Life on the Level (18 page)

People will believe what you want them to if you leave enough blanks. Life is just a big game of Mad Libs. I hate that Randy was the first person to come to mind, but I’m really reaching into blank space. From now on, Hutch and I need to be more careful. No more duets. No more staring at me like smoke slipping through his fingers. No more.

I have to throw Vilma off our scent. I don’t care what happens to me. I don’t want Hutch to lose his job. I know what I have to do, even if it means hurting him along the way.

I stare at the little blue pill for hours before I go to bed. Part of me wants to place it on my tongue and let the chemicals work their magic. But the part of me that spent an afternoon singing to sick kids tells me to flush it down the toilet. I place the pill back in its secret compartment, and shove the book under my mattress. I tell myself that it’s evidence for later. I’m not going to take it. I’ve been doing so well, even getting up to six hours of sleep a night.

Two days later, I still ache everywhere. I can feel the pills under my mattress, like they’re a pea and I’m the princess of the Kingdom of Addicts. I brush my teeth and wash the sleep off my face. I race down to the nurse’s office. If I had a tail, it would wag.

“Someone’s happy,” Nurse Jean says.

“Someone’s neck brace is coming off.”

She gets her supplies and has me sit down. I see Taylor pushing his mop down the hall. He winks in my direction, and it takes all of me to not give him the bird. I give him a fake smile, and he keeps walking. He’s like a vulture, the way he hangs around doors.

“If you feel any pain,” Nurse Jean says, “we’re putting it back on, you understand?”

“It doesn’t really hurt,” I say. “It just feels stiff. When can I ride again?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it for another week.”

I pout, but promise her I’ll be careful. When she takes the brace off, I feel like a whole new person. I stretch slightly from side to side.

“How do you feel?”

I take a deep breath. “Free.”

• • •

Back in my room, I dab on pink lip gloss and fluff my curls out. I find a bright blue, long-sleeved shirt with a deep neckline that accentuates my small boobs. It’s too cold for shorts, but my jeans fit like a glove. I head down to the cafeteria and pile eggs and bacon on a plate. I can feel heads turn in my direction as I look for my mark. The girls wave at me, but Randy, whose eyes linger on my cleavage, sticks a foot out to block my passing.

Rumors catch like wildfire. I know this from way back in high school. My reputation clung to me like cigarette smoke, and I did nothing to dissuade the whispers that carried my name. Most of the time, I took silent bets on the things people said about me. Who was River Thomas going to blow on prom night? Who was River Thomas going to make out with in the boy’s locker room? It didn’t matter that I didn’t date boys in high school, and I didn’t go to my prom because I dropped out of school beforehand. I just had a “look” about me. That’s the way people are, and here at rehab it’s no exception.

All they have to do is assume I’m “that kind of girl” and see me talk with a handsome guy, and the assumptions are all theirs to make. I wonder how long it’ll take before someone “sees” us fooling around in the elevator or by the stables.

“Where you going so fast, babycakes?” Randy asks.

“Are you going to offer me a seat, or what?”

Randy pats his lap. I take the seat beside him. When I look over my shoulder, Maddie, Vilma, Fran, and Julie are leaning in conspiratorially.

“How was your volunteering?” I ask.

“Who cares? I’m just glad it was a one-and-done thing. I think I might’ve caught something from those old geezers.”

“Charming.”

Randy is incredibly attractive. His hair is like polished gold, and his eyes are a darker blue than mine. He’s got a smile that would be certified in panty dropping, and he’s not shy about pulling up his shirt and showing off his tight abs. Still, he doesn’t do it for me. I’m more sexually attracted to my breakfast than I am to Randy. Still, I have to put on a show to keep the heat off Hutch and me. This rumor won’t ruin someone’s life, just my reputation, and I don’t care about that.

“So,” he says. “You want to take me up on my offer?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Just a night you’ll never forget.” He traces my cheekbone with his finger.

I stop myself from laughing. I hate when guys try so hard. Is it terrible that I almost feel sorry for him?

When I look up, Hutch is walking across the cafeteria with his breakfast. He’s looking at us. He picks the first table in front of him and sits down, glancing in our direction every now and then. I take a deep breath.

