Fall Into Me

"Are you always this quiet?" Dr. Taylor asks, sitting back in his chair as he studies my file. I shrug, not uttering a sound, and look out the window. The summer weather is just beginning to cool now that it's September. I sigh, taking a mental snapshot of the vivid green trees and the golden glow the sun showers over everything. I always liked summer; it made the world seem like a brighter, more cheerful place. "You know," Dr. Taylor tries again, pulling my attention back to him. "There's a theory that you can identify the majority of a person's characteristics within the first five seconds of meeting them."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and decide to humor him. "You don't say," I feign interest. "Tell me. What does your intuition say about me?"

He is silent for a moment, a thoughtful grin on his face. He may be old—probably somewhere in his mid to late thirties—but he was easy on the eyes, and his eyes were the prettiest shade of blue. Maybe that's why I'm so reluctant to talk to him. Good looking people make me nervous. I feel like they can sense that I'm inferior and will judge me the second I open my mouth and say something stupid. "I can see you made it through the first week in one piece," he finally says. "What have you been up to?"

One week, I think to myself. All summer I had been cooped up in this mental hospital, being watched and evaluated week after week. It took the doctors three months to officially declare me stable. I wonder though. If I'm "fixed" why do I still have to go to therapy with Dr. Taylor? Maybe I wasn't all better after all. "Nothing really," I reply in a dull voice. He frowns.

"Oh, come on now," he presses, now on the edge of his seat. "Nothing new happened? You just got settled back home after three months. There haven't been any changes?" he continues with the third degree. Oh there have been plenty of changes at home. That first day back, my mom had pulled into the driveway, helped me get my luggage into the house, and introduced me to her new boyfriend, Richard. Gone three months and my mom decides to up and get herself a boyfriend without even bothering to clue me in about it. I may not have had a phone while I was in treatment, but there was still such a thing called the post office. But what did Dr. Taylor care about my mom's love life?
"Maia?" he says softly, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"I swear, Doc, my week has been excruciatingly uneventful."

He presses his lips together and scribbles something down on his notepad. Another thing I hate about therapy. All the doctors want to do is dig and dig. They pick at your brain like it's a puzzle for them to solve. Nothing is ever kept off-limits. You aren't allowed to hide away in your comfort zone. They just want you to open up and strip down to your rawest form; no room for any secrets. All the control you worked so hard to master is let loose and all those thoughts you keep locked away are set free to wreak havoc.

I glance up at the round clock on the wall behind Dr. Taylor's desk and my heart nearly leaps for joy. "My mom's gonna be here any minute," I blurt out.

"Is it three already?" he looks at his watch, raising his brows in surprise. "I suppose you're free to go—"

I jump up from my chair without a second of hesitation and book it for the door, giving a hasty goodbye as I pass. "See you next week!" I can faintly hear Dr. Taylor call from his office as I sprint down the hallway, around the corner, and out the double doors of the hospital. Once I step outside, I immediately pull my hood over my head and put my shades on, looking down at the pavement as I walk over to my mom's Volvo SUV. The last thing I need is someone spotting me coming out of a mental facility.

"How'd it go?" she asks, adjusting her mirrors as I slide into the passengers seat.

"Fine," I answer indifferently, putting my earbuds in as we drive away.



"Everyone, this is Maia!" my best friend, Sierra, introduces me to her gang. She told me about them earlier this week. It had been the first time we'd talked all Summer. She doesn't know about me going into treatment—apparently my mom told everyone I went to visit my grandparents in Italy…though I was sure they lived in Florida—and I guess while I was away, she spent her time finding new people to hang out with. There are four of them; three boys and one girl. They all look up at me from their booth at the '76 Diner with curious eyes and I can feel my cheeks burning red. "Maia, this is Jack, Alex, Rae, and Zack," she points out all of them.

"Scoot over," Sierra gently smacks Zack's shoulder. He moves to make room, but there's only enough for one more person in the booth. "Shit, where are you going to sit, Maia?" she turns to me as she sits down.

"Maybe we should get a bigger table?" Rae suggests, a look of sympathy on her face. I smile gratefully, but shake my head.

"No, it's no big deal. I'll um, grab a chair," I say.

"Or you could pop a squat right here," Alex jokes, gesturing down to his lap, making the rest of the boys laugh along with him. I'm not sure why they all find that so funny and the idea of sitting on anyone's lap is just horrifying. I'd rather stand all night than burden someone's poor thighs.
"Uh, no thanks," I mumble, feeling awkward. I spot a chair at an empty table nearby and drag it over. As I take a seat, I feel tense and out of the loop. What if Sierra's friends don't like me? What if she drops me because I'm not cool enough? I can't screw this up. If I lose Sierra, then I really have no one.

"Okay, so!" Sierra calls for everyone's attention. Once everyone's eyes are on her, she continues, "My dad told me that he's closing our pool next week and it just so happens that this weekend my parents are going to be out of town—"

"Pool party!" Rae exclaims, a broad smile stretching across her face. "Perfect timing too. I've been dying to wear my new bikini! It's rattlesnake print!" she adds with glee. Her smile is so contagious that I can't help but smile too. That is until I realize: it's a pool party. The thought of slipping into a bathing suit is enough to make me feel sick to my stomach. I can't do it. There's no way.

"Maia, you're gonna come right?" Sierra turns to me. Again, I feel all eyes on me, boring into my skin like branding rods on a cattle farm.

"Yeah, of course," I nod, mustering a smile for her benefit. None of them can tell that on the inside, my heart is beating fast and I am nervous as hell. What have I gotten myself into?