Life on the Level: On the Verge - Book Three

by Zoraida Cordova

  Walking back into HCRC, I feel like I’m on clouds. I’m so sure I’m on the right path, and now Leti and Sky have seen it. I change into pajamas. Everyone is going to gather in the media room for a movie, though there’s some contention about whether we’ll be watching Men in Black or Pitch Perfect. On my way to the media room, I decide to go check on Maddie.

  I know we aren’t the best of friends. I never go out of my way to befriend someone, and maybe that’s been one of my problems in getting close to people in the past. She’s just as lost as I am, and needs to know she has more options than Taylor. Taylor, who made himself scarce from all the family activities.

  When I go to knock on Maddie’s door, it’s already cracked open, but the shower is running.

  I take one step into the bathroom. The floor is wet, and I slip. I hit my head so hard the room rattles.

  “Maddie, what the hell? Use a floor mat.”

  But the wet stuff isn’t water. It’s a pool of blood, with Maddie unconscious in the center of it.

  Chapter 33

  “Even in my darkest moment, I never tried to hurt myself. That doesn’t make me better than the people who do. That just makes me a different kind of lucky. I remember days where I would lie in my bed and think about it, but I’d chicken out because I don’t like pain, or I was afraid I might go too far. I remember the sadness, but even in that sadness I never wanted to die.”

  Ransom looks at me with sad eyes. We’ve all been forced into special counseling sessions. Especially me, because I’m the one who found Maddie. I’m afraid of my own weakness.

  I close my eyes and picture Maddie. Her eyes were half open and she was still crying. Her tears mixed into her blood, steam settling around her.

  “River—I’m sorry,” she said.

  “I don’t get why she apologized to me,” I say. “I mean, why was she sorry that she cut open her veins and let herself lie there? If anything we’re the ones who should be sorry. I didn’t try hard enough. I was too busy being happy. But that’s when things go to shit, right? The second you get a little too happy is when God or the universe or whatever six-headed monster is driving this thing—that’s when it decides to shit on you or the people around you.”

  I stand and pace the room. I pick up the football on his desk and throw it from hand to hand. I see blood and tears and Maddie’s sad eyes. They took her away and she barely had a pulse. It was like she was empty, the life all but tapped out of her.

  “Helen says Maddie’s alive,” Ransom says, “but her parents came to take her back to Seattle.”

  “Where were her parents when she was sitting in the cafeteria waiting for them?”

  He doesn’t have an answer.

  “I get it,” I say. “It’s not other people’s jobs to fix us. We have to want to save ourselves. But what if you think that you’re alone? What’s the difference between this dark and dying? I just don’t know.”

  “River, I don’t want you to think that you are in any way responsible.”

  “Why? Because I was nasty to her the first day I met her? I mean, I knew she was sad. I saw it.”

  “You said you tried to get her to join you yesterday.”

  “Yeah, but was it enough? You can’t baby people, but then you can’t leave them alone, either. It’s too hard, you know? Is it my fault that I didn’t try hard enough? Maybe.”

  “River, we all have monsters in our closets. No matter how much help we get, it’s still up to the individual to want to battle that monster.”

  “We’re just battling ourselves,” I tell him. “This place, outside of here. No matter where we go, we’re the monsters and the thing fighting the monster at the same time. What do we say when things are bad? It’s meant to be. What do we say when we’re seconds away from making a change? You can’t change the past. What do we say when things get worse? Life isn’t fair. What do you say when someone is struggling? You have to want to help yourself first.

  “I mean, what’s the point if the answers aren’t really answers, just things meant to make us feel better?”

  After that we’re quiet for a long, long time.

  • • •

  I spend the rest of the day with Leti and Sky. I didn’t want them to see that side of this place, but they don’t complain. We walk across the hills. We watch the horses gallop freely and the cows graze. They cheer me up by talking about New York. About Uncle Pepe, Tony, and the family.

  “You’re out of here at the end of November,” Leti says. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do after that?”

