Chapter 13 Starting from Zero
Starting from Zero
I was in the car with Will, who hadn’t uttered a word the whole drive. Naya, sitting next to him, was looking at us with worry in the rearview mirror. I was in the back seat with Jack.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
All morning he’d been silent, pensive, pacing back and forth in his bedroom.
When I told Will, he said I had to give Jack his space.
He was right, of course. At midday, Jack walked out with his hands in his pockets and asked to see the flyer for the facility again.
There were several, but we had more or less settled on one, and gave it a last once-over.
It was expensive—even more than the twenty thousand Mr. Ross had given me—but Joey, Jack’s manager, had told us he’d pitch in.
He’d been a part of the process ever since Jack had agreed to go to rehab, and had helped me do research and talked with Jack about where would be best for him.
Jack had insisted on the center that was closest to home, about an hour and a half away by car.
We wouldn’t be able to visit every day, but at least we wouldn’t have to catch a plane to get there.
I was happy. I’d spoken to the staff there on the phone, and they seemed kind. They talked about their patients like people, not just numbers on a list.
But on the way to the clinic, things didn’t feel so good anymore. As soon as we were in the car, Jack started looking out the window frantically, and he hadn’t stopped since. I asked him over and over if he was all right, but I was starting to feel like an idiot since he refused to respond.
To break the silence, Naya asked if we wanted to hear a little music.
“Sure,” I said. Jack was silent. She took that for a yes.
The music helped distract everyone, but the sorrow returned when we got there. It had all happened too fast. I was so scared to leave Jack alone and vulnerable in a place like that, but at the same time, I knew I was doing the right thing.
The grounds were even prettier than I’d imagined.
It was in the boonies, surrounded by farms and country houses, and in front of the building was a promenade lined with orange trees.
The building was like a part of the landscape, with its ivy-covered brick walls and perfectly arranged pots with flowers and ornamental trees.
I think it must have impressed Jack, too. As soon as he got out, he covered his brow with his hands to see better and said simply, “Not bad.”
Since he’d finally spoken, I thought it was time to take his hand. He didn’t look at me, but he didn’t pull away, either.
“It’s pretty, right?” I asked.
“I mean, it doesn’t look like the kind of place that ties you to the bed or whatever.”
It was a weird time for jokes, but maybe his nerves were getting to him.
He was smiling the way he did when he thought he’d done something wrong.
Will and Naya had gone inside, and soon they returned with a short woman with curly hair.
She looked sweet, and she showed us the facilities and then Jack’s room, which he’d be sharing.
Naya laughed when she saw the bunk bed and announced, “I feel bad for whoever’s your roommate.”
Jack shrugged. “I shared a room with Jen, and look how that worked out. Maybe I’ll get lucky again.”
“You’d better not,” I warned him.
By the time the visit was over, Jack’s mood was less playful.
He walked me to the door, and the woman who had shown us around stepped aside to give us some privacy.
I didn’t want to say goodbye. It felt too soon.
I wanted to ask if there was something else to see there, if we could just stay a while until Jack had settled in, but then Naya interrupted me, giving him a big hug and telling him, “I’m so proud of you. ”
He stuttered a response. I don’t think he’d ever seen her be so authentically affectionate.
“If you need anything,” she continued, “let us know right away: food, clothes…cupcakes! I can make you some cupcakes and bring them if you want!”
“I’ve had your cooking, thanks. I think I’ll just stick with the hug.”
Will whispered to Jack, so quiet that I didn’t hear. And when he stepped away, Jack smiled at me. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do, but I didn’t have to think too long before he pulled me close. We shared a brief kiss and he asked, “Any last words?”
“Just behave while you’re here,” I told him. “I’ll try and make sure they don’t destroy the apartment in your absence.”
His laughter echoed in my ears, and that memory was my only company on the way home. Was it bad that I already missed him so much? I knew it was for his own good, but that didn’t mean I could just act like he wasn’t gone.
The first week was the hardest. They’d told me I shouldn’t call him while he was settling in, and of course, every second I was thinking about him.
He wasn’t allowed to have a cell phone there, and phone time was limited, and I had to share it with his friends and family.
Besides, he needed to focus on himself—I knew that—he couldn’t make progress if he was constantly suffering because of all he’d left behind.
