all eyes turned to me. I stared for a minute, wanting to say what was on my mind. I stopped. Who the hell was I to butt my nose in where it didn’t belong? I had my own issues to deal with. I shook my head. “No.” With that, I continued down the hall, feeling strangely conflicted.
When I entered my room, Laura was sitting on the chair, cradling Johnson in her lap. She was watching another talent show. I froze in my tracks, my breath suspended in shock. She was singing. Beautifully. Her silky voice floated through the room, exquisitely euphonious.
“Oh my God, Laura,” I whispered in awe, slowing approaching her. I’d barely ever heard her talk, let alone sing.
On hearing me, her lips clamped together and she quickly looked away. Her face reddened with embarrassment. Immediately, her head began a spastic jerk, and small noises exploded from her throat.
“Laura,” I called softly. I stopped in front of her. “That was beautiful. You have an amazing voice.”
She peeked at me through her lashes, her facial muscles flicking and jumping.
“You should use your voice more,” I smiled. “It’s beautiful.”
She hugged Johnson close, as if it was a shield. I half expected her to hop from the chair and run away, but she sat staring at her feet and twitching. I backed away and sat on my bed. I watched the rest of the talent show, commenting to her periodically about who I thought should win. Eventually she stopped twitching and grunting. Casting her a glance, I wished I could hear her sing again. This timid girl with Tourette’s Syndrome was filled with extraordinary talent and beauty. Her voice blew away the people on TV.
Dex
Agitated and fidgety, John startled and jumped back, his gaze glued to my face.
“Dex! What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at the bar?”
I forced my breath in and out slowly, urging myself to stay calm. My mind was doing all sorts of adjustments as pieces of a giant puzzle fell into place with a click. I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt.
“I was in the neighborhood, so I decided to stop by,” I replied casually. I turned my face toward the door he’d just exited. “You live here, right?”
“Y-yeah.” His bony throat worked down a hard swallow. He was nervous, wondering if I’d seen his interaction with Rhonda. He wasn’t sure.
“Maybe we can have that drink upstairs in your apartment?” I asked, but I was already moving into the building, giving him no choice.
“I…ah…um…sure,” he stammered, but followed behind.
Upstairs, I helped myself to a beer from his fridge, then made myself comfortable on his couch. He was still standing inside the door, wearing his coat, when I looked up. His apartment was small, one room with a kitchenette.
“Make yourself comfortable,” I laughed sarcastically, taking a swig of Bud. My laughter sounded wickedly ominous in the small room.
John’s face paled. Beads of sweat lined his top lip. He was starting to freak out, wondering what I was up to. The apprehension of not knowing what was going through my head was worse than anything I could’ve done to him. Fucking asshole.
I watched silently as he shrugged out of his coat and grabbed a beer. He sat across from me, his knee bouncing.
“So you had some questions?” he asked after clearing his throat.
I paused for a moment, then pursed my lip and nodded. “Yeah, why’d you do it? Was it for the pussy?”
Beer came spewing out of his mouth and nose. He coughed so hard I thought I’d have to give him CPR. I waited patiently.
He blinked like an owl. “Wh-what are you talking about?”
I sighed. There was no way he’d have such a violent response if he didn’t know exactly what I was talking about.
“Rhonda, she’s your new girlfriend, right? The model?”
“No. We’re not…not like that.”
I sent him a long, steady gaze. The more I stared, the more he squirmed. I thought about the first time I’d seen Rhonda. It had been in The New Yorker magazine. She’d been one of the most eligible bachelorettes featured in that article Henry had shown me. The magazine had touted her as intelligent, beautiful, driven, and from a wealthy and influential family. They’d forgotten to mention ruthless and unprincipled. I’d told Henry there was probably something wrong with her. I’d been right.
The night of the medical school Christmas party, I’d run into her when I’d arrived. She’d been carrying her coat. She’d just arrived, too. Yet I now remembered her making a comment about taking pictures all evening. She’d probably had another photo shoot for the magazine. I guess that made her a model—sort of. Maybe in John’s twisted mind, it did. He’d told a bunch of half-truths.
Tired of the games, I took a long draw from the bottle. I needed answers.
“What did she promise you to set up Alexa?”
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he maintained, but now his voice was weak and hollow, his
face an unhealthy red.
