Dancing with Molly - Lena Horowitz Page 0,69

right on time. I saw his truck turn onto our street, and he even turned off his headlights like he was in some spy movie.

The sound of the ladder hitting the house seemed deafening to me, but my door didn’t open. I slid the window up as quietly as I could and looked down. Reid grinned up at me.

S’up Rapunzel? he whispered.

I rolled my eyes. The drop suddenly seemed so far, but this was the only way. My heart pounded like crazy as I put one foot out, then the other. The ladder was pretty steady, but I was still terrified as I started down it. Every second I expected to hear one of my parents shout at me from above, but they never did, and then, I was on the ground. I grinned at Reid and ran for his truck.

The ladder! he whisper-shouted.

Leave it! I cried back. Just get me out of here!

I was just racing around the front of the house when my sister opened the front door with a book in her hand. Going to read on the porch swing like the picture of perfection she is. She took one look at me and I froze. I pleaded with her with my eyes and for half a second, I was sure she was going to take pity on me and let me go. Then, Reid came around the corner.

Mom! Ashley screeched. Mom! Dad! Get out here!

And the rest is history. I’m locked in my room again, and now I can’t even text my friends.

I fucking hate Ashley.

Monday, July 14

I’ve been out of the house twice since my last entry, both times to counseling with Mr. Soul Patch. He wants me to call him Tim, so I call him Mr. Burbridge. So far, I haven’t said anything to him. Not one word aside from “Hello, Mr. Burbridge” and “Bye, Mr. Burbridge.” My mom goes in to chat with him after the sessions. When she comes out, she looks more pissed off than I’ve ever seen her and won’t speak to me on the way home. There’s a lot of not speaking going on around here in general.

So, get this, I’m allowed out of my room. Know why? Over the weekend, my parents had a new alarm system installed and every time you open a window or a door, it announces which window or door has been opened. Yeah. I’m officially living in a loony bin.

Also I officially have no life. The first thing I did when I got back from counseling was check my e-mail to see if Jess or Carson responded to the rants I sent them this morning. Neither one of them did.

Wednesday, July 16

I’m so bored! Honestly, how much reality TV can one person watch before their brain melts? I keep trying to read, but whenever I start, my mind wanders and I realize I’ve read the same sentence ten times, or that I’ve been staring at the wall for ten minutes thinking about nothing. I’m so bored that I actually talked to Mr. Soul Patch this morning. He asked me how I was feeling and I said, Like shit.

So, he asked if I wanted to elaborate on that, and I said, Runny, mushy, smelly shit?

I expected him to get angry, but he laughed.

We talked for like five more minutes after that, mostly about how pissed off I was, because that’s all I feel. Angry. All the time. I don’t understand what my parents are so fricking tense about. So I went to a few parties. Obviously I’m not addicted to anything or I’d be jonesing for a fix right now, right? That’s the thing about molly. It’s NOT ADDICTIVE! Why doesn’t anybody get that? Why won’t they let me make my own decisions? I’ve been a good girl my whole entire life, never stepped a foot out of line, and the one time I try to have a little fun everyone goes apeshit crazy. It’s so not fair.

So, I said all this to Soul Patch, and he said, You don’t understand why your parents are worried about you? Why they’re afraid for you?

My jaw clenched, and I said, no. I wish they’d just get the eff off my back.

He wasn’t smiling anymore when he said the session was over.

Friday, July 18

I got an e-mail from Jess today. First one in four days. She got a job at the Dairy Queen for the rest of the summer, so I guess she’s busy. I guess Carson’s