Page 114 of Deliverance

For the first time in a very long time, I don’t know what to say.

How do you save someone who doesn’t want to be saved?

19 Drew

“We havea couple of fresh faces today,” Reagan says, her voice a mix of kind and fierce. Such a wonderful combination. Sometimes, I think she doesn’t understand how precious her gift is.

We’re seated in a circle in the conference room, and a few chairs are pushed back. Usually, newbies who still aren’t sure if these meetings are something they can handle tend to hide behind the regulars.

“So why don’t we start with introducing ourselves,” Reagan goes on. “You don’t have to stand up.”

One by one, we make acquaintances. It’s all very informal and there’s even laughter. Some of us, those who’ve been coming here long enough, feel relaxed.

Tonight, I’m not one of those people. I’m overwhelmed and nervous because of my trip with Zander in two days and I constantly find myself wanting to call him and persuade him to tell me where exactly we’re going.

“I promise, you’ll have a good time,” he told me when we spoke on the phone last week. “All you need to do is bring something nice and warm to wear.”

“And a toothbrush?”

“And a toothbrush. We’ll stay the night.”

Thisstay-the-nighttidbit is what worries me the most. He reassured me he would be a gentleman, but it’s all so vague and so…exciting.

“Drew,” Santiago mumbles out of the side of his mouth, then kicks the leg of my chair with his sneaker.

“Oh, sorry.” I turn my head left and right and realize I got carried away and forgot where I was. “Hi, everyone. My name is Drew.”

“Hi, Drew.” An array of voices respond back, some familiar and some new.

We move to the next person and then the next one and the next one until everyone has had a chance to speak up.

When the introductions are over, Reagan takes a second to talk about the upcoming holiday season and then asks if anyone wants to share anything.

I glance at the circle, wondering if Pam is coming back soon. She was supposed to visit her family in Northern California. Jack is here. So is Mack. Today he brought a box of cookies his boyfriend baked.

Off to the side, there’s a fresh pot of coffee and its smell wafts over to me from across the room as a reminder that the little things are just as important in life as the big ones.

My gaze lands on Preston, the girl who first showed up on Mack’s birthday. She’s wearing her usual—a leather jacket and a pair of ripped jeans. Her dark brown hair falls forward, covering a good portion of her face, and if my memory serves me right, she hasn’t spoken yet. So far, she’s just been listening and absorbing.

Two years ago, that was me.

Sometimes, I think it’s still me. Terrified and unsure of what tomorrow holds.

“Anyone else want to share?” Reagan asks after Shanti is finished talking. She’s been coming to this group for over a year and was the very first volunteer to work with me onScars.

The question is met with loaded silence.

Preston bites into her thumb and drops her gaze to the floor.

“This is a safe space,” Reagan reassures. A small smile graces her lips.

More silence.

“I’ll share,” I say, my voice suddenly hoarse, my heart pounding.

Santiago shifts to look at me, something gleaming in his green eyes. Surprise maybe.

A low murmur passes through the room and I feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment, but then I meet Preston’s gaze. Her index finger is now pressed to her lips, her jaw clenched. She doesn’t blink for what seems like the longest moment.

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