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Sam couldn't concentrate on Aiden's end of the conversation with his friend, and after he returned the phone to his father, she couldn't concentrate on Garrison and Aiden's words.
She could feel the band that tethered her to Nutfield stretching, trying to pull her back. Any second it would snap, and then what?
She visualized the paddle balls she and her brother used to play with when they were little, the way the little rubber ball would always come back and bounce off the paddle, until it didn't. Until the rubber band broke, and the ball sailed wildly through the air to smash into whatever was unlucky enough to be in its path.
When her band broke, what would she hit? Who would she damage?
She'd lost her mind, agreeing to this, going to a strange place with two people she hardly knew.
She forced a deep breath, blew it out slowly, counted to ten. Did it again.
Think truth, she told herself. What was true?
She knew Garrison and trusted him. Garrison wouldn't let any harm come to her.
But Aiden was just a kid. It wasn't right that she'd put them in this position, not when they were so stressed already. What a terrible idea this was, her joining them. Why had she let Garrison talk her into it?
Looking between the front seats and out the windshield was a mistake. They were headed over a rickety bridge. She squeezed her eyes closed, imagined the icy waters beneath. The current. The cold. The beautiful numbness at the bottom.
No. She needed to remember the truth. It was summer, so the water wouldn't be icy. And they weren't going into it. She was safe.
The car reached the far side of the bridge, and Sam blew out her breath.
Garrison and Aiden didn't need this. They probably didn't even want her here anymore, and they certainly wouldn't if she freaked out. And what if she did? Then what would happen? Garrison would be horrified, and Aiden? He'd be disgusted.
That's what she was. She was disgusting. Ridiculous. She was like a cartoon character of a crazy person, a person trying hard to pretend to be normal when she was so far from normal.
She could feel her blood pressure rising with each mile.
Truth. She had to focus on truth.
"How you doing back there?" Garrison asked. "You're awfully quiet."
I've lost my mind, thank you. I think it fell out about ten miles back. "I'm okay."
"You're doing great. You want me to pull over for a minute, give you a chance to breathe?"
Such a kind offer. Garrison was kind. He'd protect her, and he'd forgive her if she had an anxiety attack. She'd survive this.
Truth.
She'd debated all the way to the cabin that morning about whether or not she should coach him on how to handle it if she freaked out. It seemed so stupid, but if she did have a panic attack, he needed to be prepared. When she'd arrived and Aiden had run to get his shoes, she'd started to. "If I should happen to, you know, lose my mind—"
"I looked it up last night. What a panic attack looks like, how to handle it. Do you take any medications for it?"
She'd been prescribed some. She pulled an orange bottle from her pocket. "One of these."
"Great. Do they work?"
She hadn't taken one in so long, she couldn't really remember. But she nodded just the same. "I'll take one if I start to panic."
"I'll remind you, if you need me to." Garrison had gone to the trouble to research her condition. That was sweet and sad at the same time. She hated to be so needy, especially now that he needed her.
"So...?" he asked from the front seat.
He'd asked her a question. Right. Did she want to stop? "We're almost there."
He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. "You're a little pale."
"I'm okay." And she was. Sure, her heart rate had picked up, but she wasn't sweating. She wasn't feeling sick. She could do this. It didn't hurt that they weren't going far from home, only to Dover, a town she'd been to many times in her life. Even if it had been years, Dover was familiar.
So far, so good. How she would feel in an unfamiliar environment, she didn't know.
They arrived at the facility and pulled up to the guard station. Garrison explained who they were, and a moment later, the gate opened.
"It's like a prison," Aiden said.
Sam looked at the manicured grounds, the pretty flower beds, the athletic fields across the way. The buildings were mostly one- and two-story, aluminum-sided in different colors, scattered across the place. It looked like a college campus.
Apparently all Aiden saw were the guard and gate.
They pulled in front of the building marked for visitors and parked. This one was longer and two-story. There were a couple of entrances. Beyond the one for visitors was one marked Infirmary. She remembered from her research that this place had medical personnel on staff.
Like a hospital. Or maybe like a mental institution. This was the kind of place they'd send her to if she couldn't keep her mind under control. Except mental hospitals probably weren't nearly this nice. She imagined true mental hospitals. Bars on the windows. Angry women manning electronically locked doors. Burly orderlies with syringes of sedatives for the truly crazy ones.
Patients talking to nothing.
Screaming. Padded walls. Shackled wrists.
Her hands shook. Her heart raced. She had to get out.
Garrison opened her door, crouched down to look at her. His eyes narrowed. "You okay?"
She forced in a deep breath and looked around again. A college campus. A small college campus, like a liberal arts school. Nothing scary here. She could do this. She forced another deep breath, blew it out, and nodded.
She took Garrison's hand, let its warmth calm her, and stepped out of the car. A slight breeze caught her hair, lifted it before setting it gently on her shoulders. She picked up a floral scent she couldn't place, the sound of laughter coming from inside one of the buildings, of birds singing in the trees, of the rustle of leaves. Her heart rate was returning to normal. For Garrison, she would do this.
Garrison rested his hand on the small of her back and looked at his son. "Ready, kiddo?"
The boy walked forward, all confidence and swagger. They entered the building and stopped to speak with a receptionist, who asked them to have a seat.
It felt like a hospital waiting room. Smaller, but there were magazines on the tables, a small TV mounted in the corner tuned to a morning show.
Aiden sat on the far side. She'd expected him to cross his arms, maybe slouch a little, but she'd been very wrong about his behavior. He sat up straight, stretched out his legs, and acted like he owned the place. Sam and Garrison had hardly settled when the far door opened and a young man stepped out. He approached Aiden.
"Hey, man. I'm Luke."
Aiden stood and shook his hand. "Aiden."
Oh, my. The boy was behaving like an adult.
Aiden turned to them as they stood. "This is my father, Garrison Kopp, and our friend, Samantha."
Our friend. That sounded nice.
She guessed Luke to be in his mid-twenties. He had light brown curly hair and a slender but fit build.
"You guys follow me. I'm going to give you a tour and answer your questions."
A tour. Her hands started to shake. No. She was okay. This was a drug rehab facility for teen boys, so even if she was crazy, they wouldn't keep her here. She could do this.
If she couldn't do this, well, that'd probably be the end of this...whatever it was with Garrison. Then she could go back to her life as she'd designed it. Considering it was her own design, though, returning to it felt as attractive as a stint in a place like this.