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I rattle the small tub of pills that Summer dropped off earlier today, Ray Dalton’s “In My Bones” playing in the background.
Oddly poignant.
She’s measured everything out for me so that I can take these tablets tonight without her supervision, and this way I can enjoy my night of ‘normality’ with Cove. I still have to take my anti-anxiety medication and the anti-psychosis pills, but it’s a much smaller dosage to my usual cocktail, so I guess it was a happy-ish medium.
A compromise.
She wouldn’t sign off on me going completely med-free, afraid that another setback would see me admitted to hospital for much longer this time. I guess she’s right, though it seems an unlikely outcome to me. My therapist thinks I’m making amazing progress and is going to recommend reducing my medication at my next hospital review.
I can’t wait.
But first I have something even more exciting to focus on: my date with Cove. I switch to play Sia’s ‘Unstoppable’, feeling like I could take on the world right now, and win.
He seemed so thrilled when I not only asked for this date, but initiated it, though he’s insisting on planning it all himself and keeping everything a surprise. All I know is that tonight’s date will take place once it’s dark, which suits me perfectly because my tablets are due late anyway, and there’s more anonymity in the dark. Fewer people. Or at least the illusion of being more alone.
I have time to take my pills before he collects me, and I’m feeling more excited about seeing him and spending time with him, in person, outside of these four walls, than any feelings of anxiety or worry. I’m sure my gorgeous doctor would tell me I’m making progress. For once, I’d actually believe him too.
The excited, dancing butterflies in my stomach are back, and I feel almost giddy with the possibility of what ifs and maybes.
I shake the tablets once more, contemplating. What if I didn’t take them…not right now anyway. I could put them in my handbag and take them a little later while we’re out. Summer would never know.
Yeah I think I’ll do that.
I stash the bottle in my bag and begin to get ready for my date. There’s still time to take them later. It’s fine. I’m fine.
Because I don’t know what Cove has planned, I opt for my usual beachy vibe. Most of the clothes are denim shorts, bikinis and crochet tops, but I do have a couple of nice things Summer has foisted on me over the years. I toy with the edge of a coordinating white crochet skirt and top set. It’s pretty but could end up being way too dressy for whatever Cove comes up with. Plus, Summer borrowed it a while back claiming it was “soin right now” – whatever that meant – and she stretched it out, because, boobs. Summer has way way more than me.
That sounds weird even in my head. I mean she has bigger boobs than me, not more of them than me. The mental image of Summer with huge cartoon balloon boobs protruding from every part of her body makes me laugh. I’m not crazy. It’s funny.
Maybe I should wear jeans. I have a few pairs but I don’t really feel the cold so I’m usually that ‘freak’ in shorts all year round. Yeah, because that’s the most freaky thing about you, Malia!
I stop what I’m doing and quickly scribble down in my notebook. My therapist is still insistent that I log negative thoughts about myself to go over in our next session, even though I continue to argue with him that they’re facts, not ‘negative observations’.
Thoughts are not facts, Malia.
His calm, soothing voice sounds in my mind (from memory because my meds are working, and I hardly ever hear voices in my head anymore) and brings a smile to my lips.
I thought having therapy every day would be the worst thing ever, but it seems that between my virtual dates with Cove, classes and studying with Bhodi, and therapy with Dr. Jones, I find myself quite looking forward to spending time with men.
Which is definitely progress, all things considered.
I grab a cute little black jean skirt that’s covered in matte black rhinestones and pair it with a white fine lace vest top over my silver bikini. I add the black leather jacket I pinched off Summer during our first week here when she dragged me to that beach party…gosh, that seems like ages ago now.
Holy shit. That’s another memory gained!
I slick on some clear gloss. Too sticky. Wipe it off. Eye up the small collection of lipsticks Summer has casually ‘left’ for me. Dismiss all of them. Grab my trusty Burt’s Bees lip balm instead – the strawberry one, not the gross one that tastes like a candle dipped in honey – and apply that.
There’s a knock at my door so I quickly jam my feet into my trusty old Vans and hurry to answer the door.
Cove is…breathtaking. He is so freaking pretty it shouldn’t be allowed!
“You’re gorgeous,” I blurt out. He smiles and then his eyes sweep over me, taking me in. I shift nervously but when his gaze lands on mine it’s heated.
“You stole my line.” He leans in and kisses my lips before pulling away with a soft and easy smile. “Hey, gorgeous.”
“Hi.” I bite my lip, suddenly nervous.
Not in an oh-my-god-I’m-leaving-my-room sort of way, it’s more, I-can’t-believe-a-boy-this-good-looking-is-into-me! Cove’s gaze settles on my bed over my shoulder and I squirm. Should I drag him into my room, slam the door and finish what we started the other night? I really, really want to.
