Changing Positions (Brooks Haven Bears 3)

Chapter 3 - Restlessness

Emily

November, Freshman Year

“If you’re going to keep my mouth dry and my hair falling because of meds, why do we need to meet?” I ask my therapist sullenly. It’s only my third meeting with her after I turned eighteen, and it already feels like a lifetime. I’ve been seeing her for almost two years now. The hair thing is an exaggeration, but my mouth is often dry and I’m barely human.

I hate that Dr. Rachel Chen is as sunny as I am sour. I refuse to call her sweet. There’s something about her that’s a little off, but that’s probably just my off-kilter way of looking at things talking. Anyone else may like my therapist. She looks perfect and talks the way she’s expected to. Her black hair is straight and shiny, grazing her shoulders. She wears a suit and her French-tipped fingers look immaculate compared to my bitten fingernails.

“We’ve talked about this with your parents. You’re now eighteen, but would you be more comfortable if your dad were here like before?”

It’s dad who comes with me, of course. There’s one time when Jason came, but that’s it. Mom’s even worse off than I am. So, she is often saved the pain of coming to my sessions when she also has to go on hers. Her meds have her swinging between forgetfulness and apocalyptic clarity. s**t. That doesn’t even make sense, but the word swinging makes sense to and about her. How she’s acting right now is better than her rapid descent into depression when Jason left for the NHL and the mania that followed afterward. We have to walk on eggshells around Mom, not because she’s a horrible person but because she’s so fragile. She’s not even aware that Jason almost lost his dream because of what happened to her.

“I can’t go to all his games now! There’ll be too many, and he has to live in some strange, lonely condo in Boston.”

My father reminded her that Jason would more likely have a great time in Boston. Apparently, they weren’t the right words to say, either.

“No. I’m fine like this. B-but -.” I straighten myself from my signature slouch. I’m eighteen. Things are changing. I need to grow up.

“But what, Emily? You can tell me.”

Of course. She’s being paid a lot of money for it. I grudgingly tell her what I think, anyway. The words have been burning in my chest. Even with my meds, I still feel this horrible ticking feeling inside me – like the end of something is about to come. What’s to dread? People who don’t know me will just tell me I’m an ungrateful b***h.

It’s why I spend a lot of time with Celeste. She helps me take things in perspective. Her panic is normal – like when her rent is due. or when she’s booked two side gigs at the same time. Sometimes, I wonder what she’s up to. Bianca’s gigs were more straightforward – singing and baking. Celeste sells all kinds of things, but she also has a packed schedule that she doesn’t talk about. I’m not one to pry and Hayley barely talks. Who knew anyone can beat me on that front? I have no problems, except for what Mom and I have, and it feels like everything.

“It’s hard for me to feel anything. It’s like I’m watching myself from the outside. Like some floating, cold ghost. Logic tells me I should be acting one way, but I’d usually do something else.”

“You’re fortunate what you have is mild, but it can worsen if not treated.”

“I read some people go untreated,” I say tentatively, hoping she takes the hint. I’m fed up with the meds. I get it. I’m not normal. But do I need to be reminded every time my phone alarm buzzes to signal I need to take a pill?

“You’re right, Emily, but each situation is different. Some go worse, and some live their lives -.”

“Live their lives as that unlikable chick or guy,” I interrupt. I’m tired of people buzzing whenever I enter a room like I’m some kind of freak. I’m careful not too focus on that, though, because they may actually be voices in my head. “Is it really impossible for me to live my life without meds? I’m tired of it.”

“Remember the last time you went off it, Emily?”

Of course, I remember.

“I want to see what it feels like without it,” I insist. “With that experience in mind. I’m older now. I know better.”

“Your case is mild, Emily, but I think you need a lot more support. You need to be with people who understand what you’re going through. So, when you have an episode, they can help without doing anything to further aggravate you.”

“I understand, Dr. Chen. I do have people who look out for me.”

It’s annoying that Jason, Lance, and Hans have chosen me as their pet project. Two down, one more to go. Still, I think of Hans and Celeste when I told Dr. Chen that I have people who look out for me. My dad’s there, of course, but my mom needs him more.

“Give it a week. If you still feel like a zombie or if you still believe you’re better off them, come back to me and we’ll lower your dosage.”

“Thank you.”

We’re both surprised at those two simple words.

**’

During the trial week, I don’t see much of Hans. Strange. It’s almost like he’s avoiding me. I remind myself he has a lot of things going on, like his upcoming graduation, ice hockey, and his shift to graduate school next semester.

“Why would you look for him, Emily? It’s perfect. Now, I can do what I want when I want, “ I mutter to myself.

I don’t drink, but I’ve tried m*******a. Once. It worsened my med’s side effects, and I probably would end up on the local news if not for Hans showing up where I was. It’s almost like he has me on GPS. He’s quite a tracker. So, if he’s not there, it means that he finally left me alone.

Parties? Still not interested.

Boys? Mm. I don’t know any. I mean I know some in my class, but I don’t really know who they are beyond the superficial interactions. I graduated from an all-girl high school, a very small one with spoiled, mean girls. Some of them are now in Brooks Haven U with me, like Stacey Green and Ella Woods. They’ve so far acted as if they haven’t seen anyone of the male persuasion before in their lives. The two have probably gone to every party and dated as many boys as possible.

