Life on the Level by Zoraida Cordova Read Free Book Online Page A

time.”
    A Hispanic girl raises her hand. “I’m tired of hurting people. That’s what made me turn around and stay.”
    There’s a collective agreement of nods and yeses.
    “When I was kid,” Hutch says, settling back into his chair, “I lived for the days my dad had custody of us. I must’ve been about seven, and I had made the football team. Back then I fancied myself the next John Elway, and there was nothing I wanted more than to throw the ball around with my dad. All he had to do was show up twice a month.
    “My brother was older by three years, but still, he had more sense than I did and realized that I could sit on that front step for hours and hours, but no one was coming.
    “I can’t pretend to tell you all that I know what you’re going through. I don’t know addiction, and I can’t preach to you about the effects of addiction. I can’t tell you anything that others haven’t said a hundred times already.
    “But what I can tell you is that I wish that my father had been as brave as all of you. I wish he’d had the courage to say, ‘I’m tired of hurting my boys.’ That right there is what makes all of you different. No one can make that decision but you. I’m here to listen and offer a hand when you need it.”
    I feel a swell in my chest after his story. I knew we were both orphans, but I had no clue we were abandoned around the same time by one of our parents. This is a much different way to get to know someone after sleeping with them.
    I imagine Hutch as a little boy. Did he have the same warm dark eyes? Did he have this same smile when he sat there waiting for his father to remember him? I know that when it was me, when I was the one waiting for my mother to come back home, I didn’t.
    For the next half hour, the pressure is off me. Everyone takes turns talking about things that are bothering them. Maddie talks about how much she misses her boyfriend. Though, this time his name is Brian.
    Debbie says she’d do anything for just one last hit. She says she dreams about it. She can’t even remember what it feels like. She just wants to remember. Others want to forget.
    The whole time, Hutch listens. He’s their friend when he needs to be. He’s a stern voice when it’s called for. He engages everyone and encourages everyone to participate in the conversation.
    Everyone except for me.
    I guess I shouldn’t be too disappointed. I’m the one who left him high and dry. I’m the one who wanted to leave the moment I saw him.
    “You’re the one who walked out on me, remember?” he asked.
    That’s right. I am the one who walked out. But now I wonder, like so many of the other things that led me here, was that a mistake too?

Chapter 7
    My dad used to say, “I might not always be right, but I’m never wrong.”
    I’ve managed to adapt that as a personal motto when it comes to arguments. Sky says I’m a simply a stubborn ass. As I linger after the session, not really coming or going, I can admit that yes, I’m a stubborn ass.
    First step is admitting it, right?
    Hutch is currently being torn between conversations. On one hand there’s Maddie, talking about whatever Maddie talks about. Then there are two more girls vying for his attention, asking if he’s staying for lunch.
    He keeps his distance from all of them. His body language is pretty clear from here. Arms around his body, so there is no touching. He nods politely to what they say, but doesn’t leave room for flirting. When Maddie reaches for the beautifully chiseled mass of his bicep, he casually takes a step back. Properly dissuaded from the hot counselor, the girls retreat.
    Hutch notices me lingering. He looks around the empty room. One of the doors is propped open. He scratches the back of his head. He shuffles some papers, and it makes me miss my deck of cards.
    “What’s on your mind, River?”
    “Hutch, do you always say people’s names before talking to them?”
    “Well, River, I like to think it helps people