Chasing Impossible (Pushing the Limits, #5)(98)

Don’t worry, I won’t do anything stupid again.

Tell Noah thanks for the shrink. No, really, thank him for me. He’ll think I’m being sarcastic, but I like her. She listens to my stories. All of them. The ones I make up. The ones I don’t. She even laughs at all the right places and it’s not a fake laugh, but a real one.

She even likes to talk about what I think aliens would look like. People who play along are cool. She’s sort of cool, but she’s starting to ask about my mom and I’m not sure I want to talk to her about that yet. Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t, but I like that she’s okay when I don’t.

Sleeping is tough and it’s tougher to get through this without good sleep. Sort of hard for me to close my eyes and trust that everything is okay. I lie awake for hours and stare at the ceiling. Thinking about Grams, Dad, you, my past and future choices. I miss sleeping. First thing I want to do when I get out of here is sleep.

I still love you,

Abby

To: Abby

From: Logan

Re: I’m still alive

Date: October 15

Abby,

God, it’s good to hear from you. I never lost faith in you, though. I knew I would hear from you. Knew you’d figure yourself out. It all goes back to having faith in you like you have faith in me. I don’t have to see you to know you care. You don’t I have to see me to know that I love you.

Noah sent in Mrs. Collins when we all stopped receiving emails. She’s a social worker he knows and he just wanted to see if she could find something out. He didn’t know she would actually talk to you. He says good things about her. So do a lot of other people. They trust her so I think you can, too.

Let’s go for fifty brand-new things. Losing pisses me off.

I still love you, too.

Logan





Abby

“What do you think?” I hold up the plastic ornament I painted and Mrs. Collins purses her lips together. Today’s December 23 and Logan told me he plans on visiting tomorrow. “It’s my Christmas present to Logan. Considering my gift-giving options are limited, this is all I’ve got.”

“It looks good,” she says, taking in the glob of red and brown that’s supposed to be a reindeer-bunny hybrid. Mrs. Collins is blonde, is one of those naturally perky people, and she has killer taste in bands according to her T-shirt collection.

“I think you’re full of shit. I’m definitely not a painter or ornament maker.”

“I have a client who would tell you that art is in the eye of the beholder.” Mrs. Collins sits in the couch across from me in the private therapy room.

I’m lying on my couch because that’s what people do on TV when they see a shrink. She explained I didn’t have to do that, but I told her I wanted the full-on experience.

I rest the ornament on the table and link my fingers over my stomach and stare at the ceiling. “I’m betting that client is Echo, and she can say that because she’s insanely talented in art. Trust me, I’m not a painter.”

Noah proposed to Echo before she left for Colorado and she accepted...without a diamond ring. I won’t lie—I feel guilty about that, but Noah told me not to worry. He emailed me with the news and said that Echo’s cool waiting on a ring. Said she was just fine with him asking. I’ve seen the two of them together and I believe him. Echo doesn’t care about stuff like that.

“So if you aren’t a painter, what are you?” Mrs. Collins asks.

Logan and I tore through fifty new things through October and November and we’ve started on number one hundred. “I like baking. Thanks by the way. For helping me get into those classes.”

That volunteer, it turns out, visits once a week, and through Mrs. Collins I’m baking every Thursday.

“There’s a culinary school here in Louisville that you might want to check out. I can find you an application if you want.”

I’m silent as I stare at the ceiling and finally work up the courage to ask. “Will they consider me since I’m a convicted drug dealer and have spent the past few months in a detention center? I know my records will be sealed since I’m a minor, but won’t they figure out I was here?”

Mrs. Collins shifts and I sit up. This chick is rock solid on body language and when she does anything out of the ordinary, it means Mars is about to collide with Earth.

“What?” I ask.

“I know you made certain demands with your arrest.”

“Uh-huh.” Don’t liking where this is headed.

“You’ve been a model inmate, Abby.”

“I broke things.”

“Because you lost your grandmother and you were grieving. Everyone knows this.”

I’m immediately shaking my head. “No one is allowed to put me up for early release. Give it to my roommate. She could solve the drought in the West with the amount of tears this chick has shed.” I place a hand on my chest. “And I lost my grandmother. What does that say?”

“You’ve used the resources here wisely. The staff all sees how you’re working to improve yourself.”

“Yep. Improve. So I need to stay and improve some more.”

“What are you scared about with leaving here?”

“Nothing.” I stand and begin to pace, thinking of Logan when he’s angry.