Part 27 (2/2)

”Thanks,” I said, because I couldn't think what else to say.

Rawe watched me while I opened it. Indicating that even if she hadn't read it, she was still interested in seeing what it said via my face. I tried my best to keep my mouth tight as I opened the note, fold by fold by fold, and read: You need to forgive yourself It wasn't addressed to me and it wasn't signed, which made me wonder if Troyer had written it as much as a reminder for herself as for me. That was it, one line in the middle of a sheet of paper.

I knew it was true. I knew that last night was the first step. Without her, I just wasn't sure what the next step was.

”You okay?” Rawe asked.

”Fine,” I said, folding the note back up, as tight as Troyer had.

”Do you still want to use marijuana?” Rawe asked, like we had just been talking about that.

”What?” I asked, dropping the note on the bed. It fell like a rock.

”I'm trying to see if our program worked,” Rawe said, like that made more sense. ”Do you still want to use marijuana?”

”If the program worked?” I laughed, but not because it was funny.

”I'm supposed to ask,” she said.

”And you're choosing now?”

”We're alone,” she said, looking at the closed bathroom door. ”And it's not like you were open to any of my other invitations to talk.”

Awesome. She hadn't sent Nez to the shower to punish her. She'd sent her to the shower to punish me.

I shook my head. ”Marijuana, no.” I couldn't help laughing again. Prom night seemed so far away now. I was a different girl then. That was the girl she should have been asking, not me.

”Great.” Rawe smiled. Her smile wasn't soothing or pleasant. It kind of made it look like there was no skin left on her face.

”Yeah, great,” I said. I picked up the note and unfolded it and refolded it.

”There's something else?” Rawe asked.

Maybe she had read the note.

”You keep asking me to talk,” I said. ”What about you?”

”We're not talking about me,” she said, what all adults say when they are too afraid to answer your question.

”What are we talking about?” I asked.

”Okay, I'll tell you my name,” Rawe said.

”Not good enough,” I said.

”You haven't heard it yet.” She crossed her hands over her knees.

I waited.

”f.a.n.n.y,” she said.

”f.a.n.n.y Rawe,” I replied.

”Yup,” she nodded. ”Bad, right?”

I laughed. I couldn't help it.

”School was-” She paused and flipped her braid from one shoulder to the other. ”Not fun.” She smiled her skin-ripping smile, looked down, and rubbed her hands against her thighs like she was gearing up for something. Like what she was about to tell me was something she needed generated energy to say. ”People don't really like me much,” she said, still looking down. ”I guess I work with kids like you because your reasons for hating me have nothing to do with me personally.”

It was weird, but hearing her say that reminded me of what I did with my words and fists and anger. I was afraid people wouldn't like me, so I made them hate me. I made them fear me.

”I get it,” I said.

”I know there are things you don't want to tell me,” she said. ”I understand, Ca.s.sie, I do. I just hope you'll choose to tell someone, someday.”

”Thanks,” I said.

She smiled, like she was surprised that I hadn't shut her down again. I guess I was, too.

”Words aren't magic,” Rawe said, ”but talking, opening up can be.”

”I know,” I said and I did. Rawe might be the one saying it, but it was Troyer who made me understand. Rawe meant well, but she wasn't cut out for this like Troyer was. I guess Troyer had her parents' genes. Wherever she ended up, I hoped she decided to do something to help other people, because she was good at it.

The bathroom door opened and we jumped.

Nez walked out and looked at Rawe, at me. It was obvious the words we had said were hanging in the room like smoke, making the room smell.

”You guys done making out or what?” Nez asked, twirling her towel into a turban on top of her head.

”Yes,” Rawe said, getting up, stopping to squeeze my shoulder and then entering the steamy bathroom. ”We're done.”

I opened the note that Troyer gave me. Rawe might have thought I needed to talk to someone else to heal, but I knew I needed to start with myself. I needed to say and keep saying three words.

I forgive you.

When Nez and Rawe left the room to have their own Are you cured? talk, I picked up the phone on the nightstand and dialed my brother's cell. I had to have some idea of what was waiting for me when I landed.

”Tim, it's me,” I said when he answered in his This better not be a telemarketer or I'm going to kick someone's a.s.s voice.

”Ca.s.s, where are you?” Ca.s.s. My brother was the only one who ever called me Ca.s.s.

Ever.

”Some hotel,” I said. I looked at the pad on the dresser. Actually it was the Holiday Inn at the Arcata Airport. I wondered how many other people had used this phone in the same way I was-to figure out what was waiting for them on the outside. Maybe a guy who had been kicked out of his house for cheating on his wife. Like me, he was trying to figure out what s.h.i.+t was waiting for him if he was actually allowed to go home.

Except I was more than allowed to go home, I was being f.u.c.king forced to go home.

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