  A strangled laugh leaves my lips. “Do I ever know what I’m doing?”

  Sky brushes my hair away from my face. It’s cold out, and we huddle together around the courtyard fire pit. I breathe in the cold mountain air.

  “Where do you want to be?” Sky asks me.

  “I wish I could be in two places at once. I mean, I miss the city. I miss the lights, and the Lower East Side. I miss my queen-sized bed, and lattes as big as my face. I miss you and Leti. I miss the smell of the beach. One of my favorite sights is the New York skyline after being away, and you’re flying in or driving and it’s just there—bright and epic and unforgettable.

  “But I wonder if I’m strong enough to stay clean if I’m back there. But if I don’t at least try, I might regret it. What if I can’t do it?”

  “You know you’ll always have Leti and me no matter where you are.”

  “I know. Then there’s… him. Sometimes I wonder if the reason this thing is so strong is because it’s forbidden. Like we’re just getting off on the idea that we’re doing something wrong. And when it’s over, what happens then? We’re just a normal couple?”

  “Don’t go there, River,” Sky tells me. “You can lose yourself in trying to figure out what it means. You’re going to make yourself crazy. Remember when I was trying to justify my attraction to Hayden? I have never seen you look at someone the way you look at Hutch. And I don’t know him, but I think I’m a pretty good judge of character. That man loves you.”

  “You’re a terrible judge of character,” Leti tells her. “But I agree. I’m surprised you’ve been able to keep it quiet for so long.”

  The three of us knock on wood.

  “Do you want to stay here?” Leti asks.

  “In Montana?” I look into the faces of the two people I can’t lie to, even when I lie to myself. “I’ve never felt as free as I have since I’ve been here. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my fun. But while I’m here, while I’m with him, I feel like I can have more.”

  “And if it doesn’t work out, you can always come home,” Leti tells me. “We’ll be there with open arms.”

  Chapter 34

  Fifty-five days sober

  The rest of October flies by without incident. Maddie’s absence is sad, but like many things, it fades. I start to notice that people leave the facility every day. So far, only two have come back after falling immediately off the wagon. What’ll it be like when I leave here in a month? Will anyone miss me? Is it like high school, where everyone promises to keep in touch, but after a long summer we’re just fading memories? I know that I for one will want to remember the time I’ve spent here.

  Helen says the Halloween party is still on. The staff hopes to bring back much-needed joy to the patients. Candy and dressing up like someone you’re not is apparently a cure for all ills.

  Hutch and I spend more time apart, which is a good thing I guess. He’s busy with trauma counseling, and more new patients than I’ve ever seen before. When he visits me at night, he looks tired, like his soul is weary. So I just kiss him, and try to take his pain into myself. My least favorite time of day is morning, because he’s always gone back across the hall. It gets worse every time. It’s like waking up with a part of me missing.

  • • •

  Two days before the Halloween party, Julie decides she wants to be friends again.

  “Hey River,” she says.

  I’m trying to carve
pumpkins with safety scissors, which proves a challenge. At this rate, I should hire a local kindergarten class to decorate—they’d probably do a better job than us.

  “What’s up?” I say. I don’t mean to be cold, but ever since the camping trip I’ve been keeping my distance.

  She pulls strands of hair out of her messy bun and twirls them around her finger. “I just—I just wanted to see if you needed help.”

  “I think we’ve got it under control,” I say. She looks disappointed. I push away my pride. Maybe it’s because of what happened to Maddie, but I say, “But if you want, I think Nick could use some help hanging the ghosts.”

  That makes her smile, and I realize I was being petty.

  By the end of the day, the room has improved to looking like a fourth-grade class’s Halloween party, which is fine with me. There’s enough glitter and papier-mâché to give the illusion we’re not in a rehab center. Everyone leaves for dinner except Julie, who begs me for help with her Halloween costume again. I don’t know when I turned into a bleeding heart, but I concede, and she runs off to get the thrift store bin.