I eventually got used to everything—to sleeping alone, to hearing his voice once or twice a week, to dealing with Will, Sue, and Naya on my own…
I have to say, school helped. I concentrated on studying, got close to my classmates, and my grades improved.
Curtis started calling me a nerd. I guess there was a first time for everything.
April was sunny, and all over the quad you could find students lying around trying to catch some rays. Curtis and I were doing that ourselves one day after class, our heads touching, our feet facing in opposite directions. He was sipping a soda. My eyes were lost in the clouds.
“Curtis, Jenna!” I heard Chris shout. I looked up to see him walking over with a smile on his face and a bag of food. He must have been on his break. Curtis turned tense. He had been ghosting Chris for weeks. Weirdly, though, Chris didn’t even seem mad. He just sat down and bit into his sandwich.
“I’m glad I found you guys,” he said. “I hate eating alone. You want some?”
“Eh… I’m fine,” Curtis said.
“I’ll take some,” I replied. “What is it?”
“Chicken salad,” Chris said. “My recipe. It has feta, grapes, and almonds. Here, have half. You won’t regret it. I’m sad to say that I inherited all the culinary talent in our family and left poor Naya unable to make a bowl of cereal without starting a fire.”
Curtis chuckled as I took a bite. Chris was right, it was delicious. I told him so and could tell he was proud of himself. But then an uncomfortable silence followed. Or so I thought. Chris didn’t notice it, apparently.
“How’s Ross?” he asked. “Have you gone to see him?”
That was a complicated question. I frowned. “No. Supposedly visitors might be bad for his sobriety.”
“Have his parents gone?”
Oh, Chrissy. If only you knew…
“I seriously doubt it,” I said.
I felt more and more uncomfortable amid the sounds of our chewing and Curtis slurping his drink.
“How have you been?” I asked. “How are things in the dorm?”
“The job at the dorm is getting dull, if I can be honest with you. But I shouldn’t complain.
Anyway, there are lots of jobs out there and I’m sure I can find something as soon as I really start looking.
As for everything else… It’s hard, you know, working all day, trying to do your best, and then people treat you like you don’t exist, you know?
They don’t answer your calls, they won’t tell you why they don’t want to see you again, and then you randomly bump into them hanging out with one of your friends…
I don’t know. I feel like I deserve better than that.
Once you reach a certain age, you should be able to shoot straight with people, right? ”
As Curtis blinked, Chris stood and balled up the bag he’d brought his food in. “You know what?” he said. “I just remembered I’ve got somewhere to be. See you guys around!”
We were both shocked as he walked off.
I told Naya the story that night. She clapped her hands and applauded, saying, “Now that’s my brother! He’s finally standing up for himself!”
Sue was sitting across from us and frowned. “I seem to remember you were the one who was obsessed with them going out.”
“Listen,” Naya responded, “I’m perfect at almost everything, you can’t expect me to be the perfect matchmaker, too. Anyway, he’s my older brother. It’s time he learned to walk on his own.”
It was hard to focus on our conversation because Mike was lying on the couch with his arms and legs in the air like a baby with a can of beer between his knees, trying to pour it into his open mouth. When he noticed everyone was staring at him, he asked, “What?”
“Nothing,” Sue said, shaking her head.
Mike sat up, put his beer on the coffee table, and asked, “How is my brother doing in the nuthouse, anyway?”
“It’s not a nuthouse!” I snapped.
“Mental wellness facility,” Will corrected him, “but the answer is, we don’t know.
Not from him, anyway. We’ve talked to a nurse, she says everything’s fine, but he’s basically closed down.
I don’t know why. He told me the contact isn’t good for him, that he can’t work on himself with everyone bugging him and trying to make sure he’s OK. ”
For a long time, Mike didn’t say anything. We ordered some pizza, and when it came, he toyed with his portion and barely took a bite. Out of nowhere, he told us he’d be heading out early tomorrow, and he left before anyone could ask why.
The next day, Will spoke with the nurse at the facility, and she told him Mike had gone to visit Jack. Apparently, he’d stayed there the whole day. He must have said something to him, because Jack called me that night.
I didn’t recognize the number, and I was shocked when I heard his voice saying, “Hey, Jen…”