Gateway (The Gateway Trilogy, Book 1) Read Free Page A

on her fingernails, muttering to herself—alternately worrying about me being under the care of doctors, and what might happen if I weren't under their care. My mother distrusted doctors. For a while that had worked to my advantage, helping me avoid having to see a shrink, but after my second suspension, the school had insisted.
    Neither of us were prepared for me to be home-schooled, so she had relented six months ago and I'd begun seeing Dr. Borden, PhD., in Van Nuys. I hated everything about it. The bus ride was needlessly complicated, the office was cramped, and Dr. Borden was a self-important woman with yellow hair and fake breasts that protruded from necklines too plunging for her age. It didn't take long for me to realize that the only way to get through those sessions was to parrot back the psycho-babble she was spewing and act grateful for her insight.
    Mom had been so relieved when Dr. Borden informed the school that I had made real progress and now had the tools to cope with the everyday pressures of being a teenager. In reality, Dr. Borden was clueless to the facts of what my every days were filled with.
    Since waking up that afternoon I'd been on auto-pilot, numbly obliging to being led through the day, but as usual, being left to my own thoughts was an exercise in torture.
    Only you could screw up a suicide. You're as crazy as your mother; they should just leave you here. How do I get out of here?
    That was the most prominent question, and I waited for the Voice to answer, but It didn't. I was never able to summon It at will. It just popped in when It felt like it, giving me morsels of information. Still, I was grateful for It. For months It had been my only friend, if It could be called that. And if It was just a figment of my imagination and I truly was insane, then at least I wasn't completely alone.
    Time passed and I was no closer to figuring anything out. I found myself staring blankly out the small window near my bed, numbing myself to the incessant chatter in my mind.
    When six o’clock rolled around, Lauren popped her head in.
    “Dinner time.”
    We walked down the hall with the rest of the inmates. Lauren gave me a sidelong glance, her nose wrinkling.
    “So, um, if you don’t have any bath products you’re welcome to use mine…”
    I barked a laugh. “Subtle.”
    She shrugged, unembarrassed.
    “I guess it has been a few days,” I said, “even if I don’t remember them. I’ll wash up after dinner.”
    Lauren chattered on as we walked through the dinner line. We both turned our nose up at the Salisbury steak and opted for the limited salad bar. I went to reach for a dinner roll, but Lauren gave me a slight shake of the head.
    “Those are hard as bricks by now. Only go for those on Mondays and Tuesdays.”
    I trusted her at her word. We got to the end of the line and she pulled a container of pudding from the stack on the counter. She tossed one to me without warning. Even in my surprise effort to catch it I noticed her shove two more in her knapsack. Then she added one to her tray. It was a deft maneuver, not her first time.
    “You’ll never get better if you aren’t more self-aware about your destructive behavior, Lauren.” Josh had muscled his way to the front of the line, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
    Lauren ignored him.
    “Give me one of the extras or I’m telling,” Josh said. He’d already added the one he was allowed to his tray.
    There was a brief standoff while the air around us buzzed with an intensity I wouldn’t normally attribute to pudding. Lauren cracked first.
    “Fine. Here.”   Her hand slid from inside her purse, depositing the contraband into Josh’s jacket pocket.  
    As we turned away I heard him mutter, “Friggin’ tapioca. Great.”  
    Lauren winked at me. Served him right.
    We exited the line and I surveyed the room. Most of the tables were already occupied   with people dining. For a moment I wondered what had brought all of these people to be