  While she’s gone, Taylor comes in to give the room a final mop, even though he’s just going to have to do it again tomorrow. He makes his way over to me, and leans on the wooden staff.

  “How you holding up, Empire State?”

  I can’t help but look horrified. Maddie called me that, and he knows it.

  “Fine,” I say, unable to restrain my anger.

  He chuckles, which doubles my anger. “I just wanted to let you know that I have some new stuff. You haven’t visited in a real long time. I’m starting to miss you.”

  He doesn’t go as far as to touch my hair, but his hand makes the motion.

  “Do you miss Maddie, too?” I level my eyes at his. He makes a face, but stays quiet. “Who’s your assistant now that she’s gone?”

  “What makes you think Maddie was the only one?”

  “Did you even care about her?”

  “You of all people should know that everyone is means to an end.”

  I want to puke on his face. I want to beat him with his own mop. Just then, Julie walks in. She drops the box of clothes and gasps.

  “Oh, sorry. I was just—”

  “Hey Julie,” Taylor says to her in that slick voice of his. “Can’t wait to see your costume.”

  She turns a bright red, and then he’s gone.

  I’m stewing in my rage when Julie speaks. “Have you decided?”

  Have I decided what? How I’m going to take down Taylor? Where I’m going to be in a month? What I’m supposed to do with my life after this is all over? This place was supposed to be my getaway from my troubles, but now I feel more buried than ever.

  “Hm?” I ask, when I realize she’s holding up a few garments for me.

  “Have you decided what you’re going as?”

  I try to smile. “Not yet. Let’s just work on you first, okay?”

  “Okay. I want to be something pretty, but not childish. The problem is that everything for the girls has these frilly things. Who even wears this?”

  “I think this is all from the ‘80s.” I hold the lacey gold dress up to examine it. “I don’t know how much safety scissors are going to help. I wish I had my sewing machine.”

  “You can sew?” she asks, as if I just confessed I could travel in time.

  “Just basic things. My dad taught me. His mother was a seamstress, and he had to help her when she worked.” When I was little, and my dad was down and we had no money, he would make me clothes. Frilly dresses that made me look as if I was a human cupcake. I never bought a Halloween costume because he’d always put something together for me. I was never allowed to tell anyone that my big, tall, manly father was the one making my costumes, but I was happy just to have something no one else was wearing. Something my daddy made just for me. I think of him sitting by our beat-up sewing machine, his mustached face stern as he cuts up fabric for his little girl’s dresses.

  I feel like there’s something caught in my chest as I cut fabric away from this dress. I don’t care what anyone tries to tell me. My daddy loved me.

  Julie decides she wants to be a space princess, and we put together something out of the gold and silver pieces in the bin. God bless ‘80s fashion. I make something for myself, which I think is pretty funny. When my eyes are red and my body is tired, I head to my room and lock the door, only to find Hutch already asleep on my bed. He’s only wearing boxers. His arms are over his head and his lips are parted. He makes a cute whistling sound when he sleeps. I lean against the wall and admire the glorious sculpture of his muscles. His leg twitches, and he mutters something that sounds like my name. He could be saying “Woof!” and I’d mistake it for my name, because that’s what I want to hear coming from his lips.

  I feel gritty after spending all day decorating. I barely let anyone help me, which Helen told me was the opposite of teamwork. But I needed to keep my hands busy. I turn on the shower, drop my clothes, and then jump right in. The water is always cold at first, but it steadily warms. I turn up the heat, the steam rising and clouding around me. I turn my back to the stream of water and relax into the water pressure. The one thing I do miss is having a proper bathtub, not just a shower.

  I slather foamy body wash on, and breathe in the sea-scented chemicals.

  Hands, strong but gentle, wrap around my waist. I collapse into Hutch’s hold, resting my head against his chest. He runs his hands over my breasts, my belly, and down between my legs.

  “I’ve missed you,” he says.

