Free The Believing Game by Eireann Corrigan

September, the rest of my life started back up again. And real life wasn’t camp. And I was busy picking out a new camp anyway. Do you get it?”
    â€œIt’s hard to get past the idea of hot-air balloon camp, frankly.”
    Sophie exploded in giggles. “Shut up, judger.” But then she got serious again. “Maybe this isn’t real life.” Sophie waved her hand around my sparse little dorm room. She must have seen me back away from that because she rushedto say, “I know that it feels real. The system and the treatment team and all the serious talks we’re having. But eventually we’re all going to have to go home. And God, I hope you and Addison stay close and he drives out to see you. I hope your frosty-pants parents love him and you go apply to the same colleges or move to Seattle together or whatever you crazy kids have planned. Whatever you want, Greer, I wish it for you. But maybe you’ll get home and want something different. So maybe you shouldn’t jump through so many hoops for him now. These are some serious hoops, you know?” She sat back. I felt myself exhale. “I’m sorry.”
    â€œNo, it’s okay.” My eyes felt hot and shiny, though. I couldn’t make myself imagine home. That word didn’t even really fit anymore. Addison. He was where I lived now. That’s how it felt.
    â€œYou’re still going to do it, though.” Sophie sounded resigned but not in a bad way. I realized then that I didn’t like thinking of home without Sophie there too.
    I told her a little while later, after the lights had blinked on and off, three times in quick succession — Lights-out. Bedtime. Moving on. — I said, “If we met at camp, you would have been my best friend and I would have e-mailed you every single day afterward.”
    â€œNo way.” Sophie stood up and tossed her hair back. “I would have been too busy making out with my camp boyfriend to even learn your name.” I threw my one lonely pillow at her. She slipped out and the door clicked closed behind her.
    My toothbrush and its accompanying liquid privileges sat in their plastic bucket on my dresser. I ran my tongue over myteeth and considered making a run for the bathroom to wash up. But the lights blinked again. Warning. I didn’t want to risk an infraction for something as stupid as brushing my teeth. Curfew needed to be as uneventful as possible for the next few days.

The night Joshua actually stayed over, I felt almost like my old self. We’d decided on a Tuesday, since he ran a campus group then anyway. Besides, it’s not like floor faculty would expect any weekend hijinks so early in the week. Addison told me not to worry about it. Sophie said, “But how is he getting in?”
    â€œI dunno.” I slid her a look. “I’m not gonna worry about it.”
    â€œOkay, then.” She held up a deck of cards. “Want to play Set?” We played two or three rounds before Sophie noticed me checking the clock. “Any idea when this shit goes down?”
    â€œNope.”
    â€œIt’s like we’re waiting for Santa.”
    That made me laugh. “That’s what I used to say every Christmas Eve. When I was a sweet little girl, I’d be hanging out in my feetie pajamas, looking up at the chimney, and I’d ask, ‘When does this shit go down?’”
    â€œI bet you did.” Sophie grinned and then got serious. “Listen. Anything weird, anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, just yell.”
    â€œYeah?” It felt good to think that Sophie had my back on this.
    But she said, “Yep. You just yell really loudly and then Jenn Sharpe will bust in to blog about it.”
    â€œI feel loads better now.”
    Sophie took my chin in her hand and made sure I was looking her in the eye. “Okay, for real now. Fuck curfew. I am going to be patrolling this hall like Ms. Ling on meth. I