Learning Seventeen by Brooke Carter

Author:Brooke Carter [Carter, Brooke]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781459815551
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2017-11-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

When you almost kill yourself and then end up back at Baptist reform school, they have a tendency to go extra heavy on the reform. The overall rule is that until I’m deemed less of a “danger” I can’t leave my room except for class or meals or to use the bathroom. To be honest, that is fine by me. I don’t want to socialize. I just want to lie in bed and sleep.

The other thing that’s different is that I’ve been assigned a new counselor, a psychologist named Dr. Lamp. Apparently, counselor Terry was just barely adequate and took a leave of absence. The new counselor is supposedly the bee’s knees, as Nicky would say, and has a much higher success rate with curing kids of their various evils. He’ll have his work cut out with me. I’m meeting with him later today. But until then I’m staying in bed.

Mouse has been scurrying around me, casting anxious glances my way as if I’m going to jump up and infect her with suicidal tendencies at any moment.

“Mouse,” I croak, my throat still sore from having a tube stuck down it. “What did I miss while I was gone?”

“Her,” Mouse squeaks.

“Her? Who?” I ask.

“You haven’t seen her? She’s across the hall. She’s enormous.”

“What? Mouse, are you saying a giant moved into No Hope while I was, um, indisposed?”

Mouse shakes her head. “Not a giant. A star. Like, someone who could be an actual celebrity one day.”

I laugh. Mouse is a tabloid junkie, and her contraband is forbidden at No Hope. “Really? A celebrity?”

“You’ll see,” says Mouse. “She’s cinematic.”

“What are you, in love? Joining my team, Mousie?”

Mouse frowns. “No, I just wish I was like her,” she says sadly.

“Come on, Mouse. God made you perfect, don’t you know?”

She shrugs.

“Well,” I say, “let’s see this ‘star’ of yours.”

Curiosity has always been my downfall. I drag myself out of bed and open our dorm-room door. The door across the hall is ajar, and so far I see nothing amiss. I listen and can hear the faint sound of someone whispering. But then a blur of red curly hair comes barreling out and nearly knocks me down.

“Whoa!” I yell, and then, because yelling hurts my throat so much, I start coughing. Then, because coughing hurts so much, I have to go sit back down on my bunk. I feel so weak.

“You. Are. A. Legend,” says a honey-slick voice. I finally look up, and I swear my heart stops for a moment.

Standing over me is the most magnificent redheaded specimen I have ever seen. She is tall, broad-shouldered, curvy as hell and practically vibrating with kinetic energy. Mouse was right. Cinematic.

“Um,” I start, not normally at a loss for words. “What?”

“You’re Jane, right?” asks the red goddess.

“Y-yeah. And you are?”

“Oh. I’m Hannah.” She plops down next to me on the bed, and her scent wafts over me. It is a refreshing mixture of green apple, vanilla, body heat and the sweetly seductive scent of girl. I take a deep breath, and my head spins.

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