Then
Tanya’s discharge date just happens to fall on the day before mine, and the unit is really excited for her to go home.
She has been here almost two years for stealing a bunch of money, a TV, and some other expensive stuff.
I think the staff is happy to be rid of trouble and the girls are happy to be rid of drama.
Tanya seems less excited about leaving than everyone else and I can’t say I don’t get it.
As the days go by, I get more and more nervous about being outside, and about the expectations that come with it.
I can barely follow the rules in here. How am I going to make sure my mom isn’t ready to send me back every day?
Ms. Bree said I could miss Tanya’s breakfast since mine is tomorrow, but I don’t want to rain on her parade.
Instead, I take my time getting ready before making my way to the dining room, where Tanya is giving a speech.
I slide into an open seat in the back and put two pieces of French toast on my plate.
One of the girls glares at me when I ask her to pass the syrup.
She shoves it across the table before quickly turning back to Tanya, who is rattling off the ingredients of the shepherd’s pie her mom’s making tonight.
I tune the story out and let my racing thoughts take over.
I don’t talk to Amari, and I can tell it’s driving her crazy. It’s no better for me, either. I’m afraid to get in any more trouble, so even when she tries, I don’t engage. I miss our old routine of passing notes and sharing a notebook of poems and undetected adventures, but look where that got me.
I take a bite of French toast and can’t even concentrate on chewing it. I spit it out.
“Jasmine, seriously?” Ms. Bree interrupts my thoughts from behind me. “Eat faster. I let you come to this late. You can’t be late to class.”
I push the food around some more. “Do I have to?”
“You absolutely do,” she says with a chuckle. “Last day or not.”
I peek over at her. “No one’s even gonna miss me.”
She sighs. “Eat, Jasmine. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”
Samantha taps my shoulder a few moments later as the dining room clears out. “You actually have to leave tomorrow or this is gonna be sad,” she says.
“Uggghhhhhhhhh,” I groan, but I’m happy to hear her voice. She finally gets to move back on the unit tonight since Tanya’s bed is open.
As Ms. Bree calls for us to join the line, Samantha puts a note in my hand.
“What’s this?”
“Something I’m only giving you because you’ve been sulking. You should throw it away.”
I tell her I appreciate her even bringing it to me because if she got caught with it, we’d both be in trouble.
“Whatever, throw it out with the plate,” she says.
I take another bite of the cold French toast before tossing it. The dining room is empty except for me and a few balloons. Tanya took her banner to decorate the locker at her new school.
I squeeze the note in my palm and consider reading it. Then I take Samantha’s advice and drop it in the trash. I’m not taking any more risks.
“Jasmine, now!” Ms. Bree yells.
I walk quickly to join the line. Amari looks for me and smiles when she sees me at the back.
Ms. Kim taps her on the shoulder. “Eyes ahead.”
“Okay, walk, everyone,” Ms. Bree commands.
I step forward.
The unit is pretty quiet that night. I spend most of it in my room, and Ms. Bree even lets Samantha stay with me for a bit.
Sam tells me that Mark is planning a trip to Paris since her dream is to get engaged under the Eiffel Tower.
It’s why she’s not going to run anymore—because she has to make that happen.
I believe her. Then she asks me about the note and I tell her I threw it out.
“Proud of you,” she says.
I put Amari out of my mind as much as I can and try to give Samantha my undivided attention until I fall asleep.
The next morning, I’m tired. I slept fitfully, probably because my body knows what my mind hasn’t fully processed: that after twelve long months, I really and truly am leaving today.
For my farewell breakfast, I asked for donuts, a group favorite.
I try to picture having a donut with these girls I’ve spent twenty-four hours a day with—eaten with, showered with, studied with, sometimes laughed and cried with.
Tanya won’t be there, and I can imagine the mood will feel lighter without her.
While I didn’t get close with many people here, I also didn’t give anyone reason to dislike me. Which means that my farewell meal might actually be fun. It might do what it’s supposed to and give the girls here a sense of purpose—of hope—that their own last day will arrive soon enough.
But then I think about facing Amari during the meal, sitting across from her with the knowledge that we won’t see each other for a while, and that when we do, everything will be different.
Knowing her, she’ll either start something and make my goodbye all about her, or she’ll put on a brave face and say nothing at all, which would probably be worse.
Beyond that, I can’t imagine smiling for the other girls, pretending I’m happy to go home, when it’s so much more complicated than that.
Because while I can’t wait to get out of here, the truth is, I’m also scared.
Scared of meeting my new stepdad and stepsister.
Scared of facing my mom, knowing her choices sent me here as much as mine did.
Scared of discovering just how much this place has changed me, or maybe how much it hasn’t.
I make a decision. I’m not going to attend my farewell breakfast. I’ll forgo the donuts and spend the time on my own, gathering my thoughts before facing my mom.
After all, I came here alone, and I’ll leave alone.