The Believing Game (30 page)

“We haven't talked about it, actually,” I said. Joshua launched an apology, but I cut him off at the pass. “Of course not — Addison's fears are completely reasonable. After all, so many people rely on him. He doesn't need another person to nurse back to health. Besides, we're what? Sixteen and eighteen? We both should have some reservations.” I smiled and stabbed one more time. “You know, I'm working hard to figure out the eating piece. I'm sure you didn't intend this, but hearing you predict my weight gain makes it harder to actually sit down and make healthy choices.”

Joshua's eyes flashed. He wasn't going down without a fight. “Certainly I apologize. I meant that in jest. But it was inappropriate, considering how much you fear gaining weight.”

“Not as much as I fear losing other things.” I smiled at him and rested my head on Addison's shoulder. Addison shifted to press his thigh against mine in the booth. Then I picked up my pizza and ate, letting the strings of cheese stretch from my mouth to the slice. Full-on knockout.

Joshua retreated to small talk. He spoke about a few patients he'd met in the hospital's outpatient clinic who he thought would benefit from his ministry. My skin crawled to realize that his fabricated illness had led him to his next hunting ground. Even if Sophie and I could ever manage to excise Joshua from the McCracken Hill Academy, he'd probably remain right up the road — running support groups and preying on the even more vulnerable.

I noticed Addison watching Joshua carefully through the meal. Studying him. He kept a smile positioned on his face the whole time and dutifully rose to refill glasses and take care of the check, but his eyes had darkened with concern. And while Joshua drank a cup of coffee, Addison asked if he was set for money. They rarely discussed financial details in front of me. I concentrated on nibbling my pizza crust. Joshua tipped his chin — thinking, maybe calculating. “Brother, that's not a burden I want to see you take on.”

“No burden. You doing okay? I know you haven't been working as much.”

“It's the standing at that register. The doctor's amazed I've tolerated it this long.”

“Right. So should I put something together?”

“It shames me to rely on others.” Addison didn't argue or coax him. He just waited. Finally Joshua relented. “Yes. I must humble myself if others are willing to contribute.”

Addison only smiled at me and spoke reassuringly. “I'm sure they are. We usually have to fight them off, right, Greer?”

“You'd be surprised at how many people want to help. You have that effect on people.” I tried to will warmth into my smile.

We all stood to leave, and then Addison said, “I think Greer's going to head back to school after this and I'll walk you to the hospital myself.”

“No, I can go.” I panicked, imagining the damage that Joshua could inflict on the quick walk from Sal's to the outpatient clinic. I couldn't afford to free up time for him to attack.

But Joshua waved Add off. “You should both walk back to school. They've suspended treatments for now. To give me a chance to build back up my strength.”

“Are you positive?” Addison looked from Joshua to me. And back again.

“Of course.”

Addison ventured, “Well, that's a good thing that they feel they can allow you a break from treatment. Which doctor said that?”

Joshua pretended to think about it a second. “I don't remember. They're all the same to me.”

“You have a different doctor each time?”

“Yeah. Makes it hard to remember.”

I thought Addison might press more, but instead he said, “Well, whichever doctor decided, it must mean your numbers are good.”

Your imaginary numbers,
I thought to myself.

Joshua wheezed and reached for the door. “Hopefully. I don't want anyone throwing in the towel for me.”

“Well, they can't do that, right?” Addison said. “I mean, they have to let you fight on?”

“I'm just an old, poor, black man, brother. A junkie on
the rebound. No one likes to see a man like me fight. Not unless I'm laced into gloves, taking swings, and they're placing bets down at Atlantic City.” Joshua glowered at me. I swore I could feel heat on my face from his gaze. “No one should bet against me, though. Right, Elizabeth? I always come out on top.”

I don't know what I was thinking. It just bubbled out. “Should we call you a cab? Or do you already have the number?”

“Thank you for your concern, Elizabeth.”

“You always understand just how I feel.” Every word that passed between us felt weighted down with resentment.

Addison just stood off to the side, watching. Then he stepped in between us. “It sounds like you have it under control, Joshua. I love you, brother. Always. I'll see you.”

“You two get home safely. Don't go starting any trouble.” Joshua addressed Addison, but his words were meant for me. When we started back up the hill, we both stayed quiet. It didn't feel like the taut silence that usually stretched between us after times with Joshua, though. This time the air around us felt easier to breathe.

He believes me,
I let myself think. Maybe he'd even had doubts all along. Maybe he and I could navigate the rocky path back around Joshua's ego and influence together.