“Aren’t you in here for sex addiction?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I’m in here for a lot of things.”

“You’re not still mad I punched you?”

“Nah,” he says, smiling. For a moment, his facade falls. He’s just a cute guy trying to flirt. “I deserved it. How about it? Let me make it up to you. I’ve been told I have an excellent tongue.”

He leans into my shoulder, which makes someone whistle across the room. I try not to pay attention to the heads that are turning in our direction. I try not to pay attention to Hutch staring at us.

“Tomorrow night?”

“3F?” I ask. Suddenly, I want to abort this plan. My heart hammers in my throat and my legs start to shake.

Randy smiles. I kiss his cheek, and take my tray to the garbage. Then I head out to the courtyard and breathe deeply, trying to draw strength from the clean mountain air.

• • •

I know I have to explain to Hutch what my plan is. I also need him to get some things for the Halloween party. He wasn’t at the cafeteria for lunch or playing basketball with Simmons. I find him reading a book in his office.

The halls are clear, so I walk right in and shut the door behind me. He glances in my direction and then goes back to some Dennis Lehane novel that looks well-loved and worn. I sit in a plush leather chair across from him. We don’t speak. I can practically feel his mind racing with questions.

There’s a giant clock on the wall. I can hear it
tick tick ticking
the minutes away. I alternate between looking at the floor, Hutch’s jeans, the clock, the door, the turning pages, and Hutch’s lips. No, look at the clock again.

I decide to break the silence. I grab the book from his hands and toss it to the side. “Are you going to talk or are you going to sulk until I go away?”

His features are controlled. He’s reaching for whatever shrink training he might’ve had, but failing. “Okay, let’s talk. What was that this morning?”

I wrinkle my brow. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the show you were putting on with Randy.”

“First of all, we didn’t put on a show. He was just getting too close. Second of all, what I do isn’t your business.”

“All the counselors saw you.” He says it with disdain. I can hear the pain in his words, and I wish I could retrace my steps this morning. “Relationships between patients are against the rules.”

“So are relationships between counselors and patients.”

“That’s not fair. You know how I feel about you.” He shakes his head, tapping his pen on his blank notepad. “Do you know that it only took seconds for people to start talking about you and
Randy?
”

I wish I could smile at his jealously. “Isn’t it better if people talk about me and Randy than if they talk about me and you?”

He looks up. His pen is still. “What do you mean?”

“Yesterday. Vilma basically told me that the girl you were talking about during lunch was me. Really smooth, Hutch. The day I fell off the horse, Taylor tried to help me off my saddle. I didn’t want his help, but he made it seem like I was waiting for you. I’m not trying to hurt you, but I also know how important your job is to you. What would happen if you got fired because of me?”

“I’d find another job.”

“Not as a counselor. Not if anything about us got on your record. You
know
no one can find out about this.”

“Are you sure you’re trying to protect me and not you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighs. Sets his notepad to the side. He clenches his jaw so tight, the muscles there ripple. “I mean you’re afraid of the things I said the other day. You’re afraid of letting me too close. You said so yourself. I don’t want the answer to be jumping into—”

“Randy’s bed? You can’t be my boyfriend, Hutch. You’re not allowed to be.”

“Don’t sabotage this.”

“You think I’m afraid because you said I was the only girl you’ve fucked this year?” I scoff. “I’m trying to do what’s best here.”

“For who? And how? By sleeping with Randy?”

My nostrils flare. “I’m not going to sleep with Randy.”

“River, please. Don’t do me any favors.”

“I have to. I owe you. You saved my life up on that cliff. You carried me to the hospital when I fell off my horse. I owe you for so much, I can’t even begin to pay you back.”

“I’m not keeping a running tab for you. I’m doing these things because I care about you, River. Why is it so hard for you to let me care about you?”

“Because!” I stand up, pushing the chair back. I pace back and forth.

“That’s not an answer. You and I keep going back and forth—I try to protect you; you try to protect me. We’re going around in circles, and the only thing we’ve accomplished so far is more distance.”