I scratched my jaw, giving him a pensive look. “I’m guessing that you were the mastermind behind the plan. It was all your idea. Is that what I’m telling Dr. Leon?”
At the mention of the dean’s name, John’s eyes widened. He jerked forward in his chair, alarm mottling his face. “No! No way! This was all Rhonda’s idea. She’s the one who planned it, I swear!”
My fists opened and closed. Every muscle in my body tightened. My teeth ground together so hard I thought I heard one crack. I had to stay calm—for Stats.
“What did she promise you?”
John’s body became limp, defeat collapsing his face. He seemed to realize there was no use in further pretending. He crumbled.
“I’m so sorry…I swear I didn’t know Alexa was going to get expelled. I swear I didn’t. I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he drawled miserably.
“Tell me.”
“It was just to get her out of the running for valedictorian. Rhonda said if I helped her, that she’d do some of my papers for me, help me with school. She said that Dr. Leon would believe me because Alexa and I are friends.”
My brow slid up. From what I saw in the lobby, there’d been more to this deal. “And the nooky?”
John blew out a breath and he averted his gaze, looking embarrassed. “That, too.”
I leaned my back against the couch, deep in thought. I needed something tangible. “I don’t believe you. I think you planned it all.”
John shook his head sharply. “No! I didn’t! You can read all the texts that she sent me…see the things she told me to do…like when to plant the stuff in the locker…the stuff about Alexa’s phone—”
“Phone?” I shifted forward, frowning.
He sighed heavily. “Alexa and I often had study sessions. She’d sometimes disappear into the bathroom, leaving her computer sitting around. I saw her private file, the one with her personal information,…everything.”
“Like the code to her combination lock?”
“That I knew. I’ve seen her open her locker enough times.” He scratched the back of his neck.
I nodded for him to continue, silently gripping the cushion to keep myself from springing on him like a wild beast.
“But it was Rhonda who’d called the phone company and pretended to be Alexa. She’d made up that story about getting crank calls and wanted to get her phone turned off. Without our phones, we’re lost. She wanted Alexa to miss grand rounds—to get in trouble.”
Christ! I cursed under my breath, realizing that was why I couldn’t get in touch with Stats after the accident. I’d thought she’d given me a bogus number. I was relieved to finally get to the bottom of the equipment theft, but I found no pleasure in it. Alexa would be devastated that John had played a part in sabotaging her. She considered him a friend, and for that alone, I wanted to wring his neck.
Thoroughly disgusted, I took a glance at my watch. There wasn’t any time to waste. I straightened my shoulders and faced him squarely.
“Dr. Leon should still be in his office. We are going to head on over there and you’re going to tell him exactly what happened,” I said firmly.
John was already shaking his head, terror flaming in his eyes. He looked like he was about to burst into tears. “No way! No way! I’ll get expelled from the program. I can’t do that!”
I eyed him calmly. “Maybe you misunderstood. You don’t have a choice.”
“Oh, God…” he croaked. “What if I don’t do it?”
I took a few swallows of the cold beer, letting it ease down my throat. I looked directly into John’s beady, pathetic, brown eyes.
“Then you leave me no choice, but to beat the living shit out of you. Then I will still take your phone and go to Dr. Leon with the proof.”
He looked as though he’d just wet his pants.
My heart pounded out of my chest as I waited anxiously for the nurse to unlock the door to the psych ward and sign me in. Eager to see Stats, I practically sprinted down the hall to her room. Walking in, I noticed her new friend in the chair by her bed. As usual, she clutched Johnson. Alexa sat on the bed, her face lighting up when she saw me. I gobbled up the distance between us and stole a taste of her lips.
“Hi, Laura.” I looked up and waved with a big smile.
Laura stood immediately and placed the ball on the table. She didn’t respond, but I was surprised that she made, and for a few short seconds, held eye contact. In a flash, she was gone from the room, leaving me chomping at the bit to talk to Stats. She watched me, her eyes big and round behind her glasses. I sat on the bed and took her hands in mine, suddenly apprehensive.
“I have some news,” I started, unable to hold off any longer. “Dr. Leon is going to allow you to re-matriculate into the medical program.”
Her palms flew to her mouth, a whispered Oh My God gushing between her fingers. She trembled, her entire body reacting to the news.
“How? Wh-why? Wh-when?”
