Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
What’s more, did you know she keeps an entire folder with your résumé and potential places to get your recommendations from? There are, like, ten more letters like that coming.”
I’m bracing the dining table with white knuckles, about to lose it.
Bailey did this. Even while she was fighting her own demons, she went and collected letters of recommendation and whatnot to support my application.
She helped me chase my dream while hers was dying in front of her very eyes.
And I, in return, told her she doesn’t have me anymore. Dick move. Definitely a dick move.
The road to hell is full of good intentions and all.
“How do you know I called about that?” I ask Dixie, stunned.
“I knew you should be getting an answer back any day, so I figured your nerves were shot.”
“What did Bailey do exactly?”
“To my knowledge?” Dixie asks. “Got you ten letters of recommendation, including one from the mayor and another from the director of that airplane museum you volunteer at. She also did your extracurricular composite—I’m sure she padded it a little—and contacted your teachers for the teacher evaluation portion. Basically, she gathered all the things your application was missing.”
“But she must’ve done it after the deadline.”
There’s silence on the other end of the line. My heart is pounding so hard, I’m surprised it hasn’t jumped all the way to Pennsylvania.
Finally, Dixie answers. “She called to explain your…uh, circumstances. They gave her twenty-four hours to submit the additions to your application. Don’t ask me how, but she made it happen. One thing’s for sure—when this girl wants something, she gets it.”
I close my eyes and breathe through my nose. I feel like I’m falling apart. Bailey did the undoable. She moved mountains for me. If she can only overcome her own struggles, the sky will be the limit for us.
Dixie must know what’s going through my head. “You did the right thing, Lev. You gave her a shot at claiming her life back. It’s not too late for you two.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve seen the way you look at each other,” she answers, her voice steady and resolute.
“And?”
“And the fire you ignite together vanquishes every shadow around you.”
CHAPTER 42
Bailey
“Great work, Bailey. You’re making excellent progress.” My counselor stops by my table during dinner.
I smile up from my granola-and-yogurt combo. There’s a plate of fresh garden vegetables and a soy pudding next to it for dessert.
I can’t remember the last time I ate so well. Heck, I can’t remember the last time I ate period. Appetite was not my friend these past few months.
“Thank you.” I reach to take Ms. Hall’s extended hand, smiling and actually feeling the smile on my face for a change. “My energy levels are up,” I admit.
Not everything is dandy about my life. I can now see exactly why my parents and Lev insisted I commit to an inpatient rehab program. My schedule is grueling.
The detox is no joke, and we are forced to undergo intense therapy and really dig into those issues that brought us to where we are.
I’ve cried here more than I did my entire adolescent years combined.
I’m overwhelmed, lonely, and hungry for something no pudding or drug can satisfy.
But I am feeling a full range of emotions right now, so I’ll take that as a win.
“Are you coming to play pickleball in the evening?” Ms. Hall inquires.
I shake my head. “I really ought to take care of this leg of mine.”
Ever since I became sober, I’ve been taking better care of my body, and it shows.
Ms. Hall grins, obviously satisfied as she slips her hand from mine. “That’s what I wanted to hear. Enjoy your book tonight.”
Ms. Hall thinks it’s books I’m reading in my room every evening, based on the impressive stack of paperbacks by my nightstand.
But the truth is, my reading material is different.
That diary Mom bought for me for Juilliard and I gutted and made my drug stash? She took it home with her sometime during my hospitalization in New York.
She must’ve because I found it in one of my suitcases when I moved into rehab.
Only now it’s not full of drugs. The box is full of notes she wrote for me.
Ninety-one notes, to be exact. One for every day, and an extra one, just because I love you.
When I found it in my bag, I just about fell all over myself sobbing.
I finish my meal, tidy up, check on a few friends I made here, and walk over to my room.
It is a really nice room, which makes me feel guilty for making Mom and Dad spend all this money. I fling myself over my queen-sized bed and sigh, staring at the diary Mom gave me that seems to be chasing me everywhere.
I pull another note and open it. Mom’s tidy handwriting, cursive and long, like a wedding invitation font, appears.