Page 92 of The Glass Girl

They’re brightly colored and scattered all around. Brandy sinks into one. “I’m not going to make it. Hauling balls, making food, cleaning. I’m not going to last. I’m literally going to die. This is the worst place I’ve ever rehabbed. The last place we got to keep our phones and I could make TikToks in the bathroom. They got a lot of views. I have no idea what’s happening in the world without my phone.”

Kids are filing into the room, plopping down onto bags. I find a yellow one by Charlotte and Holly. I like Holly. She’s interesting and sad. She reminds me of Dawn.

Fran is in her own beanbag, hands folded in her lap. She waits until everyone is comfortable.

“Just to go over the format, for our newbies,” she says. “What do we do in group?”

Charlotte raises her hand. “It’s a safe space to talk and work out problems.”

She kind of singsongs it.

“Whatdon’twe do?” Frans asks.

Lara says, “Talk over other people, invalidate their emotions and experiences.”

I feel like I’m learning a whole new language in this place.Invalidate. Safe space.

“Do wehaveto share?” Fran asks.

Some kid, I can’t remember his name from breakfast, says, “No, but if you keep stuff bottled up, it’s not going to help with your recovery.”

I wonder how many of these kids are just repeating what they know they should say, just to get on with this and get out of here, and how many really believe it. I’m pretty sure Charlotte is just playing a game. No one can be this perfect. But I guess I’ll try to get out of here in one piece and get home, and once I do that, I know I can do better. I messed up, but I can make sure that doesn’t happen again. I just have to be more careful.

I’m not sure I’m like everyone else here. Like Holly, shoving things up herself and then swallowing half of them in one go.

“Right,” Fran says. “Because one thing I think we all had in common, out there in the so-called real world, is that sometimes we never told anyone how we were really feeling, if wewere struggling. If we needed help. With even the little stuff, like schoolwork.”

“Homework isn’t little, it’s enormous,” Nick-with-the-braids says. “It’s, like, everything to my parents.”

“Being healthy is more important than a grade,” Fran says. “Don’t you think?”

“Try telling that to my dad,” Lara says, shaking her head. “He never even finished high school. I’m his second chance.”

Fran nods. “Sometimes the expectations of our parents are overwhelming, it’s true. Trying to live up to what they want.”

She looks around the room. “Who are our newcomers? Introduce yourselves, with as little or as much as you want.”

Silence, then Billy, on a purple beanbag, sighs really loudly. “I’m Billy and I drink and take pills. Is that good?”

“Perfect,” Fran says.

I fold my arms across my chest. I can feel my heart starting tothump­thump­thump­thumpat having to speak in front of so many people.

Beside me, Holly clears her throat. “I’m Holly. I’m here because…I do a lot of stuff.”

On cue, all the kids say, in unison, “Like what, Holly?”

Holly looks taken aback. “Um, you know. Oxy. Pain pills. Pot. You know, whatever is around. I don’t really drink, though.”

Silence.

“Fine,” Brandy says. “I’m Brandy. I drink and I like it. I don’t think it’s a big deal. Everybody drinks. How can you not? It’s everywhere. My mom has, like, a bottle of wine before dinner. You can’t get away from it.”

Gideon nods, shaved head gleaming under the ceiling light. “That’s true. Parents will buy it for you, for a party.”

“They will drinkwithyou,” Marshall says.

People are nodding.

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