Read Online Life on the Level by Zoraida Cordova - Free Book Online Page A

push away the thoughts that run through my mind. Who have I hurt? I hurt Pepe and Tony by bringing my mess to their wedding. I hurt Sky when I get so messed up that she has to take care of me. I hurt myself. I hurt myself most of all. And maybe I’m okay with that. Maybe that’s who I am.
    “I don’t know,” I tell him. I flip the pages of the book over and over again until Ransom stares at my hands.
    “I want you to try something today.”
    “You’re not going to make me run laps again, are you?”
    He smiles softly. “I want you to have dinner in the main hall.”
    “You want me to make friends.”
    “Not necessarily. Being friends with people involves trust. Trust is hard to come by. I want you to open yourself up to the possibility of getting to know the people here. I think you might be surprised.”
    I don’t tell him that I don’t like surprises.

Chapter 10
    The dining hall is bustling. It has the feel of a small-town diner and smells like burning oil and french fries. It’s burger night and Lunchman Larry grills, while one of the patients mans the fixing stations.
    I load up my burger with lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, onions, guacamole, and ketchup. I smile at Larry, and he gives me extra fries.
    I feel nervous again. Sure, I like to think I have thick skin and a general New-York-don’t-care attitude, but as I stand in the middle of the room, I get that terrible feeling of not belonging. I kept telling myself that I didn’t want to make friends with these people. But for the first time I wonder if they feel the same way about me.
    Pete and his table seem inviting, but I think I’m too dark for them. I don’t see Maddie anywhere, which is weird because she’s always here.
    The counselors are spread all over. They don’t separate themselves, but eat with the patients. The longer I stand here without somewhere to go, the more my hands start to tremble.
    Get a grip, River Thomas.
    “Hey, New York,” Vilma, the Hispanic girl from Hutch’s group, shouts at me. “Come here. Sit.”
    I’m so relieved that I practically sprint to sit beside her.
    Then I realize Hutch is at the table, and I knock over my drink.
    “I’m so sorry,” I shriek.
    “It’s okay,” Hutch says, grabbing a bunch of napkins to mop up the water.
    Some of the girls giggle behind their hands.
    “So,” the dark-haired girl with the runny nose I met on my first day says, “you finally decided to come down from your lair.”
    “Yeah, we have a bet going,” Fran says. “Julie thinks you’re a vampire. I said you were maybe a cutter, but now that I look at you, you haven’t got a scratch on you except that scar on your thigh. What’s that from anyway?”
    “Guys,” Hutch says warningly. “Ease up, she hasn’t even touched her food yet.”
    Vilma slams her hand on the table, and gives a telling look at Hutch and me. “Fran, what did I tell you not to say?”
    Fran smacks her hand on her head. Then covers her mouth. “Sorry. Gambler. I’m sorry. We were just kidding.”
    I grab my burger with both hands. “I went for a run today. In the daylight. So your vampire theory is out. You’re shitty at reading people.”
    Hutch cocks his eyebrow in my direction. Is he just going to sit there, or is he going to tell them to stop? Is he “off duty” all of a sudden?
    Vilma flicks a fry at Fran.
    “Vampires can go out in the daytime,” Julie says. “They sparkle.”
    “I’m a vampire purist,” I say, biting more of my burger than is polite. But if I have something to occupy my mouth, I’ll have more time to think before I speak. I can’t help but look at Hutch and think of something better to do with my mouth. I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing, because suddenly he looks away from me.
    “What about the scar?” Fran asks.
    I look around the dining hall and try to catch Ransom just to give him a side-eye. My hand instinctually goes to my thigh where my pearly white scar is. I try to block the memory of it by