The Discarded Ones by James Tipper

Author:James Tipper
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: psychology, family, cult, camp, cults, therapy, troubled teens, escape, behavior modification, therapeutic, boarding school, residential treatment, rma, cedu, rocky mountain academy, cascade school, swift river academy, mount bachelor academy, monarch school, group therapy
Publisher: James Tipper

Chapter 16

Charlie was stunned. At some point during Carolina’s story he had stopped holding her hand. Now, his hands were in his lap, trying to wring the words from them.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a small voice. “That’s terrible.”

“Thanks,” she replied, “I’m okay. At least I’m okay now.”

Kenny Bootman glided past them, stepping over their feet, and spoke to Kevin DeWilt who was playing rummy with two other students at a table nearby. “Can you take your feet off the coffee table?” he asked the boy. “Thanks.” Kenny continued breezily through the lodge and disappeared around the far side of the Pit. Kevin complied resentfully.

Carolina and Charlie followed Kenny with their eyes and then exchanged a bilious look.

Carolina said: “You know, even with The Boot on the rampage, the Agreements, and everything else that is annoying around here, I would still rather be here than at home. Not at first, at first I was freaking out. But now, I’ll take this over being at home anytime. I’ll stay here until they drag me off campus”

Charlie considered this. He had only thought about what he was missing, not what he had gained. It was strict here, but it was safe–at least safer then home could be sometimes.

He looked at Carolina, “I don’t...I mean my story is, well, not as bad.”

“Everyone has problems,” said Carolina. “Yours are just as bad if they control you, if they prevent you from feeling at peace with yourself. Have you met Jonas’ wife, Mary Portman? She runs Raps sometimes. She told me that once.”.

Clearing his throat, Charlie began, “Well…I was born in San Francisco. I never really knew my Dad. He left when I was three...”

Charlie didn’t know why, but he knew he was going to edit the part about his father out, the details at least. His father did leave when he was three; it wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the full truth because there was a lot more to it than that.

He felt conniving as he passed over the subject as if it were an insignificant detail, but the reflex to do so was as powerful as a rubber mallet to the knee.

Carolina had told him things that were hard to hear, and undoubtedly, hard to say. She had not only endured her past, but, she had trusted him and told him all. He knew he owed her some honesty.

He tried again to say the words, to squeeze them through his throat and past his lips. He couldn’t, and every time he attempted to exhume the tale of his father from the tomb somewhere within him, his mind would recoil as if it had touched a hot wire.

He wanted very much to present Carolina with a comparable scar that would make her feel less vulnerable for all of her candor. Surely, his anger, shame and guilt could not be as bad as hers; yet, it tied his tongue in hopeless knots.

With effort, he managed one additional detail: “He left my mother when she was pregnant with my brother, Brandon.

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