himself Storm. Just that. A made-up name I'm sure, and it kind of sounds like a stripper," she laughed nervously, "but I wouldn't mind him taking some of his clothes—"
"Where's the brochure?" I asked. "I need to see the brochure."
"Eden—" Molly frowned.
I breathed out, calming myself. "Please, Molly, just show me the brochure."
"I'm sorry, I don't have it here. I looked at Ava's at school, but I didn't take it with me."
My body jerked and I let go of her and took off the robe I'd been wearing all day. I grabbed some jeans lying at the end of my bed and pulled them on. My whole entire body was shaking and I felt like I was at risk of having a seizure of some sort.
I reached into my closet and grabbed the first shirt I laid eyes on, something navy blue, or black. Dark anyway. It took me a couple tries to get my head through the neck hole and I started crying with the overwhelming emotion, paired with the frustration of trying to get dressed. In the background Molly was saying something and when I finally pulled the shirt over my head, her words registered.
"You're scaring me. What's going on? Is it the guy? Storm? I—"
Pulling the shirt over my head had made my hair fall out of the up-do Molly had just done and so I ran my hands through it quickly, all of it tumbling down my back again. I took several deep breaths, but the shaking continued. "I need you to get me down to that gallery," I said shakily. "I need you to drive me there right this minute."
Molly's face was a study of confusion and worry. "Okay, whatever you need. Let's go."
I nodded jerkily and slipped on some flip-flops. It was far too cool outside for flip-flops, but I hardly cared. Don't think. Just don't think until you get there. You might be crazy. If you are, it's okay. It's okay. You'll be okay.
I practically ran down the large staircase and flung the front door open. I heard my mom's voice behind us as I ran out the door. "We're going to that art thing!" Molly yelled back at her.
"Oh well, okay. Bring her right back—" Carolyn's voice was cut off as Molly slammed the door behind us.
I jogged down the short set of stairs to the garage on the side of the house and waited at the passenger side until Molly clicked it.
Once Molly had backed the car out and pulled onto the street, she turned toward me. "Do you want to tell me—"
"No, Molly, I'm sorry. I will once we get there. But right now I feel like I might throw up. Please, I just need to sit here." It felt as if my heart flipped over in my chest.
Molly nodded and turned back to the road.
Fifteen minutes later, we were downtown. As we drove past the gallery where the showing was, I turned, watching the huge line formed outside. I saw a flash of green in the paintings in the window and squinted to make sense of them, but we were too far away, and people lined up were mostly blocking my view.
"There should be parking in a garage right around the corner," Molly said.
"Let me out here, please. I need to get out here." I put my hand on the door.
"Whoa. No jumping out of the car while it's moving! I want to go in with you anyway, Eden. I'm worried about you."
I shook my head, trying to get control of my breathing. It felt like every surface of my skin was hot and prickly and I couldn't feel my extremities. "I'm okay, I promise. I just really need to get out here. Please. At the next red light, I'll hop out."
Molly pursed her lips. "All right, fine. But I'll be about five minutes behind you, okay?"
I nodded my head. "Okay, thank you." I let out another big exhale, clenching my hands in my lap to stop the shaking. I swallowed the bile trying to make its way up my throat and practiced the breathing I'd gotten so good at right after I'd left Acadia and needed to control my emotions enough to function.
Molly's car came to a slow stop at the red light several blocks from the gallery and I reached over and squeezed her shoulder. I hopped out of the car, making my way across the street to the
"Where's the brochure?" I asked. "I need to see the brochure."
"Eden—" Molly frowned.
I breathed out, calming myself. "Please, Molly, just show me the brochure."
"I'm sorry, I don't have it here. I looked at Ava's at school, but I didn't take it with me."
My body jerked and I let go of her and took off the robe I'd been wearing all day. I grabbed some jeans lying at the end of my bed and pulled them on. My whole entire body was shaking and I felt like I was at risk of having a seizure of some sort.
I reached into my closet and grabbed the first shirt I laid eyes on, something navy blue, or black. Dark anyway. It took me a couple tries to get my head through the neck hole and I started crying with the overwhelming emotion, paired with the frustration of trying to get dressed. In the background Molly was saying something and when I finally pulled the shirt over my head, her words registered.
"You're scaring me. What's going on? Is it the guy? Storm? I—"
Pulling the shirt over my head had made my hair fall out of the up-do Molly had just done and so I ran my hands through it quickly, all of it tumbling down my back again. I took several deep breaths, but the shaking continued. "I need you to get me down to that gallery," I said shakily. "I need you to drive me there right this minute."
Molly's face was a study of confusion and worry. "Okay, whatever you need. Let's go."
I nodded jerkily and slipped on some flip-flops. It was far too cool outside for flip-flops, but I hardly cared. Don't think. Just don't think until you get there. You might be crazy. If you are, it's okay. It's okay. You'll be okay.
I practically ran down the large staircase and flung the front door open. I heard my mom's voice behind us as I ran out the door. "We're going to that art thing!" Molly yelled back at her.
"Oh well, okay. Bring her right back—" Carolyn's voice was cut off as Molly slammed the door behind us.
I jogged down the short set of stairs to the garage on the side of the house and waited at the passenger side until Molly clicked it.
Once Molly had backed the car out and pulled onto the street, she turned toward me. "Do you want to tell me—"
"No, Molly, I'm sorry. I will once we get there. But right now I feel like I might throw up. Please, I just need to sit here." It felt as if my heart flipped over in my chest.
Molly nodded and turned back to the road.
Fifteen minutes later, we were downtown. As we drove past the gallery where the showing was, I turned, watching the huge line formed outside. I saw a flash of green in the paintings in the window and squinted to make sense of them, but we were too far away, and people lined up were mostly blocking my view.
"There should be parking in a garage right around the corner," Molly said.
"Let me out here, please. I need to get out here." I put my hand on the door.
"Whoa. No jumping out of the car while it's moving! I want to go in with you anyway, Eden. I'm worried about you."
I shook my head, trying to get control of my breathing. It felt like every surface of my skin was hot and prickly and I couldn't feel my extremities. "I'm okay, I promise. I just really need to get out here. Please. At the next red light, I'll hop out."
Molly pursed her lips. "All right, fine. But I'll be about five minutes behind you, okay?"
I nodded my head. "Okay, thank you." I let out another big exhale, clenching my hands in my lap to stop the shaking. I swallowed the bile trying to make its way up my throat and practiced the breathing I'd gotten so good at right after I'd left Acadia and needed to control my emotions enough to function.
Molly's car came to a slow stop at the red light several blocks from the gallery and I reached over and squeezed her shoulder. I hopped out of the car, making my way across the street to the
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