It's My Life - Melody Carlson [62]
“Hi, Rachel,” said Jenny in a friendly voice. “These are my friends, Caitlin and Beanie.” Rachel just nodded, took her cheesecake with both hands, then returned to her exact same spot on the couch to eat it.
“It must be hard being here,” said Beanie as she took her piece.
“Yeah,” said Jenny. “I mean, at first it was totally horrible, nightmarish even. I even felt like I must be crazy too. I figured that most everyone in here was. But lately I've gotten to know a few of them, and they're really not all that bad. Sure, like me, they have their problems and phobias and stuff, but they're really not totally nuts, not all of them anyway. In fact, in a weird way, it's kind of interesting being here now.”
“Yeah, well, it's not your everyday experience,” I said, taking a bite.
“And I've taken your advice, Caitlin, and I've started journaling. My shrink thinks it's great therapy, and I guess it kind of helps me to see everything in a different light.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “My diary came in handy last night when I started second-guessing myself about my nondating rule.”
“See!” said Beanie, pointing at me triumphantly. “I told you meeting Trent last night would be pushing it.”
”Trent?” asked Jenny with a suspicious raised brow.
Then I explained to her about our psychology project and how we'd nearly gotten ourselves thrown out of the library, and then talking at Starbucks until late and everything.
“I had Trent in my biology class last year, and I must admit he caught my eye too. But since he wasn't exactly involved with my group–“she made a fake gagging sound–“well, I just never looked at him too seriously. Pretty dumb, huh?”
“I guess.” I set down my fork. “But he's a really nice guy, and I honestly think he's searching for God in his own way although he does call himself an atheist.”
Jenny laughed. “You've got to watch out for those ones who call themselves atheists.” She pointed to herself. “They're usually the ones who are searching the hardest.”
“Yeah.” I laughed. “I remember when Josh told me that you were an atheist last year. I'd almost forgotten about that.”
“Well, that's what I liked to claim. But I think what I was really doing was just begging someone to step up and prove me wrong. I think I wanted to believe in God but just couldn't. So I made this big deal of calling myself an atheist, just hoping someone would set me straight.”
“That's interesting,” said Beanie. “You know, my mom makes a big deal about not believing in God too. She always made fun of me for going to church and stuff. And she really loved arguing with me about religion. It used to drive me nuts.”
“Sounds familiar,” said Jenny as she licked the last creamy bite from her fork. “Thanks, Cate, that cheesecake was superb.”
We stayed there until five again, just talking and joking. Then I asked Jenny how much longer she'd need to be in here.
“Good question.” She rolled eyes. “On one hand, I think I'm well enough to go home, but on the other hand, the idea of living at home with my mom constantly on my case is kind of scary.” Her voice grew quiet. “I mean, what if I start doing it again?”
“But aren't you all better now?” asked Beanie.
“My shrink says some people never get completely over this. And even if I get released, I'll still need to go to weekly counseling and then into some sort of support group.”
“So do you think he'll be releasing you soon?”
“I think so.” Then her eyes grew sad. “And it's not like I really love it here or anything, but in a way it does feel safe and secure. I'm just afraid I might not be ready to go home yet.”
“Wouldn't it be cool,” said Beanie suddenly, “if we could all three get a place of our own to share.”
“Yeah, sure,” said Jenny sarcastically. “Like maybe we should all go out and start buying lottery tickets or something.”
“Yeah, it's just a stupid idea.” Beanie looked slightly chastised.
“No, not really,