Unfiltered & Undressed (The Unfiltered Series) (20 page)

“You’re checking in? To the clinic?” He gestured behind me, and I twisted to see the entrance to New Beginnings. The main building was a large, squat hacienda-style structure, with Spanish accents, dominated by a capped turret taking up most of the front. Smaller buildings trailed behind the main complex, like fat little mushrooms growing out of the desert sand, and I had the sudden, irrational certainty that Vi’s new neighbors were drunk Smurfs.

Brainy and Smurfette had always sounded a little tipsy to me anyway.

“Oh. No. My friend Violet. She…has problems.” Evidently I’d been one of those problems since the beginning of time.

“Do they include abandoning her friends in parking lots?”

“Today? Yes.” Not that I could blame her. “But to be fair, she had no idea I was about to be run down.”

His lips turned up and his eyes shined. He was laughing at me. “You weren’t very easy to see down there.”

“Her suitcase fell, and it weighs a ton. I think she may have stuffed a few gallons of vodka in there with her fuzzy socks and padded bras.”

He laughed and the sound drew my focus back to his face. “Sounds like she’s come to the right place. I’m Noah.” He held his hand out again, and this time when I took it, the contact lingered, and I forgot about the sun, and the heat, and my throbbing elbow.

“I’m Allie. Are you…checking in?”

“Just visiting. My sister is…well, if rehab were an airline, this stay would be free with her frequent flyer miles.”

“Allison!”

I looked up to see Violet scowling at me from the entrance, holding the glass door open with one hand.

“Oh,
now
you’re in a hurry!” I wasn’t sure she’d heard me, but she let the door close behind her.

Noah reached for the suitcase. “Let me.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I’m kind of afraid that if I don’t, you’ll fall in front of another car, and your death will be on my head.”

Before I could argue again, he lifted Violet’s suitcase and gestured for me to precede him on the sidewalk. I shook my head and gave him a go-ahead wave—then I followed two steps behind, enjoying the view.

‡

“See?” I said, rolling Violet’s broken suitcase across the marble floor. “It doesn’t even look like a rehab. It’s like a fancy hotel.
And
they have spa services and equine therapy. All you have to do is go to meetings and participate in therapy, and you can get facials and massages and pedicures! And swim and ride horses! It will be like a thirty-day vacation!”

“A thirty-day vacation, from which there is no escape,” Violet mumbled, and I couldn’t exactly argue. There was no way I’d ever check myself into rehab, no matter how posh the facilities.

“I’m trying to do you a favor here, Violet.” I opened my shoulder bag to show her stacks of hundred dollar bills stuffed inside. Violet’s eyes widened. She closed the clasp on the bag, then shoved it back under my arm. “And I convinced your parents to let me use my share of the money to foot the bill at this place, so don’t tell me I don’t care. I’m paying the twenty thousand dollar deposit now, and I’ll pay the rest after you finish the program—which I’m sure you’ll do, because you’re awesome and I have faith in you.”

“How did you talk my parents into that? And where do they think you got the money?”

“I told them I won some big lottery scratch-offs,” I said with a shrug. Her parents hated me even more now that they believed the universe was rewarding me for being such a bad influence on their little angel.

“I can’t believe they bought that. I can’t believe you told them that. You’re all insane.” Violet sighed. “I am the only sane person here. In a rehab.”

I sucked in a deep breath, trying to rein in my temper. “Okay, you may not be an alcoholic, but you
are
having night terrors and anxiety attacks. You’re clearly traumatized by what went down that night in The Coffee Cave and you obviously need some sort of therapy, Violet, so why not just get it here? On my dime. You’re worth the investment, Vi.”

“Fine.” Her gaze was firm, but her voice was steel. “But this is the last stop on the Violet-Allie crazy train. I can’t do it anymore. I won’t let you do this to me again. If you want there to be any chance of us ever being friends again, things are going to have to change.” Then she sighed and glanced around the New Beginnings lobby. “I tell you what. I’ll stay here and get help for my ‘problems—’” Even her air quotes looked angry. “—if you get help for yours.”

The sudden screeching of my mental brakes was deafening. “I haven’t had a drink all week. I don’t black out anymore. I know my limits now. I don’t need help.”

“Awesome. Getting so drunk that I had to cremate the body of a guy whose shooting we witnessed is your limit. It’s good that you know that now.”

Her sarcasm actually stung. “Would you please pipe down?” I clapped my hand over her mouth, but Violet shook me off. “And technically, we didn’t witness the shooting. We just overheard it.” That technicality was very important to me, and to the sleep I hoped to continue to enjoy.

“You didn’t treat the addiction, Allie,” she insisted. “I’m not saying you haven’t made progress. But you’re still drinking, which means you still haven’t realized how completely fucked up your behavior is.” Her gaze hardened and her voice dropped into a fierce conspiratorial whisper. “We’re not even supposed to be in contact anymore. You’re breaking the rules just by talking to me. You
always
break the rules, and if you want me to
ever speak to you again
, you have to swear right here and now that you’ll get help.” She glanced around the beige-and-blue tiled lobby. “Otherwise, once you walk out that door, you’ll never see me again.” She pointed at the fancy double glass doors, and my heart suddenly felt horribly, unbearably heavy.

