Free Cut by Patricia McCormick Page A

reviewing the new order of cars in the parking lot and Claire blowing on coffee in a paper cup, until the other girls file in.
    The room is suddenly full of talking and laughing. Sydney is at the end of one of her stories. “That proves I’m the sanest one in the family,” she says, flopping down in her chair.
    “Me too!” Tara practically cries out. Then she stops cold in the center of the circle: Amanda is back and she’s sitting in Tara’s seat.
    Tara gives Claire a pleading look. Claire doesn’t respond; Sydney pats the seat of the chair next to hers, and Tara slips in beside Sydney.
    Suddenly Group is a game of musical chairs. Tiffany comes in, surveys the situation, looks to Claire for help, then plunks into the nearest seat. Becca and Debbie arrive last.
    Becca darts into the seat next to Tara Debbie huffs, then takes the last seat, the one next to me.
    I draw my arms to my side to make room for her.
    There’s a long silence. Somebody complains about the food. Then more silence. Somebody else complains about the bathrooms, then about how nosy the attendants are. More silence.
    “So?” Sydney says to Amanda “Where were you?”
    “When?”
    Sydney looks around the group for help.
    “At breakfast,” Tara says. “You weren’t at breakfast.”
    Amanda smirks. “Room service.”
    Tiffany laughs. No one else does.
    “Seriously,” says Sydney.
    “You really care?” says Amanda “That’s so co-dependent of you.”
    Sydney looks confused, then hurt.
    “I was in the infirmary,” Amanda says.
    “Really?” says Debbie.
    “Really,” Amanda says sarcastically.
    “I heard you had to get a shot,” Debbie says.
    Amanda arches an eyebrow.
    “Didn’t they give you a sedative?” says Debbie.
    Amanda laughs. “Tetanus,” she announces. Then she leans forward and winks at me. “Right?”
    I can’t answer, but I can’t stand to have everybody looking at me either. I nod. Then I go back to looking out the window and wondering whatever happened to that fly that was caught between the glass and the screen.
    After Group, Ruby waves to me from her desk. “You have a package,” she says. “Priority Mail.”
    I know, as soon as I see it, it’s from my mother. The mailing box is covered with cat stickers, the address is written in calligraphy; I wonder what the Sick Minds postman must have thought.
    I tuck it under my arm and start to head back to my room.
    “Hold on,” says Ruby. “You have to open that under supervision. Standard operating procedure.”
    Ruby uses a key to slice through the mailing tape. Inside, nestled in a sea of pink Styrofoam peanuts, is a quilted calico thing. She holds it up. It’s my name, in puffy calico letters.
    On the back is a suction cup. She hands me a note that was lying among the peanuts.
Dear Callie,
Here’s a little something to brighten your room at Sea Pines. The suction cup on the back is so you can hang it on your door. (I checked with the office, since you girls aren’t allowed to have thumbtacks.) Let me know if the other girls would like them. I can make them up in a jiffy.
They said you’re doing better there. That’s good.
Get well soon.
Love,
Mom
    I take the calico name thing and start to walk back to my room.
    “Wait,” says Ruby. “There’s something else.”
    I try to act like I don’t care what it is, like I’m not interested, like I’m not hoping for anything good, anything from my dad, as Ruby hands me a small white envelope.
    I know as soon as I see the front, with my name in blue marker, it’s from Sam. Inside is a hockey card. Not just any card, though, it’s his Wayne Gretzky his favorite. There’s no note, just the card.
    I check to make sure no one’s around. Then I hold the card up so Ruby can see. “My little brother,” I say. “He loves hockey.”
    She puts a hand to her chest. “That’s sweet,” she says. “Real sweet.”
    I slip Wayne Gretzky into my pocket and go back to my room.
    “Where would you like to start