Recovery Road Read Online Free PDF Page B

tonight,” I say.
    He stares straight ahead. “Yeah,” he says. “Me too.”
    I look away. My heart is thudding in my chest. I watch out the window as a farmhouse drifts by.
    I turn back to him. I summon every ounce of courage I possess. “Maybe we should meet up somewhere,” I say quietly.
    He looks at me, surprised. “I thought boys weren’t supposed to…you know…fraternize with girls.”
    “So we won’t. We’ll just hang out.”
    He looks at me in the dark. “Where would we do that?”
    “How about the Rite Aid, tomorrow at eight.”
    He thinks about the Rite Aid. He thinks about it a long time.
    “Or not,” I finally say. “If you don’t want to.”
    “No,” he says. “That might be okay.”

17
    T he next day, I am very businesslike as I go about my routine. I get up, get dressed, walk through the rain to my job at the laundry room. I wash sheets for three hours and then go to my group therapy, where I make up some crap about my parents so I can space out and think about meeting Stewart.
    After that, I go home and eat dinner and watch
Access Hollywood
with my housemates. At 7:30, I go to my room and change my clothes. Margarita is reading on her bunk. I look at myself in the mirror. I glance down at Margarita, who smiles at me innocently.
    Is it wrong to meet Stewart?
I wonder. I hadn’t really thought about that.
    When I’m ready, I find an old umbrella in the main closet. It’s broken of course, but it’ll work. I go outside and open it, and then stand for a moment on the porch. A strange feeling comes over me then, as I stare into the dark street. It’s not fear exactly. It’s more like a sense of the mystery of the world.
    But whatever. I’ve got a cute boy to meet. I hop down the porch steps and set out through the rainy night.
    The Rite Aid is bright and clean inside. I shake the water from my umbrella. I walk around in my wet Converse. I cruise around once really fast, but I’m early, and I see that Stewart’s not here yet. I try to relax then. I read some greeting cards.
    Eight o’clock comes. I walk through the aisles again, looking at the candy and the holiday stuff. A Christmas song is playing:
Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…
    Where is he?
I wonder. But I’m not mad. Not like I used to get.
    Now I’m just numb.
    He doesn’t come. It gets to be 8:20. 8:30. 8:40. I am sitting on the floor by the magazines when the manager finds me and tells me they close at 9:00. He is remarkably nice, considering I’ve been sitting on his floor for an hour, ruining his magazines.
    At 8:50, I pick out some gum to buy. I don’t know where Stewart is. I tell myself it’s okay. He probably freaked out. Who wouldn’t, having some sixteen-year-old throwing herself at you? He probably thinks I’m out of my mind.
    I finally walk up to the counter, and there, to my surprise, is Stewart, red-faced and wet.
    “Hey,” he says, out of breath. “Sorry I’m late.”
    “It’s okay,” I say.
    I buy my gum. Stewart waits for me. He’s wearing the same skinny jeans, the hoodie, the military coat.
    “I couldn’t get away,” he says. “That guy from the movie cornered me.”
    “Did he not want you to come?”
    “I didn’t tell him.”
    I give him a piece of gum. “People here are kind of crazy,” I say. “Have you noticed that?”
    “Yeah,” he says.
    Outside, we chew our gum. We stand by the door of the Rite Aid and stare into the dripping darkness. We look at each other and kind of just…look at each other.

18
    W e decide to walk to an Exxon station on Highway 19. It’s pretty far away. It takes about thirty minutes to walk there.
    We’re definitely not supposed to be that far from Spring Meadow, but neither of us mentions that.
    We have my one umbrella and I wouldn’t mind squeezing together under it but it’s not raining hard so Stewart pulls his hoodie over his head.
    There’s no streetlights out here in the country so it’s really dark, but our eyes get used to it