was saying. “So . . . you haven’t ever talked to my parents about what happened?”
Rose’s gray eyes pierced through me. “I’ve talked with your mother twice. I know the basics, yes, but I don’t know what actually happened. Somehow I doubt even she knows what
actually
happened. Am I right?”
I cleared my throat and sat back into the couch, tucking one leg under me as I did whenever I was trying to process something. Rose was right. No one knew what had happened, because I was the only one there to survive. I shivered at the thought and peered back up at her with a new resolve. I didn’t want to be the only one to know, to carry this burden. “So, do you talk to Doris about all of your patients or am I special?”
Rose tilted her head. “Oh, I have no doubt that you’re special. But I usually talk to both of them as needed.”
I lowered my eyes to the woven area rug under the sofa. It was a thousand shades of green and didn’t match anything else in her office. I wondered if she bought it in the Market or if one of her patients made it. Maybe she made it. “So what did Doris say about me?”
Rose leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “That you’re ready.”
I hesitated. Was I ready? “I want to be.” Emotion swirled through my chest, and I fought to rein it in. I didn’t want to start the session by crying. That would come. For now, I just wanted to talk to someone who wouldn’t judge me.
“Okay then,” she said, leaning back into her chair. “I know what happened must have been traumatic. Horrifying, even. I can see it in your eyes, the deep frown lines on your face when you come here. I know that it must be hard to relive that night, so why don’t we start with the day of the incident? Close your eyes, relax, and tell me about that day. Not the incident itself. Just the day.”
I glanced at Rose to find her nodding at me that it was okay. I closed my eyes, and as though I stepped through a time machine, there I was, feeling Parker’s damp grass seep through my sandals as Matt and I made our way to his house. Parker’s parents had been out of town for the weekend, and his house was already overflowing with people. Matt opened the door for me and instantly, I heard my name shouted from the back patio door. Trisha.
I clenched my teeth together, a cold sweat bursting across my forehead. I started to open my eyes and felt Rose’s hand close over mine. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re here. Tell me what you remember.”
“I remember the grass being wet.”
“Good, go on.”
I cleared my throat, my legs shaking.
“Olive?”
“I remember Matt’s voice. How he had tried to make himself sound cooler than everyone else. It annoyed me. Embarrassed me.” My voice broke at the honesty of my words. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”
Rose scooted closer to me. “Okay. But you will never heal until you are able to talk about this. Remember, this is just the day.”
I dipped my head and ran my free hand over my eyes. I finally swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay.”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
I closed my eyes again and began speaking, describing each detail as quickly as the memory hit me.
Matt had gripped my hips as we entered the house and kissed the back of my neck, but I was already distracted by Trisha’s calls from the patio. I separated from him and cleared the back double doors to find Trisha at a Ping-Pong table. Across from her were Alec Martin and River Hampton, both on the lacrosse team and both on Trisha’s short list of guys she wanted to get with.
She winked at me, her mascaraed lashes showing off the green in her eyes. Her curly black hair was pulled into a high ponytail because she hated the way the humidity made her hair spazz out.
I gripped the edge of the couch, on the verge of hyperventilating. Rose pressed an easy hand to my back, steadying me. “Remember, you’re safe here.”
I nodded. “I just . . . need a minute.”
We