He stands and closes the space between us so quickly, I gasp. His hands hover over my shoulders. He’s afraid to touch me. He should be. I’m a wildfire. I burn everything in my path. But I see the decision in his earth-brown eyes. He decides to hold me.

I close my eyes and breathe in his scent—leather and grass and coffee. His hands trail down my arms, holding my wrists with his palms. He brings my hands to his lips and kisses each one. He turns them over, kisses the inside of my wrists. I feel like I’m being stretched too thin. I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore. I never used to care, but I care now.

I open my eyes. His stare is too much for me. I try to look away, but he cups my face with his hands. His touch is firm, but tender.

“Why are you afraid to look at me?” he whispers.

I glance at the closed door behind us. If someone were to come in, it would be over. Yet, I can’t pull away. I hold him tighter. I wrap my arms around his waist. Press my hands against the hard muscles of his back.

“Because I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. It’s freaking me out.”

He smirks. He thumbs my jawline, sending shivers down my skin. “You don’t have to freak out alone. You don’t have to protect us alone.”

I pull back. “Now you know how I felt seeing you with the nurse.”

He graces me with his brilliant smile. “I wouldn’t take you for the jealous type.”

“I’m not. Mostly because I’ve never cared before.” I trace my fingers down his spine.

“Jealousy is normal,” he says. “But it’s not healthy. I don’t like to lose my cool that way.”

“Relax, Dr. Shrink. Just be yourself.”

“I am being myself.”

“I mean you don’t have to be a counselor with me.” That’s the magic word. It pulls us back to the wrongness, the reality of this. We let go and unhook ourselves from each other. He’s two feet away, but it feels like miles.

He sits back, gripping the arms of his chair tightly. “Fine. I’ve wanted to smash Randy’s brains in ever since you made his nose bleed. I hate that you kissed him.”

“His cheek.”

“I don’t care where. I hate it. I hated seeing you with him.”

“You’re not my boyfriend, Hutch.”

“But I want to be.” His stare is unwavering. I force myself to hold on. “I’ve never felt this way about another woman. The more I get to know you, the less I care about losing everything.”

I feel dizzy. My mouth is dry. “Don’t be reckless. We have to be smart about this. We can have it all. You just have to trust me. Can you do that?”

He clears his throat. He leans forward. “Yes. I can. I will. What do you want me to do?”

“I’m going to go to Randy tomorrow night.”

He shuts his eyes and looks down. “Absolutely not.”

“I just need people to see me going down the corridor. I’m not going to do anything with him. I’ll stand him up. But I know guys like him. He’s going to save face. He’s going to make up all kinds of things about me.”

“I don’t like this.”

“You haven’t even heard about what you’re going to do.”

His eyes widen. He licks his lips. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to leave here and go on a date.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. Or at least
tell
people you are. You know who the gossip mills are. You also have to stay away from me for a little while. I mean it, Hutch. You’re always there when I need help. It’ll get noticeable.”

“This is either a really smart plan,” he says, “or the most elaborate ruse to blow me off ever.”

I get out of my seat and kiss him hard and fast. I forgot how sensitive my neck still is, but I don’t care. I lose track of time as Hutch kisses me back. His lips taste my lips and his tongue finds my tongue. I rest my knees on either side of him, and the armchair groans with our weight. His hands grab my ass and squeeze so hard, I cry out. I’m so wet I could put the Clark Fork River to shame.

I stand back, placing a hand over my heart. I sit back just as someone knocks on the door. One of the temp counselors. Hutch clears his throat, but keeps his notepad over his crotch area.

“Hey, Simmons. We’re just wrapping up here. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to go over the camping trip. You got a sec?”

“I’ll just be going,” I say, hoping Simmons doesn’t notice the redness on my lips. I pull out a piece of paper from the back of my jeans. “Here’s the list of supplies we need.”

“River Thomas, right?” Simmons asks. I nod. “I’m Dr. Simmons.” He holds his clipboard up. “Have you signed up for the camping trip?”

“I don’t really have any camping stuff.”

“Oh, we provide it. I can put you down—spaces fill up quickly. Last month Hutch and I did a great campfire medley. I heard about your singing at the Children’s hospital.”