Read Online The Believing Game by Eireann Corrigan - Free Book Online Page B

confidentiality . This is a THERAPEUTIC environment.”
    Jenn started screaming back even before the door fully swung open. “Relax, Sophie — you’re not interesting enough to write about. And our day-to-day lives aren’t supposed to be confidential.”
    â€œYou’re a parasite,” Sophie hissed theatrically.
    I poked her in the back. “Get inside there, Sophia Maria.”
    â€œShe’s a tabloid.”
    â€œFuck you, Sophie,” Jenn said. “People find recovery memoirs inspiring.” I closed the door on her.
    Sophie opened it a crack to say, “Shut up, Sharpe. No one wants to see you recover.”
    â€œSophie, seriously.” I closed the door.
    â€œFine. What happened with the creatine prince?”
    â€œIt’s Joshua. Again,” I said. “He wants to sleep with me.”
    â€œWell, yeah, I mean, isn’t that already happening?” Sophie crinkled her face into a question.
    â€œWhat?” I shrieked loudly enough to put Jenn Sharpe on high alert.
    â€œWait — who?” Sophie asked. “Addison?”
    â€œNo. We’re talking about Joshua. JOSHUA.”
    â€œWants to sleep with you?”
    â€œIt’s an experiment in trust.”
    â€œWait — sleep with you?”
    â€œYeah, but just sleep.” I felt awkward then, because I hadn’t really meant to tell Sophie. I could already see Addison in my head: the sad, quick shake of his head, as if I had confirmed some misgiving he’d felt. This wasn’t something he’d want left open to Sophie’s analysis. My voice scurried, trying to fix it. “He would just stay the night. The idea is to spend time together and prove that I’m comfortable enough to fall asleep. You know, like an experiment —”
    â€œIn trust?” Sophie sounded more than dubious.
    â€œRight.”
    â€œSo the dean cleared this?” My eyebrows lifted up into their are-you-crazy? position. Sophie said, “Of course not. Because it’s bonkers. Capital B bonkers.” I felt my chest ease up. Maybe I shouldn’t have told her, but it was a relief to hear Sophie agree with me. She kept going, “And you’d sneak him in here?”
    â€œAddison said he’d take care of it.”
    â€œAnd he didn’t say anything else? Like ‘Hey, guru, paws off my lady friend’? Jesus. You can’t do this, Greer.” She sounded so definitive. And then she saw my face. “You’re kidding, right? You’re going to do it?”
    â€œI know it’s nuts.”
    â€œYeah, exact —”
    â€œIt actually helps to hear you say it’s nuts. Because sitting at Sal’s, I felt like maybe I was crazy. Or mistrustful. Youknow?” Sophie nodded. “It’s really important to Addison, though. Like I’m not sure …” I didn’t want to finish, but Sophie nodded again like, Go on . And so I finished, “We might be done if I don’t do this.”
    Sophie sat forward a little. “Greer, honey, did you ever go to summer camp?”
    â€œLike Girl Scout camp?”
    â€œOr any kind of camp.”
    â€œI went to Girl Scout camp.”
    Sophie sighed. “So this might be new for you, then. But I am a summer-camp veteran. From fourth grade to freshman year, I went to one every summer. Horseback riding camp, hot-air ballooning camp, theatre camp … you name it. And every year, around week five of the six weeks, I’d decide some brace-face kid was going to be my boyfriend and we’d sneak off behind the cabin or the boat dock or whatever and make out and we loved each other and wore each other’s lanyards or something. And when it was time to board separate buses at the end of the whole thing, we’d promise to write and visit. And I’d cry the whole way home and maybe we’d send e-mails or something. Or I’d even bake cookies and mail them, but by the end of