“You all right?” he asked me, when we reached the black scrollwork of the iron gates.

“We all right?” I asked back.

“Of course.” As if that were a given.

“Then I'm all right.”

I draped my arms around his neck and tried to pull him close but Addison stepped back, just a little. “Greer, Greer — my best year.”

“What was?”

“This.” He gestured to McCracken Hill, then to me.

“A little pitiful, Addison Bradley.” I thought of the cold dread when I realized my parents could just abandon me. The bare room that looked like every other bare room on campus. The condescending hours spent being dissected by the treatment team. But. I remembered Addison stomping into lit class that first day. Sophie and I giggling about our descent into sluttery — someone finally understood me. I thought of the cabin and the bowling alley and the sense of belonging I felt when we all stood around Addison, singing. I even thought about Joshua, the rush of having someone name me, choose me. “Pitiful,” I repeated. “But, just so you know — me too.”

He brushed his lips over my forehead, rested his hands lightly on my shoulders, and then stepped out of the circle we'd made with our arms. “You okay to get back to the dorm?”

“Yeah — it's fine.”

He nodded and still didn't move away. Then he turned abruptly.

“Hey — I love you!” I called after him.

He spun around and kept walking backward, calling out softly, “Greer, I love you always. See you.”

I rushed off to tell Sophie that he might have finally come around. That he might finally believe us. I didn't even notice that Addison had said good night to me with almost the same words he had spoken to Joshua.

I didn't realize it until late into the next morning, when word spread across campus that Addison Bradley had disappeared.

The whispers started in statistics class. Honestly, it reminded me of school back home. Clusters of girls speaking softly and stealing glances, the sly and knowing looks of the guys. I thought maybe word had somehow gotten out about Hannah, but even that didn't make so much sense. Not even at my most teenage-delinquent had I managed to knock someone else up. One of the Allisons sat to the right of me, and I caught her smirking smugly.

I thought maybe Joshua had done something. Called the deans or started preaching my shame in the quad, but really, I felt ready for any of that. And then the bell toned. I hung back in the hall, waiting up for Addison, but he didn't come striding down the corridor. Maybe then I felt a ripple — like a tiny pebble had skipped across my heart. Addison had a lot to consider, though. Maybe he'd set up a meeting with his treatment team; they might have even invited his family in for a session.

I made sure to stroll casually into lit class and ignored the slight surge of murmurs. I took my usual seat and tried not to notice Addison's empty desk. And after class, when Dr. Rennie asked me kindly, “How are you doing, Greer?” I assumed he was thinking about our last conversation.

“Okay, thanks. Remember what we talked about? I might be able to convince him to come speak to you now — if that
would still be okay.” Dr. Rennie looked quizzical and began shuffling papers on his desk. “Addison. He's probably ready to come talk.”

“Greer, I'm glad to hear that. But I'm not sure if any of us are in a position to help any longer.”

That skipped pebble grew into a stone, embedded in my chest. “What does that mean?”

He pulled out a sheet of paper — the morning's daily bulletin. He pointed to the absence list and then the name typed in bold opposite of that. “Addison was released from McCracken Hill.”

“I don't understand.” I could barely breathe. The stone had grown into a boulder. It crushed my lungs.

“It sounds like he didn't have a chance to tell you.”

“He wouldn't just leave.”

“People don't always know how to handle saying good-bye.”

“He wouldn't just leave me. You don't understand. This doesn't make sense. Did you know they were planning this? I mean, is this how it works?”

“No, I didn't know. But that's not unusual if I'm not a member of a student's team. Sometimes these decisions are made very quickly —”

“Who makes them?”

Dr. Rennie drummed his fingers on his desk. “It depends. That involves a lot of factors.” I sat down in the seat beside his desk. “Addison's treatment team might have come to the conclusion that he'd made enough progress. Or not enough progress. Sometimes parents transfer students home and sometimes the students themselves make that call. Greer, even if I knew, some of this counts as confidential information.
You and Addison were very close; maybe he will write a letter and explain it all. When he's ready.”

“Maybe he'll write me a letter?”

“You know what I'm telling you.” I just sat there, staring. Finally Dr. Rennie sighed. “I can take you to see the dean. Maybe she can give us some more information. We could set up an appointment.” I lowered my face. “Or we can just drop in now and see what she'll tell us.” I looked up. “Okay?”

