Then
As she turns the last sheet of my folder toward me, Dr. Rose smiles so hard that her cheeks are turning red.
I cover my mouth to catch my shriek before it comes out and I lose a point for yelling.
“Jasmine Cooper, you are officially on your discharge plan,” she says. “How do you feel?”
Over the past few months, I’ve had an eye on the calendar, watching the weeks go by, knowing that this day would come. But still … “Seeing it in writing makes it feel so real, like now I can really believe it,” I say.
“That’s an interesting response. Did you think this wasn’t going to happen?” she asks.
I wanted to remind her that she barely thought it would when I first got here. I hoped it was coming and I’m happy about it, it just feels fast. In the beginning, I couldn’t wait to leave, but I’ve started to feel comfortable.
Then there’s Amari … I don’t know how to put into words how I feel about her, about how our time together has changed the way I feel about this place. And now, I have to prepare myself to leave it all behind.
“I wasn’t sure, after the Sam thing,” I say instead.
“You just needed a bit of a wake-up call, and to really start opening up.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I say, even though the last thing I’ve been doing is opening up to Dr. Rose. To Amari, to my journal—yes. To Dr. Rose, I’m always toeing the party line, trying extra hard to conceal how much time Amari and I have spent breaking the rules, and I guess that worked.
“Just know, this is contingent on you continuing to behave as though you can contribute positively at home,” she says with a serious face.
I think about the sneaking around I’ve been doing with Amari and how lucky we’ve been to not get caught. “Got it. I’m on it,” I reassure her. “Do I get to call my mom and tell her?”
“You sure do,” she says. “First, anything else you want to talk to me about?”
“I might if my mom isn’t as excited as you are,” I tell her honestly. The thought worms its way into my brain. What if she’s not ready for me to come home yet? What if she’s enjoying having me gone?
“We’ve talked about managing your expectations of other people, Jasmine,” she says. “Start now.”
I nod. It’s one of the few truly valuable things I’ve gotten out of my sessions with Dr. Rose. I wrote her words in my journal as soon as I got back to my room. You can only expect people to be who they are, and then you get to decide how to work with that.
“And don’t forget to say thank you to her. This is in large part because she believes in you,” she adds. I hope that’s true.
Dr. Rose gets up and I follow her to the seat by the phone. I glance around the office and take it all in, thinking about how weird it is to look forward to these sessions after spending so many months dreading them.
“Ms. Cooper,” she says into the phone, “I’ve got Jasmine here for you.” She pulls the receiver from her ear and hands it to me.
“Thank you,” I say as Dr. Rose grabs my folder and heads out the door.
“Jasmine, you there?” my mom calls loudly.
A proud smile spreads across my face as I put the phone to my ear. “It’s official, discharge is approved!”
“They finally told her!” Someone claps in the background. “Are you excited, honey?”
“Are you?” I ask, even though I can tell she is by her reaction. I want to hear her say it.
“Ecstatic!” she cries. “We all are.”
“I’m glad you are. I am too,” I say honestly. I ignore that she uses “we” in response to most things these days. It’s still weird to me that she is part of a “we,” and that it doesn’t include me.
“Did they give you the discharge rules and expectations for coming home?”
“Not yet,” I say, suddenly nervous. “What are they? I already know PINS stays on my record forever.”
My mom takes a deep breath. “Yes, but it’s sealed, Jasmine. Like it never happened.”
“Fine, the rules?”
“Promise you’ll just listen?” She sounds uneasy.
“Yes, Mom,” I say, only because I really want to know.
“I don’t remember them verbatim, but for six months there’s absolutely no smoking or drinking, which I don’t think you do, but I’m gonna say it anyway.
No talking to folks from the past, including Desiree—sorry, but that’s firm.
And no social media until I say so. We also have some house rules to go over when you get here. ”
“So, no being a regular teenager, basically?” I ask.
She clears her throat.
“I’m kidding, Mom. I’m just ready to get out of here,” I say, softening.
“And we are ready for that too,” she says. “Good job, honey, I’m proud of you. I also have news.”
I brace myself, though I’m not sure what for.
“Trav, is it okay if I tell her?” Mom says.
I hear a muffled “of course.”
“We’re getting married!” she cries.
My jaw drops but no words come out.
“Jasmine? Hello?”
“I’m here,” I manage.
My mom laughs nervously. There’s whispering in the background. “We wanted to wait until you got out. Travis and Kayla are so excited to meet you,” she says.
I shake off the initial shock and try to find some words for her news. I don’t want to ruin this for her. “Wow, Mom. That’s great. You sound really happy,” I say.
“Oh, Jasmine, I am. And you will be too, because guess what? We’re having a destination wedding in Aruba. We’ll be on the beach in less than two months!”
I perk up immediately when I hear Aruba.
“Now we can have that beach vacation we’ve been talking about for years,” she says.
I can’t help but smile as my mom continues, the shock giving way to a strange excitement. The fact that she’s waiting until I get out to do something that’s important to her means that I’m important to her, too.
“You didn’t have to wait for me, Mom,” I say.
“I wouldn’t do this without you, Jasmine. Oh, and Travis says congrats.”
Dr. Rose opens the door to tell me my time is up.
“I gotta go, Mom.”
“Okay, I love you. Keep being a good girl, please.”
“Love you too, and I will,” I promise.
For a while, I was afraid to make promises to my mom. But for the first time in a long time, I feel like I can keep one.
I’m going home.