  “I saw you this morning.”

  He chuckles into my ear. “Still. It’s not enough.”

  I sigh as he rubs me down until I’m shuddering in his hold. I press my ass against his hardness, loving the way his husky voice vibrates against my skin. The shower stall is tiny, and there’s not enough room for the both of us to be in here at the same time. I press myself against the cool tiles, and he follows. We’re both slippery and wet and holding on to something bigger than the both of us. I gasp as he finds my center from the back and thrusts into me.

  “God you feel amazing,” he whispers, burying his head in my back.

  I get lost in the pleasure of his rhythm and the way he embraces me. He’s hard and soft, strong but sweet, and I love the dichotomy of everything he is. A few seconds with Hutch make my worries fall like petals in the wind. He’s stirred my heart in ways I didn’t think possible. I tighten my muscles, and he pants deeper and faster. When he pulls out, I spin around and grab his shaft. The shower washes away his release.

  He grabs me by the shoulders, like he’s trying to get me to focus. He looks deep into my eyes, and he opens his mouth like he wants to tell me something, but then he changes his mind and comes down for a kiss. We stand under the water, touching and caressing until our fingers start to prune.

  When we’re dry and back in bed, he presses me against his chest.

  “River,” he says.

  “Hutch.”

  “You feel distant.”

  I turn around to face him, throw my leg over his hip and bat my eyes. I think I know what he means. I’ve got a lot on my mind. The past, the present, and the future are creating a soupy serving of confusion. But I’m me, and I’m going to deny it.

  “You were literally just inside of me.”

  “Don’t be smart.”

  “Can’t help it.”

  He licks my nose. “You know what I mean. I want you to be able to talk to me. I’m more than just my body.”

  I bite his chin and he hisses, then smirks. I reach down and grab the hard curve of his ass.

  “I just keep thinking about things I can’t really solve right now. Are you worried Ransom knows more about me than you do?”

  He caresses my face. “Maybe. I want you to be able to talk to me. That’s kind of part of the boyfriend thing.”

  It’s still so weird to call him that. Despite that, I can’t help but smile. He presses the so
ftest kiss to my lips.

  “I don’t think you know just how much you mean to me,” he says.

  “How much?”

  “As much as the state of Montana.”

  “Texas is bigger.”

  “From here to Texas, then. From Texas to New York to Australia. More than all the lands here or anywhere. I don’t think my love for you can be contained on this earth, quite frankly.”

  I stiffen.

  My heart gives a powerful squeeze.

  He said the L word. Granted he didn’t tell me he L-words me, but still. All of my muscles seem to petrify, and I’m pretty sure I’m holding my breath. He lifts up my chin. I’m unable to break away from the fierceness in his dark eyes.

  “I love you, River Thomas. I love all the things that make you you, the broken parts and the good. I just wanted you to know.”

  I love you, too! I can feel the words lodged in my throat.

  It’s like we’re in a silent staring contest all of a sudden. No guy has ever spoken to me like this before. It’s usually a tangle of sheets and passion that burns out faster than it started. That’s how I like it: no-strings-attached fun. With Hutch, it’s more than just strings. We’re sewn together.

  The silence goes on for a dreadfully long time, and he’s still looking at me, waiting for me to speak. I’m an idiot. I’m a fool of a girl who fucks up, and I’m just going to fuck him up too.

  I love you, Chris Hutcherson. I love you from here to New York and as far out into the galaxies as anyone has ever traveled and beyond. I love you in the secrecy of the stars and under the blinding sun.

  And yet, I can’t bring myself to say it.

  I close my eyes and rest my head on my pillow, still facing him. He traces my arm until he falls asleep.

  “Goodnight, Hutch.”

  • • •

  When I wake, he’s gone, and I taste regret on my tongue. I feel shitty about not being able to respond to him last night. I search for him throughout the day, but the staff and patients are dispersed, buzzing about their costumes and the food and the music. Eventually, I give up looking for him.