That's how I ended up waiting outside of Dean Edwards's office with my English teacher instead of having lunch with my adoring boyfriend and our close circle of loyal, well-balanced friends. The administrative building looked like a cross between a hotel lobby and a museum — lots of mahogany, leather books, and intricate Oriental rugs that felt thick beneath my feet. Dr. Rennie and I sat down in red antique chairs that looked like they might barely hold our weight.

“Greer Cannon?” Dean Edwards stood in the doorway to her office. “I'm sorry to keep you waiting — we've had a full morning today. Why don't you come in and sit down? Would you like Dr. Rennie to accompany you?” I shrugged. “Well, that's a choice for you to make.” She turned purposefully back to her office.

“Shall we go in?” Dr. Rennie asked, standing.

Dean Edwards had already sat down behind her enormous desk. She gestured for us to sit. “How can I help you, Greer?” It felt like I sat there silently for several minutes.

After a while, Dr. Rennie coughed and said, “I think Greer has some ques —”

“Greer needs to ask those questions herself. That's part of pursuing empowerment.”

“Why did you send Addison Bradley home?” I asked.

Dean Edwards sat back and unleashed the spiel. “I'm sure you're aware that McCracken Hill is a fairly unique learning institution. Our goal actually isn't to graduate all of our students. The best-case scenario is when a student returns home to complete his or her education in a traditional school setting.”

“He wasn't ready to go home, though.”

“I know the two of you were very close. We've felt concerned about that. Maybe we can all see this as a teachable moment and use it to give you the chance to focus more fully on Greer.”

“So you kicked him out because of me?”

“Ms. Cannon, I assure you, this is not a case of anyone being kicked out of McCracken Hill.”

“So all of a sudden, you just packed Addison up and sent him home to his overwhelmed parents and his addict brother? I know you couldn't have had time to prepare him at all. He was dealing with a lot of crap — I mean, a lot of changes — especially last night. He needs support — he needs people who care about him. He needs —”

“Addison signed himself out of treatment, Greer.”

“That's not true.”

“I'm sorry that this has shocked you, and I do understand that you're probably experiencing a myriad of emotions right now. However, legally, there's not much more I can say. At eighteen, he has the legal right to decide which school he will attend, if he attends school at all. Unless we thought Addison was a danger to himself or anyone else, it is not within our purview to stop him.”

“Did he tell you about Joshua?” I fought to keep my voice calm.

“Joshua?”

“Joshua Stern — he's the man who — I don't know — controls Addison. Did he pick him up? Can you at least tell me that?” My voice pitched up toward the end of my question and I struggled to bring it back to nonhysterical range.

“This is Addison Bradley's Narcotics Anonymous sponsor?” she asked me and then turned her gaze on Dr. Rennie, who appeared to wish he'd stayed behind in his classroom, grading
Beowulf
papers. “No one consulted Mr. Stern about this. To my knowledge, Addison came to this decision on his own.”

“No one picked him up?”

Dean Edwards spoke carefully. “At this point, we're delving into private aspects that should remain private. Just as I would do my best to maintain your confidentiality, I need to respect Addison's wishes.”

“He asked you not to tell me?”

“Addison refused follow-up care,” she said, which told me nothing. “I can imagine how difficult this is, Greer. You've made tremendous progress here at McCracken Hill, though, and I ask you to remember that. From what I've observed, Addison is a caring young man. It's clear the two of you have forged a strong connection. Ultimately every individual here is responsible for his or her own recovery. You understand that.”

I'd had enough of the official McCracken Hill pamphlet talk. My voice sounded hollowed out. “May I please return to my friends now?” Dean Edwards tilted her head at me, so I tossed in a token “I don't mean to be disrespectful.”

She glanced at Dr. Rennie and said, “I'd be happy to accompany Greer to her next scheduled engagement.” She waited and then tapped the tip of her pen against her desk.

“Oh — oh sure. That's great. That's all right, Greer? You'll be okay?” Dr. Rennie stumbled over his words as he rushed to pick up his raincoat and wrap his scarf around his neck.

“We're fine, Dr. Rennie. Greer and I both appreciate your concern and outreach” — she lowered her reading glasses to peer at him — “sincerely.” She waited until he closed the door shut behind him.

“How are you?” This stellar effort at building rapport was apparently how the dean earned the big bucks and fancy office.

“Fine. Thank you.”

“Greer?”

“I feel abandoned. May I go to lunch now?”

“Sometimes it's enough to just give people time.”

“And you think he'll come back?” I couldn't keep the hope out of my voice.

