My Kind of Crazy - Robin Reul Page 0,52

I can borrow the car to take you home later.”

She nods. “Yeah, sure. That would be good.”

We’re about halfway to my house when she blurts out, “I spent six months in a psychiatric hospital about a year ago. It was basically a lot of therapy sessions where we talked about impulsive behaviors and relaxation training, and the doctors packed me with pills to help with my stress and emotional outbursts. I think it was easier for my parents to stick me there than to have to deal with me. Parenting is not my mother’s strong suit, in case you haven’t noticed. Honestly, in some ways the psych ward was like a vacation. At least there people paid attention to me and I could count on a hot meal every day. Crazy, huh? Every pun intended, of course.”

It’s a lot to process. I kind of like that we know something about each other that no one else does. She trusts me with her secrets, and it makes me feel even closer to her. I want her to understand that I like being with her and this new information doesn’t change anything, so I say, “Crazy is a relative term.”

“True. So do you want to know why I was there?”

“Only if you want to tell me.”

“I burned down a gardening shed.”

“On purpose?”

“No.” She digs her hands deep into her front pockets. “I don’t know. My father and stepmonster said I did, and that’s why they sent me there. I honestly don’t remember. There are a lot of versions of this story depending on whom you talk to, and after a while they all sort of blur together.”

“Did anyone get hurt?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s good. And you’re feeling better now?”

“Better is a relative term too. Of all people, I’d expect you to understand that.” She exhales loudly. “Anyhow, I’d rather not talk about it anymore.”

“Okay.”

So we don’t.

When we get to my house, the lights are out, and it doesn’t look like anyone’s home. Maybe Dad got the job and he’s out drinking an advance on his first paycheck. At least he’d be working again. I prop my bike against the side of the house, and we head inside and upstairs to my room.

For the next three hours, I show her more Freeze Frame comics and we rank the worst villains and debate if DC is better than Marvel. Peyton tells me about this amazing photography exhibit she saw at a gallery in Boston with all these cool pictures of every major city at the turn of the century. She is so excited and animated when she talks about it that I can visualize each photograph from the way she describes it. It is really cool.

Then she yawns. “It’s getting pretty late.”

“Right, I should walk you home.” I wish she didn’t have to leave. It’s been great to sit and talk with her like this.

Peyton stands, then reaches out to brace herself on my desk chair. “Whoa, I must have gotten up too fast. I feel dizzy.”

“Why don’t you lie down for a minute?” I suggest and she nods.

Then I yawn, and she scoots over. “You should lie down too. You’re tired. You don’t have to stand there like that.”

“Okay,” I say and lie down next to her. It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong that Nick needs to get all hopped up about; we’re just waiting things out.

I ask her if she’s feeling less dizzy, and she tells me that being still is definitely helping.

I turn off the light, because that might be part of what’s making her dizzy. Now the room is completely dark. Peyton says that’s better, and it is. It absolutely is better.

For a long time, we lie there, not talking. Eventually her breaths grow softer and steadier until I’m pretty sure she’s fallen asleep. I suppose there’s no harm, really, if she spends the night. I had friends sleep over when I was a kid. Of course, none of them were girls, let alone one that happened to be dating my friend. We’re just two people lying on a bed in the dark, fully clothed. It’s not like it means anything. Plus, it’s late, and who knows what kind of situation she’d be going home to, so actually I should let her sleep, if I’m looking out for her. That’s what friends do. Look out for each other.

Nothing wrong with that. In fact, right now, everything is perfect.

16

Peyton leaves before I wake up, and we never discuss how she slept over