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“Well, what am I supposed to say, then?”
“Say as little as possible.”
“Dr. Ripley doesn’t like when I give short answers.”
“Then you just say you were confused at the time, but now you see that none of that is possible. You’re just Penny Rose. Tell the doctor you want to live with your parents, get a job, save for an apartment, and be a productive member of society. Tell her you want to take some classes—for drawing and writing. Don’t mention going back home to New Hampshire, that’s where all the crazy lives.”
I nodded. “Got it.” Londyn’s seen a lot of patients come and go. I suppose it’s safe to assume she knows the ins and outs of how to prolong a stay— like she is—and how to become—or seem—well enough to discharge.
That night I stared out the window at the stars for a long time. I spend a lot of time staring at things now—the wall, the ceiling, a smudge on the floor. The book I started reading months ago is on my nightstand, with its bookmark still at chapter ten. I can’t remember what the story is about. My sketchbook lay beneath it—all its pages empty.
My vision is distorted when I dial his number, the digits on my phone screen slanted.
“Penny,” he says into the phone, and my heart springs up into my throat like it’s hoping to escape my chest and hide in his.
“Hi…it’s me.”
“It’s you.” I can hear his smile. My favorite thing. “It’s so good to hear your voice. I’ve been missing you like fucking crazy.” His deep, emotional voice has the energy of a storm. Dark, rumbling, intriguing. It makes me want to run to him barefoot in the rain.
“I’m sorry it’s been so long. Time is weird here.”
My chest twinges at the sound of his comforter rustling, folding back. “It’s okay,” he says.
Silence hangs between us like a still pendulum. I don’t know what to do to make it move again.
After a while, he says, “How are you feeling?”
“Um…” I gaze blankly out the window. “Okay, I guess.”
“You don’t sound like yourself, little darlin’.”
My eyes close. The nickname is a comforting embrace. “I don’t feel like myself.”
The silence returns. I hate everything it says. “How’s Lily?” I ask.
“Good… have you talked to her recently?”
“No. But I’ll call her in a few days.”
“Penny, I really want to see you. Can I come there? I’ll fly out tomorrow. I don’t care if it’s only for ten minutes, I just want to see your beautiful smile again. I need to see that you’re okay.”
My stomach drops. I don’t want him to know I barely smile anymore.
I glance at my reflection in the window and it screams no. I can’t remember the last time I washed my hair. My face and body are bloated and blotchy from the medication. Anxiety washes over me, drowning me with overwhelming thoughts. I’d have to put nice clothes on. I’d have to smile. I’d have to talk and tell him about the past few months. He’ll want to know when I’m coming home. He’ll touch my face and pull me into his arms—a haven I long to be in. I won’t be able to let go.
But it all feels as insurmountable as climbing Mt. Everest right now.
My tongue drags across my dry lips. “I-I don’t think I’m ready to see you yet.”
I hear him inhale, sharp with heartache. A crack splinters across my heart. “Penny…I’m so worried about you. The last image I have of you is being taken away on a stretcher. It’s killing me. We didn’t even get to say goodbye.”
“I don’t want a goodbye.”
“Neither do I, baby. That’s not what I meant. I just want to take care of you and make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m okay. The doctors are really nice, and I like my roommate.” I peer over at Londyn in her bed across the room. I can’t tell if she’s listening.
“I’m just not sure you belong there. I know I’m not a doctor, but this all seems drastic to me. You’ve been there for months. I want to understand what’s going on.”
“You know the things I said. About Brianna.”
“You said you thought you were Brianna.” He pauses. I envision him adjusting his eye patch, pulling it up and then laying it back over the scar tissue. “Do you really think that? You can tell me the truth. It’s okay.”
The urge to say yes almost doubles me over. The voice is there in my head now… Tell him. Tell him. But I’m terrified he’ll be like the doctors and think I’m having delusions. He might never want to see me again.
Remembering Londyn’s advice, I do my best to push my thoughts through the fog, forcing the right words to come out of my mouth. “No. I think it was because I hadn’t been sleeping much for a few days. I was only getting about three hours of sleep a night working on my submission. And I was overwhelmed with feelings for you. We had just fooled around, and then we were talking about love, and you said someday… and I think I felt like I wasn’t good enough, I was afraid you’d never love me as much as you loved her. I guess I had a meltdown. Looking back, it was silly and I’m embarrassed.” I swallow hard.
