I shake my head. I haven’t shared yet, and today doesn’t seem any more likely.
“I wish you would. It’s good to get support from your peers.”
I don’t argue with her like I did with Kimberly. It’s not worth the lecture. They’re not my peers, and aside from Susan, I don’t talk to anyone. I keep to myself. I do my chores. And I wait for Kim. My alone time is spent on the bench either sitting next to Susan or by myself.
“Bodhi, I want to tell you that I’m really proud of the progress you’ve made. It doesn’t matter how long you were addicted; the fact of the matter is that you’ve been trying, and trying is very important.”
“Thanks,” I say as Dr. Rosenberg leaves my room, ending my session. I’m trying not to count how many sessions I have left because that means I won’t see Kimberly every day anymore, but damn if I’m not ready to go home.
No, that’s not entirely true. Physically I may be ready, but mentally…I’m still wavering.
—
“What are you doing?”
I look up at the sound of Kimberly’s voice and watch her walk toward me.
“Learning this song.”
She sits down in the grass next to me, crossing her bare legs underneath her. I have to look away because impure thoughts race through my mind about what I’d like to do with those legs of hers.
“Is it a good one?”
“I’m not really sure,” I say with a shrug. “Sometimes we get songs that we think are good and we record them, only to have them turn out like shit.”
“Do you like being in the group?”
I put the lyrics down so I can focus on her. This is something new for me. Before coming here I would’ve kept reading and offered only one-word answers. But Kimberly is important to me, and I have to find out how I’m going to keep her in my life.
“I do. I love it. The guys, Brayden and Carson, they’re like my brothers.”
“But the drugs?”
Shaking my head, I pull my knees to my chest. “It’s not just the drugs. There’s drinking. We party a lot. A lot of people think it’s because we have nothing better to do, but that’s not true. The industry sets up all these events, and they pay us to make appearances, to have our photos taken.”
“How has your absence been explained?”
I shrug, not really sure. “I think the cover was a long vacation. I don’t really know. Our manager is tough, but she pushes us to be the best. It’s paid off, you know, aside from the initial exhaustion and my poor choices.”
Kim stops with the questions after that response and we sit in silence, watching the people around us.
Eventually she asks, “Do you want to go for a walk with me?”
I can’t help but laugh because I’d go anywhere she wanted me to. “I think you know the answer to that question.” I stand and offer her my hand, a sneaky way to hold her hand without anyone being suspicious of my actions. Even after she stands, I hold on a bit longer than would be deemed normal and wait for her to pull away. I enjoy the way my body feels when I touch her, even in the most innocent ways. When she looks up at me through her blond locks, I see in her eyes that she likes the way our hands feel together.
Reluctantly she lets go and starts walking. We stroll past the horse barn and toward the field of wildflowers. She pauses when we come to a shed and asks me to wait outside. I do, but am curious as to why. Does she think I’ll put the moves on her in there? Or maybe she knows I will. I wouldn’t even hesitate to kiss her in that shed, where no one can see us.
Kimberly emerges with something large in her hand, covered by a blanket. “Follow me,” she says, and instead of heading into the wildflowers, she turns and takes one of the trails into the woods. We come to an open spot, where it looks like there have been a few campfires.
“My dad uses this for his outside therapy sometimes. He likes to get away from the house and let his patients yell if they need to.”
“Makes sense,” I say, reaching for the blanket, but she moves away from me.
“Turn around and close your eyes,” she demands with a smile. I do as she says and contemplate looking over my shoulder to peek. I’m praying that she’s undressing and wonder if I should start taking off my clothes as well.
“Okay, you can look now.”
I turn around to find her standing next the blanket holding a guitar, still clad in her clothes. The grin on her face tells me that this is supposed to be a good thing, and I don’t have the heart to tell her I can’t play. Hell, I have zero talent.