Chapter Fourteen

I slam my laptop shut.

My frustration and anxiety over not receiving a response from Mr. Grimmer has sent me into a spiral of self-doubt. Fuck that no-news-is-good-news bullshit. No news means I’m a big fat failure, and my dreams, once again, have been flushed down the drain along with my last stash of coke.

It’s a quarter to seven in the evening, only fifteen minutes until I have to leave for the weekly meeting. The majority of this week, I spent in the office without any leads, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be fired any day now. Considering my paycheck isn’t enough to cover my rent, my eviction is inevitable despite convincing the landlord to give me more time. Life sure is one big bowl of roses.

Once again, I find myself sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair. Note to self—invent comfortable plastic chairs. How can you open your mind to healing when your nuts are squashed against your dick and shoved somewhere up your ass?

Hazel walks in and sits down with her Bible in her lap. She closes her eyes, and I watch as her lips move. Making the sign of the cross, she opens her eyes from what must have been a silent prayer.

Fred walks in and takes his usual seat, followed by Jerry and Penny arguing again. I don’t bother to listen to their conversation, assuming they’ll air it out for everyone to hear shortly.

Penny takes a seat beside me. Today she’s wearing a bright yellow dress that has pictures of candy on it. Her platform pumps painted with the union jack, give her height, and she’s towering over everyone in this room. Her hair is bright blue—maybe not hair, more like a wig. I’m disturbing myself with how much attention I am paying to detail.

Hazel welcomes everyone back, but I’m quick to scan the room and see the mystery hooded girl isn’t here. I am a little disappointed. I hoped I’d have gotten a glimpse of her face today.

Jerry is profusely scratching and telling everyone he’s out of here. Once again, Hazel goes through the motions to calm him.

Fred tells his story again.

It’s Groundhog Day, and I’m Bill Murray.

Perhaps the only thing keeping my attention is Penny trying to pull her dress up above her thigh to entice me.

Scrotum and dick. If you got them, I’m not interested.

Sometime during Fred’s story, mystery girl walks in. Her hood is off, and her bright red hair stands out. It’s cut short in a bob style with her bangs a longer length falling below her eyes. She continues to wear the black hooded jacket in the sweltering heat. I need to look away before she catches me.

Hazel begins to ask us about how our task went, the one thing that made us happy this week.

Fred is first to answer. “I watched a rerun of Seinfeld. It was the episode where George ate an onion. I laughed for an hour. Then my neighbor banged on my door, and we got into an argument, so maybe I shouldn’t laugh so much.” His smile fades from wry to pensive.

Hazel is quick to praise him. “Fred, laughter is the best medicine. Don’t be discouraged by your neighbor’s discontent.”

Jerry grunts, prompting Hazel to ask him the same question. “Nothing made me happy, except for when I saw this kid fall off a bike. Yeah, maybe then I snickered. Kid deserved it, was showing off and all.”

Hazel chooses her words carefully. “Jerry, we talked about seeking joy in others’ pain.”

“Yeah, so what? Kid thought he was King Shit.”

“He’s just a child, he has yet to learn the consequences of his actions,” Hazel reminds him.

“Big fucking deal. I was a kid, too, okay? Do you think they cared about what they were doing to me?” he answers back in a sinister tone.

“Jerry, who was there to show them right from wrong? They knew no better. Your brothers felt the pain you did, and unfortunately, their way of dealing with the hurt and resentment was to take it out on you.”

Jerry pulls his knees to his chest and begins to rock back and forth.

Hazel softens her tone. “We must understand a cycle can be broken. The actions of the past don’t need to repeat themselves. We need to look at the whole picture, understand the story and what lies beneath.”

She turns to look at me and gives me a slight nod. Great. It’s now or never, right?

My throat feels dry. God, what I’d do for a scotch on the rocks right now.

“I was sitting in a café. The lady beside me ordered a red velvet cupcake. Reminded me of this woman I was fond of… well, was in love with. At least I thought it was love, I think.” My thoughts and words come out jumbled. I sound like a moron.

“I hear hesitation surrounding the word ‘love?’” Hazel asks.

“I don’t think…” I struggle to get my words out. “I thought I loved Chelsea. She was my neighbor, and I was crazy about her. She’d tease me, taunt me, and I just took anything, any scraps she would throw my way. I was convinced I loved her, but I was seventeen. Who falls in love at seventeen?”

“I fell in love at seventeen… with my hand.” Jerry laughs.

