Page 168 of Spicy Ever After
Gwen is just a counselor. It’s not her fault my parents are manipulative buttholes.
And she’s waiting for me to answer. So are the five other residents in my group.
I can’t remember all of their names. Two guys. The short one with glasses is named Charlie. He keeps pushing his glasses up his nose, even though I don’t notice them slipping. The other guy is big. Really big. And very still. I don’t think he’s moved since we sat down. Maybe his name starts with a J?
One of the three girls is named Olympia. I was too nervous to pay attention when Gwen introduced us, so I have no idea which one.
I think the other girls are younger than me. But J-whatever his name is? He’s got to be four or five years older. Summit House only takes residents between the ages of eighteen and twenty-eight, so he’s gotta be pushing it.
I mentally cut J-Dawg some slack. I’m glad he’s here. At least I’m not the oldest. I already feel pathetic enough.
“If you’re not ready to share yet, Hattie, you can just say pass,” Gwen offers.
But I shake my head. “I’m ready to answer. I just don’t know if I can be honest.”
Gwen’s chin lifts. The others may not be looking directly at me, but I feel their attention sharpen.
“Please be honest. As long as you treat everyone in the group with respect, you can say whatever you want.” Gwen’s voice is gentle but clear.
One of the girls leans forward in her seat like she doesn’t want to miss what I have to say. She’s the only one watching me straight on. She has pale blue eyes and a blond ponytail and looks like the type of tennis-playing girl Margaret would be friends with. The perfect kind of normie that makes life and achievement look like a breeze.
I wonder what the hell Blue Eyes is doing here.
Was she honest when Gwen asked her what she wanted to get out of Summit House?
“Freedom,” I answer finally.
Gwen blinks. “Can you tell us more? What kind of freedom are you hoping for?”
As I have nearly every waking moment for the last five days, I think about Beck. And when I do, I feel this gastric tug of war. One side is Team Longing. The other is Team Guilt.
But, at the heart of it, he’s the reason I’m here.
Am I going to share that with a group of strangers?
Hell, no.
“I… made a deal with my parents.”
Now Charlie and one of the other girls are looking straight at me. Only J-Dawg and Maybe Olympia stare at their laps.
“What kind of deal?” Blue Eyes asks.
My pulse picks up. I’ve never been in a setting like this. A group of strangers focused solely on me. In high school, I got really good at becoming invisible—unless I blurted an impulsive thought or tried to ask another student a question in a non-whisper.
Our six chairs are arranged in a circle. The room is comfortable, lots of natural light from the picture windows. This side of the house backs up against Balboa Park. I can see palm trees.
But the soothing surroundings don’t do much to put me at ease. There’s nowhere to hide. Shouldn’t I get some of their back stories before I share mine? I’m the newbie, after all.
“I’m sorry,” I say to Blue Eyes. “What’s your name again?”
“Sadie.” She says it firmly and doesn’t take her eyes off me when she points to the other girls on either side of her. “That’s Olympia.” She points to Maybe Olympia, and I congratulate myself on getting it right. “And that’s Maddie.”
I was wrong about her. Sadie wouldn’t fit in with Margaret’s crowd. She doesn’t smile enough. And she’s a blurter.
For the moment, I conveniently ignore the fact that I’m a blurter too.
Stalling, I point to the two guys in turn. “You’re Charlie. And your name is… J?—”
