Free Last Summer by Holly Chamberlin Page A

littering, and she could get in trouble with the police. Or maybe a wild bird or a fish would accidentally eat some of the pieces of paper and choke. That would be horrible. She could never live with knowing she had hurt an innocent animal.
    Rosie touched the scars on her left arm through the sleeve of her cotton blouse, then abruptly pulled her hand away. She didn’t like to feel the scars, but sometimes she couldn’t resist the urge to affirm that they were still there. It was upsetting and it was another thing she had yet to talk to Dr. Lowe about. With a sigh, she pushed off the washing machine and went back upstairs and into the kitchen. Her mother was there, at the sink, washing out the vegetable bin.
    “Do you want something to eat?” her mother asked.
    “No,” Rosie said, wondering why she hadn’t just gone straight to her room. “Thanks.”
    “You didn’t have much of a breakfast.”
    Rosie bit back an impatient remark. “I’m fine,” she said.
    Minutes of silence followed as Jane finished scrubbing the plastic bin and then reached for a paper towel with which to dry it.
    “I saw you talking to Meg out back,” she said when she had returned the clean bin to the fridge.
    Rosie tensed but said nothing in reply.
    Jane leaned against the sink and looked carefully at her daughter. “What did she say to you?”
    “Nothing.”
    “She had to have said something.”
    Rosie sighed. Since when, she wondered, had her mother become so annoying? “Fine. She said they were worried about their basement flooding yesterday.”
    “That’s it?” Jane asked.
    “And she said that her apology was sincere.”
    “What did you say to her?”
    “Nothing.” Rosie took a dish towel from a drawer by the sink and started to dry the few already dry plates in the drainer.
    “Do you believe that Meg is truly sorry?” Jane asked. Rosie shrugged. She wasn’t sure how to answer that question.
    “You know, Rosie, you don’t have to forgive Meg, but you might feel better if you did.”
    Rosie turned to face her mother. “How would I feel better?” she demanded.
    “Well,” Jane replied, “you would feel better in lots of ways. For one, studies have shown that when a person forgives someone who did something hurtful to them, her blood pressure goes down and she feels less anxious and more empowered.”
    “So?” Since when, Rosie thought, had her mother started talking like a textbook?
    “So,” Jane said, “it’s a health issue, for one, physical and emotional. I’m sure Dr. Lowe can tell you more about it.”
    Rosie tossed the dish towel onto the kitchen table. “Are you sticking up for Meg?” she cried. “Next you’re going to tell me I have to invite Mackenzie Egan over for dinner! Or ask Courtney Parker to stay overnight!”
    “No, no, Rosie,” her mother protested, “please. I’m not sticking up for Meg and I’m not suggesting you have anything to do with Mackenzie Egan and her clique. I’m not. All I’m suggesting is that you think about forgiving Meg. You don’t have to be her friend again. Just—forgive her.”
    Rosie didn’t say anything for some moments. “Do I have to see Dr. Lowe every week?” she asked finally. The question was a bit of a test. Rosie wasn’t entirely sure why she had asked it. She wanted to see Dr. Lowe every week.
    “Yes,” Jane said firmly. “Your father and I think it’s a good idea. You like her, right?”
    “She’s okay.” Rosie was lying. Dr. Lowe was more than just okay. But for some weird reason she didn’t want her mother to know that. She wanted Dr. Lowe to be entirely her own.
    “Do you feel she’s helping you understand things?” Jane asked.
    “Yeah,” Rosie said. “I guess. Yes.”
    “Good.”
    Rosie looked closely at her mother. “You look like you want to say something else,” she said.
    Jane shrugged. “Just that, you know, I think we should understand that Mackenzie Egan must be a very sad person. Only people who feel bad about