A Tragic Kind of Wonderful(59)
How does she even know? Doesn’t matter. “They were there at my house.”
“You got an intervention? I woke up alone strapped to a hospital bed. I got moved here when they saw what they pumped out of my stomach.”
I close my eyes.
“I guess that’s why you’re hiding, huh?” Sofia says.
“I’m not hiding,” I say. “I’m … locked up.”
“You still haven’t said why. It’s not for sightseeing on the bridge. You must have done something else.”
I can see this is going to be harder, and last longer, if I keep trying to dodge. I take a deep breath. “I ran to the bridge—”
“From here? Okay, that’s extreme, maybe, but not—”
“Barefoot. In my pajamas. After staying up all night.”
Sofia apparently has no snappy comeback to this. I keep my eyes closed and have no desire to fill the silence.
After another moment, she says, “Why?”
I don’t want to tell her about Nolan or the exact reason I chose that spot to run to, but I can say the part that’s not a secret anymore.
“I have bipolar disorder. Yesterday I did a really crappy job of hiding it, so the secret’s out. That’s why I’m here. Because now everybody knows I’m someone to treat differently. To keep an eye on. Can’t relax around. Can’t be themselves with. High maintenance.”
“Oh, so you think you’re like the Down’s syndrome kid now? The one people try to act normal around but can’t quite pull it off? The kid they’ll be nice to for a minute in the halls but don’t really want at the good parties?”
I don’t answer. I’m done.
A chair creaks and I hear footsteps. “Come over here,” Sofia says, her voice now off to my right.
I open my eyes. Sofia’s standing by a waist-high bookcase below the windows. I shrink in my chair and glance at Dr. Dharni.
“It’s okay,” he says.
I don’t want to … but … the path of least resistance …
Most of the view through the bars is parking lot out front and to the left … with trees and grass and flower beds to the right, and … a picnic. A big blanket, some bags, and two people. Zumi is lying sprawled out next to Connor sitting cross-legged with his laptop.
“This place takes people from all over the county,” Sofia says. “And we all look like drowned rats in here. I didn’t realize who you were till I saw the signs.”
Behind Connor stand two sandwich boards, the ones Zumi’s dad puts on street corners to advertise apartments for rent. One holds a sign that says, “WE LOVE YOU MEL!” with hearts drawn around it. The other sign is solid white with 48 written on it in black marker.
Zumi jumps up, grabs something, and erases the 48. They must be dry-erase boards. Then she leans back. Now the board reads 47.
“Get it?” Sofia says. “Forty-seven hours left on your seventy-two-hour hold.”
Zumi stands and stretches, arms straight over her head. She bends one way, then the other, and turns to face me— I squat behind the bookcase.
“Okay,” Sofia laughs. “Now you’re hiding.”
I sit down and push back against the books.
“I’ve seen other people out there, too. Maybe parents and grandparents? I get nothing. You have a welcome-home party on pause outside with a goddamn countdown.”
Sofia walks back to her chair and plops into it.
“You seem so … vanilla. I thought everyone was making a big deal over nothing, but bipolar disorder? Now I get why your feet are all gauzed up. Maybe you really do belong in here. Either that or you’re just another pathetic attention-seeking privileged white girl.”
Some choice.
HAMSTER IS RUNNING
HUMMINGBIRD IS FLYING
HAMMERHEAD IS SLOGGING
HANNIGANIMAL IS DOWN/MIXED
Midday on Friday, they give me a canvas bag from Mom holding clean clothes. I take the gauze off my feet and check that the scabs are fine before I change out of the hospital gown and into my street clothes.
In the big room, Lacey is wedged in a corner. Sofia stands at the window. I walk up next to her and look out at the empty lawn.
“Zumi and Connor around front?” Sofia asks.
“I don’t know where they are.”
The whole truth is more shameful. I asked Mom to tell them to leave. I can’t bear seeing anyone. I don’t want to stay locked up, but I also don’t want to leave this protected zone where it’s okay to be broken since everyone else is, too.
Sofia shakes her head. “So you get to go home. I guess you gave the doctors the right answers. Mine got me two more weeks. Who was that black woman? I’ve never seen her before.”
“A doctor I know on the outside. She helped them decide to let me out.”
“Jesus, how many doctors do you know?”
“You want me to recommend somebody?”
Sofia snorts.
“It’s not fair, how you get to leave when you’re the only one of us who actually belongs here. Lacey and me, we’re just addicts.”
“She’s in withdrawal? How do you know? She doesn’t go to our school and never talks.”
“She buys from my uncle.” Sofia glances at the clock. “Two minutes left. They do like following their rules. Good luck out there, tontita.”