Chapter 13 - Ready for Rehab?

The sound of sirens woke me, jolting me out of a dreamless sleep. I groggily pushed back the blinds on my window and looked out into my driveway. A cop car was parking on it, and a man in a blue uniform stepped out.  I left the window and bolted for my grandmother’s room. I snapped on her lights.

 

“Grandma! The police are here!”

 

She turned over slowly and faced me, worry on her features. “Why?”

 

“I don’t know, but they are at our door. C’mon!” I pulled her out of bed, and helped her down the rickety stairs. The police officer had just begun knocking on the door when we got to the bottom of the stairs. Carefully, I brought my grandmother into the living room, sat her down on the worn out couch, and rushed the door.

 

I pulled it open just as the officer was about to knock again. “Uh, are you Pricilla?” he asked.

 

“No, idiot, Pricilla is my mother! That one’s my girl. That’s Andrea.” I hadn’t even noticed my mother standing behind the officer, her hands cuffed. I almost laughed, but stopped myself.

 

“Uh, yeah, I’m Andrea.” My eyes kept travelling back to my mother, whose cheeks were reddening. Could it be? Was she really embarrassed for something she had done? What a miracle!

 

“Well, can we come in?” the officer asked, obviously uncomfortable.

 

“Of course.”

 

I backed away from the door, giving the officer and my mom room to enter. My mother kicked off her shoes, the officer didn’t. I led them into the living room. I sat in the atrocious green chair that I hated, and motioned for my mom and the officer to sit on the couch with my grandma.

 

After a few moments of awkward silence, the officer cleared his throat and began.

 

“Andrea, Pricilla, Wendy was drinking while intoxicated. We kept her at the station until she sobered up, and we came here to discuss the repercussions.”

 

“Jail?” I offered, then snapped my mouth shut. Oops.

 

“We were thinking more like mandatory rehabilitation, since this isn’t her first offense. Or a very large, very ugly fine.” The officer stared me down, his brow crinkling.

 

“Fine.” “Rehab.”

 

My mother and I spoke at the same time, and I began fantasizing about my mother going through rehab, everything twisting back to normal, and no longer the horrible beatings or drunk evenings. And the truth was, we couldn’t afford a big fine. The police would be able to help us pay for rehab, somewhat anyways, and it would take a load off of our grocery bills if we didn’t have to buy eight boxes of beer every week. I shuddered. Oh, the beauty of more money.

 

“I will not do rehab!” She yelled. “It’s a waste of time and money!”

 

I felt myself leap off of the chair and right into an argument. “Oh, and a fine isn’t? We all know unless you get help, this will only happen more! I don’t want to die of starvation because you were too scared to live in reality instead of inside the bottle!”

 

The officer shushed me as my mother’s face bloomed red from anger. “Where does starvation play into this?”

 

“If we have to keep paying giant fines, we’ll go broke, and we won’t be able to buy food.”

 

My mother seemed uncharacteristically fazed. “Oh.”

 

“So you’ll go into rehab?” asked the officer, and I could hear the hope in his voice.

 

“No way in hell.”

 

“Wendy, you are going to rehab. I am your mother and I demand that you get your act together. This is insane!” My grandmother sounded close to tears, but she never cried when in public. Or even when someone outside of our family was able to see.

 

“It’s settled, then, Wendy. You’ll be going into rehab tomorrow afternoon. We already found the nearest possible center. It’s about a two-hour drive. Me and Lenny will escort you there.”

 

“No!” My mother was angry now. Very angry.

 

The officer stood up, pulling my mother with him. “Come on, Wendy, we’re going back to the station. Now say goodbye to your family, because you won’t be seeing them for at least a month. Seven at most.”

Seven? That was a long time . . .

 

But it would have to be worth it if she got better.

 

“Bye, Mom.” I waved at her awkwardly, a sheepish smile on my face.

 

She turned away.

 

“Goodbye, Wendy. Be good, okay?” My grandmother stood up and shakily walked to her daughter. She hugged my mom, even though she didn’t seem to want one.

 

“I’ll see you soon,” she said and walked back to the couch.

 

The officer said goodbye and my mother said nothing. But was that a sniffle I heard as she was leaving? I’ll never know.

 

I headed to the kitchen for a glass of water once they left, and noticed the time. It was already 9:30am. I must’ve forgotten to set my alarm clock on. And my grandmother had still been asleep . . . despite what most people say, senior citizens are just as lazy as teenagers.

 

So I raced upstairs, threw on jeans, brushed my hair and teeth, packed my bag and booked it, running as hard as I could all the way to school. I prayed I had some money in my locker, or I was going to starve. I was obviously late for first period, and my teacher gave me a dirty look, but I hadn’t missed too much. Just the lesson. No big deal.

 

So I had to ask for help a bunch of time, trying my hardest to understand the quantity of x, but failing every time. My teacher, Mr. Potter, made me stay after class, thus making me late for History, too. But only by a few minutes.

 

When the bell mercifully rang for lunch, I rushed to my locker and searched despereatly for five bucks, but found nothing. Zero. Zip. Zilch. I was in the process of banging my head against my locker, knowing I was going to have to beg someone for money or die, when a warm hand touched my arm lightly.

 

I spun around and saw Nate, a flush on his cheeks.

 

“What do you want?” I asked, wondering if there was a red welt on my forehead from all the head banging.

 

“To talk.” His gray eyes met mine, and my tough outer exterior melted.

 

“Where?” 

Author's Note

finally, the next chapter! took me long enough. sorry, i was sort of in a writing funk. couldn't finish the dang chapter! but here it is, and better late than never right? tell me what you think. not my best, but oh well. enjoy!

Reviews

[selkietales]

Yes! Mom is OUT! And yay, Nate and Andrea are going to work out their differences!

[Jasmine Thousand]

LOL I think it was writers BLOCK not funk...right? LOL
awes Nate and Andrea are SO CUTE TOGETHER! EEeep!!!
~jazz thousand~

[Caitlyn Murray]

I loved it! All of your chapters are good. I really feel connected with Andrea now. Im not sure why. I was so happy when her mom went to rehab. She better get better!

[TheKaylaPup]

I understand the writing funk. It's a really, really good thing that her mom got help, even if she didn't want it.

[Jenni-Chan]

aww she likes him. to bad about her mother.

[Sarah E. Pearson]

nice!! REHAB FOR THE REBADS!!

[Emm'here]

Nice job! I like the emotion between Wendy and Andrea. Tough idea to concept, but you got it well. Good!

[pixieheart97]

Very cool :)

[BloodyMary]

I think instead of actual rehab, they should do my 'rehab' specifically made for Wendy.
Strap her to a poll from her wrist and break out the rubber hoses. BAM REHABILITATED.

[Kesav Easwaran]

Nice read, Emma...i think i must read the other chapters as well...thanks for the invite