Arms Wide Open: a Novella by Juli Caldwell Read Free Book Online Page B

live
in denial a good portion of the time, but I have always believed in full
frontal honesty with others.
    “Lauren, I...”
    I hold up a hand to stop him. “It’s
okay, Grant, really. You saved me. I was death spiraling and you were the one
who helped me when I needed it most. Thank you.” It must be emotional
resolution night, with Jeremy and now Grant, but it feels liberating to tell
him how much it means to me that he made the hard choice to have me committed.
“I’m in a much better place now, you know? I’m finally healthy. You got me the
help I needed. No one knew how sick I was until I snapped.”
    “You look different,” he says, changing
the subject and appraising me from across the table. “This is the Lauren I
remember.” He reaches into his wallet and pulls out a bent and faded picture,
black and white, from those cheap photo booths at the mall. We were best
friends all through high school, and this was one of those blissful days where
we had cash in our pockets and time to kill.
    In this picture, he’s kissing my cheek
and my eyes are wide open, mouth forming a perfect circle as I pretend to be
surprised. Long, frizzy, ash blonde hair spills down my shoulders and out of
the picture, and my hazel eyes are coated in more black eye liner than anyone should
wear in a month. His trademark backwards ball cap is pushed up on his head as
he kisses me, and his eyes turn sideways, gleaming for the camera, while his
brows slant playfully up.
    “It’s the new Lauren,” I say with a
shrug as I gingerly take the photo from him and stare. This was just before
high school graduation, right around the time we decided we were much more than
friends.
    “You look fantastic,” he says.
    “Well, I’m healthy. I really am. Much
healthier than I was when we...well, I had to make up some classes after my
emotional train wreck, but I got a degree in psychology and just finished up a
master’s in counseling.”
    He looks taken aback. “Wow, I didn’t see
that one coming!”
    I hand back the image, that carefree
moment in time frozen on film. His hand brushes mine for just a moment as he
takes it back, and a jolt, hot like wildfire, rushes through my veins. “After
you dropped me like a hot—” I begin, but he cuts me off.
    “I did what I thought I had to do,
Lauren. You were sick.” I can tell I’ve made his guard shoot up. He pulls away,
looking agitated, and I don’t want him on the defensive.
    I laugh, not quite sure what else to do.
“I know! Seriously, I can’t thank you enough for what you did. I spent a few
weeks in the psych ward there, and then moved to residential rehab for some
more intensive treatment. I lived there about a year. But the staff was so
amazing...they inspired me to help others. I’m still looking for work, but I’d
like to help troubled teens, especially homeless girls and foster kids, help
them before they have a psychotic break like I did. Not every girl has an
amazing boyfriend like you to rescue them. Well...when I had you.” I look down.
“So many of them just have pimps, you know? If I can save just one girl from a
life on the streets, it’ll be worth it to me.”
    “I lied,” he says quietly, looking away
and shaking his head. “You’ve changed quite a bit.”
    “I hope so. Crazy girls are only fun at
parties.”
    Silence falls between us and the air
feels heavy with the weight of what could have been. I guess sometimes things
really are better left unsaid. It’s comfortable and awful all at the same time,
being with him again. After so much time apart, I shouldn’t expect that feeling
of belonging to stay. Tears start to well up in my eyes and I’m mad at myself
for letting them form. He’ll think I’m still psycho girl if I let them fall.
    He slides another picture across the
table to me. I snigger and wipe my eyes, hoping he thinks it’s because I’m
laughing at the memory. It’s our prom picture—we went together as a joke. He’s
wearing his