“No, Addison will not be returning to McCracken Hill.” She seemed genuinely sad. “But there's a whole world outside of these gates. I know you know that. The best advice I can give you is to keep staying strong for yourself. I won't tell you about all the other young men you'll come across or how it'll get easier. Addison certainly seems like one of a kind.” She smiled at me. “But then again, so do you.”

I appreciated the sentiment. But truthfully, the only thing extraordinary about me was Addison. Now I was just another girl left by another boy. Starting then I was just sad — which didn't really feel a whole lot different from how I arrived.

“Thank you for taking the time.”

“I wish I could provide more clarity. You mentioned Addison's sponsor, Mr. Stern. Anything I need to know?”

What was the point? Addison had either chosen Joshua or given up us both. “No,” I said. She studied me. “Sorry,” I added. “Looking for someone to blame, I guess.” I almost asked if it would be possible to skip lunch and regroup in my dorm room. But she probably expected those questions. She'd consider it turning to old habits for comfort.

Addison had made me willing to stay at McCracken Hill. Without him, I already felt claustrophobic. So I made up my mind, sitting in the dean's office. No one would know how desperately I wanted to follow him. I'd obey their rules and embrace my solitary recovery and then eventually I'd get to leave. Then I'd track down Addison and demand an explanation. Or by that time, I'd have numbed myself so much that it no longer mattered.

“I hope you'll come back to talk again and let me know how you're doing.” Dean Edwards stood and walked me to the door. “Plenty of people want to help.”

Plenty of people also wanted to gloat and it felt like I walked past most of them on my way to the dining commons. I zombied my way through the food line. Sat down at the nearest empty table. Heard their chairs scoot across the linoleum first and then Sophie, Hannah, and Jared all appeared and settled into the empty seats around me. I refused to react. “We're giving you the benefit of the doubt, assuming you didn't see us,” Sophie said. I stood up without saying a word, retrieved the yellow squeeze bottle, and brought the whole thing back to the table. No one stopped me.

I covered an entire slice of turkey. “You're drowning your sorrows in mustard?” Jared asked lightly.

“Are you okay?” Sophie asked. “When did you know? Did you try to stop him? Did he tell you not to tell us? Is he home with his parents? Does Joshua know yet?”

I bit my lip, closed my eyes, and opened them. Began cutting my turkey with my fork and knife. Sophie reached to rattle my tray. “Greer.”

My head must have reared up. My throat burned and I struggled to swallow the small bite in my mouth that felt dusty and dry. Sophie stared at me and I felt my eyes fill up. “Leave her alone,” Hannah ordered quietly. “She doesn't want to cry in front of all these people.”

Sophie relented, for the meal at least, and I listened to the three of them struggle to talk about things that wouldn't trigger a weeping jag from my side of the table. I sat there cutting my meat carefully. Each time the ache threatened to crack open my chest, I looked up to see Hannah's slight smile.

Outside we sat along the stone parapet. Jared blocked me from the sight lines of the gossip paparazzi and Sophie paced back and forth. Her compact body seemed to hum with tension. “Last night, when you came back to the dorm, it sounded like you guys had experienced this breakthrough. I mean, that's what you said.”

Hannah reached over to me. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You okay, Greer?”

“What?” I blinked and focused my eyes, realizing I'd been staring at the campus gate. “Yeah, thanks. Thanks for asking. Listen, Sophie, I don't know what to tell you. He knew when he said good night.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I just know.” Some things I meant to keep private, for myself.

“But you came in babbling about how he finally understood —”

“Sophie, I didn't know last night, okay? You think I would have just moseyed into your room, all glowing about
him? Really? You think I would have been able to peel myself off the floor if I knew he was going to leave?”

“All right. I'm sorry, okay? I just don't understand. If he believed you —”

“Maybe Addison left because he believed her.” Jared spoke up.

“What?” Sophie and I said the word at the same time. Hannah sort of mouthed it, so that counted too.

“Well, what choice did he really have, you know? He probably felt stupid as all hell. And we weren't all just going to leave it, right? You wanted Joshua to answer for lying or whatever.”

I stared at Hannah.
Or whatever.

Jared went on. “Maybe he just needs to sort out his head. We'll go to afternoon classes and come back and find Addison all sweaty from the gym.”

“I don't think so.” I felt them all waiting. “Dean Edwards met with me this morning.”

“Holy crap.” Sophie clapped her hand over her mouth. “Why didn't you start off with that little tidbit? What did she say?”

“Well, that's how I knew they hadn't kicked him out. She wouldn't tell me much more than that.” And then, because they seemed to be waiting for more, I added, “She told me to stay strong.”