Penny slaps her hand on her knee, letting out a huge roar.

“Ignoring your age, what feeling do you remember about her? What feelings do you associate with love?” Hazel’s questions leave me stumped.

“She was beautiful. She had long brown hair, the kind that looks like it belongs in a commercial for shampoo. It was so silky and smelled like vanilla. Used to make me weak in the knees every time I was near her.” I smile, remembering her fondly, something I haven’t done for a long time. “Chelsea was a daredevil, everything I wasn’t. It scared me yet excited me at the same time. It would make me so angry when she’d sneak guys home and screw them in her room while her parents were in the living room watching The Price is Right.”

“Sounds like my kind of girl!” Penny giggles.

“She liked sex, all right. Maybe too much.” The knots in my stomach tighten, leaving me slightly out of breath. “The night she died, I told her I loved her.…” Bowing my head, I attempt to fight back the pain threatening to invade every part of me. “You should’ve seen the look on her face. I had never seen that side of Chelsea it was like she was honored. I don’t know, I can’t explain it, but that face haunts me to this very day.”

“Haunts you or eases the pain?” Hazel asks for clarification.

“Both. Sometimes my memory of her face is so clear, and other times I can’t remember, and it frustrates me. Those are the times I can only see the flames.”

The group is silent for moments on end. Great, I’m the lunatic in here.

“It’s common for many people to forget the good and remember the bad. It’s important that you try to remember as many good things as you can. For instance, I try to remember every Sunday when my family would leave church to head down to the ice cream parlor.” She smiles.

“The same church where your family was shot?” Jerry asks in shock.

“Yes. Every Sunday for ten years we walked down that same path, and every Sunday was a joyous occasion until that very last one.” Hazel’s face doesn’t change, and I wonder how she can remain calm while reliving that disturbing memory.

I start to find my voice. “The nightmares plague me, the same scene over and over again. Chelsea driving the car into the tree, and the flames engulfing it before my eyes. The feeling of being helpless, watching her body dragged from the wreckage and hearing the paramedics pronouncing her dead. The only thing that stopped it was a woman I met named Charlie.”

There’s a cough in the room, but I’m too late to see who it came from.

“Tell us about this Charlie?” Penny places her hand on mine, conflicting me in every which way.

“She looks like Chelsea, beautiful, smart. God, she’s perfect.”

“And?” Penny waits in anticipation.

“She was in love with someone else. I had no chance.”

“Women think with their kitties, I should know, after all.” Penny flicks her hair behind her shoulder.

“Honestly, Penny, you’re such a—”

“It’s getting old, Jerry, much like your outfit,” Penny mocks.

I interrupt the both of them. “Charlie isn’t like that. She loves him, always loved him. You can’t compete if there’s no competition to begin with.”

“So, then why are you here?” Fred asks.

Million-dollar question. Why am I here?

“Because losing Chelsea and Charlie forced me to do drugs. I’m my own worst nightmare. I know I need to find a way to move forward in my life without using people to replace what I lost.”

Hazel places her hand on her heart. “My boy, you’ve just passed that first step, accepting what you need to overcome.”

It was exactly like in school, the teacher praising you in front of the whole classroom. Inside I feel the relief wash over me, Penny leaning over to squeeze my hand with delight. Fred begins to clap, acknowledging my achievement. Jerry sulks, as usual, then in a bold move, leans toward me and sticks out his fist. I knock fists with him, weird but okay. Whatever.

My eyes wander over to the mystery girl. With her sleeves up, I can see red marks just above her wrist. There’s no mistaking them, some are old scars, and others look raw and new.

They are cuts.

I beg her with my eyes to look in my direction. She’s a girl in pain, maybe more so than the rest of us in this room. With every cut that scars her pale skin, I want to mend her and give her the hope she needs. Whatever it is about this girl that pulls me in, I need to control it. Something has a hold of me, and with alarm bells ringing in my head, once again, I have to stop trying to find the next obsession.

Everything comes to a halt when I watch her head lift, and her eyes stare directly at mine.

There’s something familiar about them. I’ve seen them before. I wrack my brain but come up with nothing.

This is a huge fault of mine and exactly what I do every time. I think I see people from the past in my present.

Breaking her gaze, I shake my head, clearing my thoughts.

“Darling, you up for a drink at the bar around the corner? My treat.” Penny pulls a twenty out of her cleavage.

I nod and laugh at her antics, only to miss the mystery girl leaving the room, vanishing without a trace.