Maybe I can try it.

I can almost hear Dr. Chen’s voice in my head, reminding me that without my meds, I have taken risks I shouldn’t have. It doesn’t help that my parents yelled at me for the first real tattoo I’ve gotten, and Hans lectured me for the couple of puffs of m*******a. Partying and dating like Stacey and Ella will be a lot less worrying to them. I think.

“Hey, Park!”

Speak of the Devil…

I turn around to see Ella Woods jogging toward me. She has this long blond hair, big t**s, and generous curves in a petite body, almost half a foot shorter than I am, that get her attention wherever she goes here in Brooks Haven U. So, I suspect she’s jogging to get the boys to notice her. Why the hell else is she jogging in a cafeteria?

I’m right. Eyes are on her, following her as she bounces across the cafeteria toward me.

“Yes?”

Don’t be mean, Emily Park. Don’t be mean.

“There’s a party this weekend. There are only three of us here from Ellingwood Prep, you, Stacey, and me. So, why not represent?”

“Where is it?” I ask.

She gapes at me, positively shocked that I look somewhat interested.

“At Stacey’s house.”

“Okay.”

It’s starting to make sense now. Stacey’s parents love me. Her mom is a fan of my mom, and let’s face it, her dad is also a big fan of Mom especially when they were all younger. Yuck. Stacey and Ella will probably use my name to get the party they wanted.

“Emily’s going to be there. Yes, it’s an Ellingwood thing.”

I can already imagine Stacey’s annoying high-pitched voice, and Ella’s snorting, half-nervous giggle.

“You’re going?” Ella still doesn’t get it. I don’t make jokes.

“Yeah, I’m going. Just text me the time and what I have to wear,” I say, shoving my phone at her face.

“Will your boyfriend be there?” she asks, as she taps her number into my phone.

Huh.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, Ella.”

“Not the guy you grew up with me who’s always there? The ice hockey captain?”

I try not to roll my eyes, reminding myself that I’m already eighteen and with all my meds, my eyes will probably stick like that forever. Jason said so when I was eight and I believed him. Asshole. It’s hard, though, because Ella absolutely knows Hans’ name. Her pretending not to know is not cute at all.

“Hans Blom? Nope. Not my boyfriend.”

Where the hell is he, anyway?

“Oh, too bad,” she says, not looking sorry at all. “Well, invite him to the party. Let more people know he’s available. He’s managed to avoid some girls I know because they thought he’s taken.”

I narrow my eyes at her. She’s giving me a half-sheepish grin that probably got her out of trouble too many times.

“Are you inviting me or are you more interested in Hans Blom, hockey captain?” I ask.

“You’re invited, but he can come, too.”

I can’t even be that angry at Ella. I wonder what it will be like not to be on mood stabilizers. Maybe she won’t be standing too close like she’s doing right now.

“I haven’t seen him for days, but I can text him for you, Woods.”

“Awesome, Park! Join us at our table. Please?”

It’s the new me, the one who’s trying to get her therapist to agree that I can live a normal life. Then again, maybe all this will backfire on me. She may tell me that I’m doing well on meds. I exhale sharply, as I approach the table where Stacey, another girl, and four guys are sitting. One of them is openly checking me out, a lopsided grin on his face. He’s cute, but I don’t feel sparks or anything like that. I doubt I’ll ever feel sparks except for that one time when I was manic. I shake the memory away. I’m starting to see Dr. Chen’s point. I don’t like being out of control, and my meds keep me in check. Yet, there’s a part of me that yearns for something more than what I’m feeling.

“Oh, Dylan, stop watching Emily like that unless you’re going to introduce yourself,” Ella teases, swatting the guy. He straightens himself up. He has close-cropped sandy hair and brown eyes. He’s seated, but I can tell he’s a few inches taller than me. He has an athlete’s body. Football? Tennis? I know everyone on the ice hockey team, and I know he’s not in it.

“Hi Emily,” Dylan greets, his voice too deep for someone about my age unless it’s Hans with what he calls his smoky, DJ voice.

“Hi, Dylan,” I say, extending my hand for him to shake. He can also kiss it, too, if he likes, but he pulls me into a hug instead. I immediately stiffen. Only three boys have hugged me my whole life and I think I hear one of them just enter the cafeteria after several days of absence. Blom can be loud.

“Hans!” Ella shrieks.

I pull away from Dylan, glaring at him. He looks a bit surprised, meaning he hasn’t heard anything about me yet.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that, I like to hug.” He doesn’t look like he’s sorry. I’m starting to see a pattern in the kind of people Ella hang out with. I turn my head a little to see Stacey, stabbing her salad with a fork. She was almost sitting on some guy’s lap, but she pulls away as soon as the hockey players enter the room.

“Well, I don’t.”

“Where are you going?” Dylan asks.

“About to talk to a friend,” I mumble as I turn around and make a beeline for Hans, Lorenzo, and Ed. Ella’s already there, batting her eyelashes at Hans. So, it looks like she’s setting me free from my role of inviting him.

“Emily,” Hans says.

I don’t know why, but I feel like there’s something different in how he says my name. It’s almost the same way I say his and he doesn’t quite meet my eyes, either. He doesn’t want to see me.