AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“This place is more like a prison than I thought,” she mutters.
“Yeah, well, it’s our job to keep you safe. And that entails surveillance,” I growl. “If you all could be trusted to act like adults, we might not have to treat you like kids.”
She grumbles under her breath as I walk to the window that overlooks the lake and stare out at it. The moonlight glitters off the rippling surface of the water like diamonds and casts the world around us in a silvery monochromatic light. It’s beautiful. Peaceful. Just looking at the scenery beyond my window usually helps to calm me down. But not tonight. No, tonight I’m filled with rage and feel like I’m being consumed by those flames from the inside out.
Most of it is because I was scared for Jordan. When I figured out where she went and stumbled into that, seeing that kid on top of her, trying to rape her… I haven’t been that furious in a very long time. I wanted to beat those kids to a pulp. I wanted to kill them with my bare hands. It was an act of mercy and tremendous restraint that I was able to pull back before I actually did kill them. I might be in deep enough shit as it is if they go to the cops.
But now I’m left with the residue of that flood of adrenaline and fury in my body. I’m left with the remnants of that rage and the only person I have to take it out on is Jordan. She definitely deserves some of it. The only reason I'm not giving it to her with both barrels right now though is that she went through a tremendous trauma. She was almost raped for fuck’s sake. I wouldn’t feel right blasting her to kingdom come. At the same time though, I need to make a deep, indelible impression on her.
"Jordan, your mother sent you here because she believes you've got a problem with drinking," I say. "She tells me it leads you to make bad decisions… especially with guys—”
“That’s bullshit,” she snaps.
I turn to her, surprised to hear such heat in her voice. “Excuse me?”
“My mom came home early and found me throwing a party. I wasn’t even drunk,” she tells me, her voice still tense. “I don’t have a drinking problem.”
“She seems to think you do.”
"I don't. I sometimes have a few drinks socially. At parties," she says. "I don't sit in my room alone, drinking in the dark. I'm not out every night getting plastered. And I'm not getting drunk and fucking every guy I come across. My mother overreacted to finding me having a party. Once.”
“And yet, I find you here, drinking and hanging out with guys you don’t know. Can you see how that looks from my perspective?”
“I don’t give a shit how it looks from your perspective, Director Ballard,” she hisses. “I’m telling you I don’t have a problem. I snuck out because I wanted to have a few laughs tonight. Your camp isn’t exactly fun central, you know.”
“It’s not supposed to be,” I growl, my voice low and tense. “It’s to address the problems you have. It’s to help steer you back onto the right path.”
“And if I’d ever gotten onto the wrong path, I’d say okay, maybe there’s something there,” she spits. “But I carried a four-point-oh in high school, my SATs were almost perfect, and I’ve gotten into some of the top colleges in the country.”
“Then why aren’t you in school right now? Why did you—”
“Because I wanted to take a gap year. I wanted time to decompress,” she screams. “High school was intense, and I just wanted to take a minute to fucking breathe! Is it that difficult for you to understand?”
The thing is, I can understand where she’s coming from. I wasn't quite the student she was, but coming from the family I came from, I had a lot of pressure piled up on my shoulders. I get wanting to take a step back and catch your breath.
“Look, I get it. But you’re here to do some work on yourself,” I say. “And from where I’m standing, you could use a bit.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You say you don’t have a drinking problem. Great. But there are a lot of things you can learn here. Like how to deal with stress and pressure. We’ve got counselors on staff who—”
“I can learn those things on my own. I don’t need to be here for that,” she huffs. “My mother sent me here—”
“Your mother sent you here because she loves you. Because she was worried about you.”
“No, she sent me here because she wants to control me. Just like you do,” Jordan fumes. “I am sick to death of people trying to tell me how to live my life. This is my life, goddammit!”
I grit my teeth and clench my hands, doing my best to keep from blowing my stack. She’s arrogant. Haughty. Jordan thinks she knows everything about everything. She’s so very typical of girls her age. At the same time though, I know she’s not. I’ve seen her. I’ve listened to her session tapes. She’s well aware of her strengths and her weaknesses and when she chooses to, she displays a wisdom and a maturity uncommon in girls her age. Right now, though, she's choosing to behave like a spoiled little brat and it's pissing me off.
“You need to grow the hell up, Jordan. You have privileges very few people in this world have. You have opportunities others would kill for,” I say through clenched teeth. “Yet, you seem to be content to piss them all away just to spite your mother. You have an opportunity here to do some good things for yourself. To find a way to channel your—”
“I don’t want to be here! Why is this so difficult for you to understand? I do not have a drinking problem and I do not need rehab.”
“Forward Path is not just about rehab, Jordan. It’s about bettering yourself.”
“I don’t care!”
“I’m trying to treat you like an adult, Jordan,” I say, my voice hard and tight. “But if you don’t stop acting like such a goddamn child, I’m going to treat you like one.”