Tears welled in her eyes and I needed to take a deep breath to calm the jitters jumping like crickets under my skin. Reclaiming her hands, I told her about waiting outside the hospital for Tina, about what I saw, and about John’s confessions. Her face changed from shock and joy to anger and disbelief, and then finally to heartbreak.
This was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. Hurt and disappointment glazed her eyes with tears, making me wish I’d beat the crap out of John for his betrayal. Pulling her into my arms, I held her as it all sank in.
Moments later, she took off her glasses and wiped her eyes.
“What happens to John?”
“I don’t know. His fate is in the board’s hands. His and Rhonda’s.”
She nodded quietly, listening as I continued.
“You’d have to repeat your entire fourth year to get your degree, but you could re-start as early as September. Dr. Leon was genuinely remorseful and disturbed by the events. He said that if all goes well next year, he’d be willing to recommend you for the position at the Mayo Clinic.”
I held my breath, waiting for her reaction. This was what she’d wanted, what she’d dreamed of. I expected somersaults on the bed or at the very least, a happy dance. She was looking down at her hands clutched in mine. Her forehead wrinkled as she searched somewhere inside herself.
“What?” I was confused. I tilted her chin to see her eyes.
Her teeth latched on to her bottom lip. The look she gave me could have calmed the roughest seas. It was determined, keen, carved with brutal honesty.
“I don’t want it.”
I sucked in an audible breath, stunned by her words.
We both waited, the room deceptively quiet. I could see Stats lining up her thoughts, trying to organize them before letting them loose. I waited patiently, knowing that this was a big deal. A crossroads.
“Dex, I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me. Honestly, it shows me what a beautiful heart you have. I love you for always going to bat for me.” She filled her lungs with a breath. “I should be jumping with joy right now from this news, but I’m not. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking over the last few weeks, trying to figure out who Alexa Kennedy is and what she wants.
I know I want to be a doctor and I thank you for giving me that opportunity back. I’m not sure when I’ll be ready to return to school, though. I’ll have to work something out with Dr. Leon. I do love medicine, but if I’m to be honest with myself, the Mayo Clinic was never my dream. It was my father’s. I think I pushed so hard to get that spot to please him, to prove that I could be the best at something. It was all about winning and proving to myself that I was good enough. It almost destroyed me.”
I nodded, understanding creeping into my shell-shocked brain. I had nothing but love and respect for the woman in front of me.
“I’ve always loved research. I might do something in that field,” she added.
She adjusted her glasses and smiled at me. My heart skipped under my ribs. I’d always
thought she had a good head for research. Facts and statistics came naturally to her analytical brain.
“It’s ultimately your decision.”
“Either way,” she continued. “I need time to figure it out.”
I leaned forward and kissed her because I couldn’t help myself. Tracing my lips lightly over hers, I sighed at the taste of her luscious mouth. She parted her lips and I sank my tongue inside, groaning deeply. I sensed her grinning against my lips. I opened my eyes and pulled back.
“I have some news for you, too,” she said.
“What?”
“I might be discharged next week.”
My eyes widened. Happiness bubbled up inside me. I knew she’d been doing well. From what she told me about therapy, it seemed she’d made great strides.
“That’s awesome! I hadn’t expected your discharge to be so soon.”
“Not much is done as an inpatient these days. All my therapy would continue as an outpatient.”
She sounded matter-of-fact, but her expression displayed a mosaic of emotions that was hard to interpret.
“How do you feel about that?” I asked.
“I’m scared,” she admitted.
I took hold of her hands and kissed her fingers. “It’s a good sign if they think you’re ready to go home.”
“I know, it’s just that going back into the real world isn’t going to be easy. I have to come to the clinic for therapy three times a week, but it’s not like an inpatient environment. It’s safe here. No real stress.”
I nodded understanding. Having to deal with reality and everyday problems would be a challenge. I knew she’d learned a lot in therapy and she’d continue to learn ways to cope and face challenges as they arose.
“As long as you continue treatment, I have every confidence you’ll be fine. I’ll be here for you, Stats. I’ll always support you.”
She smiled and hugged me. I loved the feel of her arms around me. I sank my nose into her hair and inhaled. There’d been something on my mind I’d wanted to talk to her about. I pulled back and looked at her, wanting to make sure she heard what I was saying.