🌹Rosalie🌹

It's been four days. Four days of my mom sleeping in my bed with me. Not out of fear of my mental health, but as a barrier to me sneaking out in the middle of the night and canoodling with Nolan. It's also been four days of getting a ride to school with my mom, and her picking me up immediately after cheer practice. She even waits out the last fifteen minutes of practice along the fence of the field, right there ready to whisk me away at the last whistle.

We haven't talked about me and Nolan. Darren knows. It's made morning breakfast a real hoot. And don't even get me started on the fun that is dinnertime. Darren talks far more than is usual, filling the time with countless stories and leaving little room for me or Nolan to get a word in, let alone talk to one another.

The only moments we've had is at lunch time, though getting away from prying eyes is never easy. Everyone always has something to gossip about, always searching for the next big scandal. With Genevieve already hot on our trail, it's made sneaking around that much more difficult.

It's why we've resorted to the hillside a mile away from the school, just me and him and the flatbed of his truck. I lie beside him, his hand in mine, the heat of the midday sun beating down against us.

"When are you going to bring the Camaro out?" I ask.

"I don't know. I still have a few things to fine tune."

I nod. "And your dad? Has he said anything?" I ask, shifting the topic slightly and tilting my head to look at him. He told me about the talk with his dad at the shop, about telling him he's going to New York. It's the first time he's opened up to him about what he wants, a dream slightly different than his dad's.

"Not since he came to the shop," he answers.

"My mom hasn't said anything either."

He looks over at me, his eyes much more blue than gray beneath the open sky. He reaches up his hand, brushing my hair from my face.

"Do you still have a session today?" he asks.

"Yeah," I answer. "It's going to be different without you."

My mom is taking me to therapy today. It's a change that isn't necessarily terrible, but it won't be what it's been. I won't have Nolan's smile, the warmth of his hand in mine, the quiet drives back and the pitstops in the field. A moment to decompress before returning to reality.

He smiles, a pain behind his eyes as he leans in. "I'll be at the next one."

"Nolan..."

"Red," he stops me. "If you want me there, I'll be there. I don't care what our parents say about it."

I smile. "Maybe we should just run away together."

He pulls me into him, his smile wide. "Oh yeah? Where would we go?"

"Somewhere magical."

His lips find mind, the heat of his mouth setting my chest ablaze. I lean into him, letting our hearts beat in rhythm.

When we part, his eyes are on mine, his hand along my cheek, his thumb grazing my bottom lip. "You are my somewhere magical, Red."

I bring my lips back to his, pushing myself on top of him as his back falls to the bed of his truck. I swing my leg over, taking control and pushing myself into him as I deepen our kiss. His hands slide along my waist, working their way up my back before plunging into my hair.

"How much time do we have?" I breathe out.

He glances down. "Lunch is over in ten minutes."

I nod, bringing my lips back to his and consuming every last minute we have together.

***

I grip the vibrant yellow pillow within my lap, the same yellow pillow I've found comfort in since my very first session. I've found it peculiar that such a cheerful color be placed in such a gloomy environment. One filled in the rumors of inner demons and tortured pasts. Maybe there's a thought process there. A whole hidden agenda of emotional color meant to evoke happiness.

"So, you said your mom brought you here today?" my therapist asks.

"Yeah," I answer, looking up at the woman poised elegantly in front of me. Her hair is pulled back just as it always is, a few brightly bleached curls flying freely around her face. A pair of thick rimmed glasses frame her deep brown eyes, a soft gaze looking back at me. "I told her about my eating disorder a few days ago. She insisted she take me."

She nods. "What changed your mind about telling her?"

My world came crashing down. "I don't know," I answer instead. I know therapy is all about sharing the depths of my darkest secrets, a safe space and all that. But I'm not ready to share about something I don't have the outcome to yet. "I guess I was tired of keeping secrets."

She nods again, placing her pen down on the pad in front of her before she leans forward. "How did it feel?"

"Freeing," I admit. "But also terrifying."

"How so?"

I shake my head, looking down at the pillow within my grasp. There's a loose string in the corner. I reach for it, twirling it between my fingers. "It's been me and my mom for a while. She's sacrificed a lot for me to get where I am. Telling her about the things that go through my head felt a lot like I was letting her down."

"Did she say that? That you let her down?"

I shake my head. "No."

"What did she say?"

"That she's sorry," I answer. "That she loves me and that we're in this together."

"What did you hear when she said that?"

I take a breath, letting the weight shift along my chest. The thing is, I've been here enough for her to know that what I hear is far from what people actually say, that what I tell myself isn't all rainbows and butterflies. "That I'm sharing my burden with her," I let out. "That she's taking the blame for my illness."

She's nodding again, digesting my words. "Can I share what I heard?" I nod. "I heard the words of a mother who loves you. I heard someone who wants to support you in healing. Someone who doesn't see your illness as a burden, but as a journey that she wants to hold your hand through."

Tears burn my eyes, my chest heavy as her words settle around me.

"Rosalie," she continues. "Do you remember the activity I told you to work on last time?"

"Yes." I nod. "You told me to take a breath every time I hear the negative words in my head. To pick one statement and turn it to a positive."

She smiles, nodding her head. "Did you do that?"

"Yes."

"Good. Do you think you can try it with me? What's something that's weighing you down right now after telling your mom?"

I take a breath, fighting back the tears. "That I've let her down."

"Okay, good. Now, what's another way to look at it?"

I think about the pit in my stomach, about the lies I've told her, about the secrets I've harbored. And then I think about the way she held me in her arms, about the fact she's waiting outside a therapy session that I once hid from her.

"She's proud of me for being here," I say, feeling the heaviness fracture across my chest. "For finding the strength to be here."

She nods, her smile growing as she looks at me. "Do you believe that? That your mother is proud of you?"

"Yeah," I whisper. "I do."

"And how does that feel?"

My chest lightens, my breaths full as I swallow back the tears. "Good."

"It's not easy to silence the negative thoughts, Rosalie. But it's important to remember that every negative thought has an opposite. If you can continue to find that opposite, to remind yourself that it's there, eventually the bright side will come before the negative."

I smile at the thought, at the theory I've held onto for so long. Every rose has its thorn. Every beautiful object has its pain point. But that doesn't make it any less beautiful. It protects it, a coat of armor as Nolan once described it.

I glance back down at the yellow pillow in my hands, taking note of its vibrant color. Maybe there is something to the way the yellow lights up the room. A bright side, here within my grasp, a reminder that every scenario has one. A rose has its petals, this room has this pillow, I have a strength deep within me.

"Do you think I'll get there?" I ask, looking up at her. "That someday the good thoughts will come before the negative?"

She pauses, watching as my fingers trail the pillow in my lap. "I think you have the tools you need to get there and a support system surrounding you, one that has only grown. So, yes, I do believe you will get there."

I smile, the tears tucked away as my chest expands.

Someday.