Don't Let Me Down by Erin Hosier

Author:Erin Hosier
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria Books

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Two weeks later Lewis and I both found ourselves in Dr. Nancy’s exceedingly floral-patterned office space for part two of Project Intervention. Part one had taken place the week before, when we’d all met surreptitiously with the turtleneck-clad juvenile counselor, whose role it was to facilitate a teachable moment about treatment options for wayward teens. Lewis was there because Dad thought Simon was looking for role models and looked up to me and my friends. Plus, I needed a ride. Unfortunately for Lewis, he was the only person there who wasn’t a blood relative.

At this second meeting, we sat in a circle, Dr. Nancy in the middle with Mom in the chair to her left, then me, then Lewis, then Greg, the hot seat meant for Simon, then Dad to Dr. Nancy’s right. When Simon came in the door he was already seething and seemed only a little bit surprised to see us in the round, most likely having been tipped off by the unmistakable chamomile stench of a suite of therapist offices. He paused to look at us all incredulously before slumping down hard in his appointed chair, momentarily accepting his fate. He folded his arms across his body and leaned forward so his dirty-blond hair hung like a curtain to his shoulders, the tips of it dyed lime green. I knew I couldn’t look at him or I’d laugh or cry or do something to make it about me, so I looked down at the soles of my Chucks and concentrated on the places where the rubber tread had come unglued.

Nancy began by introducing herself as a neutral party, a person who was there not to judge but to listen. She was there because Simon’s family (and . . . Lewis) had become increasingly concerned about him and wanted him to know that he had a support system he could count on. This wasn’t about blame, it was about acknowledging that our family had broken apart and we needed help coming back together. We had each prepared a letter to share our observations and concern and we would read them aloud, after which Simon would have a chance to respond.

My brother kept his head down as his feet hit an invisible drum pedal on the carpet. He shook his head and mumble-hissed, “Whatever” under his breath. Nancy held a folder of brochures in her lap; we held crinkly pieces of yellow legal paper.

“Simon, your mother would like to speak first. Let’s listen to what she has to say.”

Already weepy, Mom unfolded her letter on her lap and in a trembling voice offered forth the evidence she had about the stolen money and the marijuana smoking in the house.

“What money? I didn’t take any money! You just hate my friends!” Simon screamed, opening up his arms as if to make himself a bigger target. “You’ve been nothing but a hateful bitch ever since Dad moved out, and I can’t wait till I can move in with him.”

Mom winced and looked down at her lap, already defeated.

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