Violet was serious. I knew better than to object. Aloud, anyway.

“Therapy?” I said, and she nodded firmly.

“That’s the deal. I want you to stop leaning on crutches and face your problems. I want you to commit to something and actually follow through with it for the first time in your fucked up life. I want you to grow up, Allie. And after today, you have to
stay away
from me until I get out of here.” She wagged her finger in my face, and I leaned back to avoid it. “You know the rules.”

Rules
. I’m not good with rules.

Don’t drink until you’re twenty-one.

Don’t have sex until you’re married.

Don’t feed the gremlins after midnight.

Rules always sound more like dares to me, but they’d worked for Violet, until I’d let her down on her birthday. Until I’d dragged her into the situation that led to her driving drunk, disposing of a corpse, and potentially losing her entire family.

I couldn’t let her down again. She was all I had left.

“You want me to pinkie promise?” I held out the smallest finger on my right hand, grinning to make light, but she only scowled at it.

“I want you to look me in the eye and tell me you’ll get therapy. Your word’s good enough.”

“Because you trust me?”

“Because you can’t lie for shit, Allie. My parents must have been desperate to believe your lottery story.”

“Fine.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ll get therapy.”

“You swear? You have to follow through and get therapy in an actual recognized therapy program, not from some guy in a van who promises you that the pretty crystals you’re paying three hundred dollars for will cure you of all your negative energy.”

“Those were ethically mined from
Mongolia
, Vi! Also, they matched my eyes, and if that’s not good retail therapy, I don’t know what is.”

But Violet only rolled her eyes and continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “And you have to finish the program, just like I will.”

“I will. Start to finish. We’ll do it together. I swear on our friendship.” I could think of no more solemn vow.

“Thanks, Allie.” She looked skeptical, but at least a little relieved.

I pulled her into a hug, then wandered around the large lobby, eavesdropping on the other loser addicts while my best friend signed up to get cured.

“So when do the cravings stop?” One woman asked a man in torn jeans, as they sipped coffee from Styrofoam cups.

“Never,” he said, and she looked like she might cry.

“So what’s with this group session?” A teenager wearing too much eyeliner whined to the girl standing next to her, across from the vending machines. “I don’t want to hear what’s wrong with these assholes. I don’t see what their problems have to do with mine.”

She was clearly a bitch, so I wandered closer to Noah, whom I’d spotted leaning against the wall with the sole of one shoe propped against it. A girl sat in the chair across from him and I started to ask if she was his sister. Then I noticed how she was staring at him—as if he were dinner and she were starving—and I realized they were
not
siblings.

And suddenly I hoped she was a patient so that when he left, she couldn’t possibly go with him.

“Seriously,” the girl said while she fiddled with the magnetic latch on her knockoff purse. “It’s the best therapy I’ve ever had. And the campus location is so convenient.”

“I’m glad it’s working for you, Crystal,” Noah said, biceps straining against the short sleeves of his Cardinals tee. “It helps to think someone else might learn from my mistakes. It certainly took me long enough to.”

Therapy? On campus? With Noah?

I glanced at the front desk, where Violet was still filling out forms. She wanted me to get help. I’d be betraying her trust if I didn’t sign up for therapy at the earliest possible opportunity, right?

“Hey, when does your group meet?” I asked, sinking onto the arm of an empty chair in their grouping, completely ignoring Crystal, who turned to me with flames practically shooting from her eyes.

“Allie, right?” Noah said, and when he looked at me, the rest of the world seemed to fade away, as if nothing else existed. Nothing other than his brown eyes and the fluttery tingles they stirred deep in my chest.

I nodded. “Allison Daniels.”

“You go to ASU Rio Verde?”

“Yeah. I’m a senior.” Almost. I was only six credit hours shy, thanks to those classes I’d had to drop the semester before. Eight a.m. and hangovers are a bad combination.

“Great. We meet on Thursdays at four. In conference room C, at the Student Center.”

“And you lead the meetings?” I could certainly spend an hour a week staring into those eyes, listening to him talk about himself. Maybe therapy wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Usually. We spend a lot of time focusing on self-discipline and resisting temptation during the summer session.”

Self-discipline.
Check
. Temptation.
Double chec
k.

Something told me Noah had lots to say on the subject of temptation, and with the proper motivation, I could be a
very
good student.

“Is it okay if I join?”

A tingle shot up my spine at the lingering eye contact. “If you’re serious about committing to the program, we’d love to have you.”

“Oh, I’m serious. I’m really, really serious about following through with things. I’m kind of turning over a new leaf.” Thanks to Violet.

“Great. We’ll see you tomorrow at four, Allie.”

“I’ll be there.” I gave him my best deep-eye-contact smile, then headed back to check on Violet. I could practically feel his gaze on my backside as he watched me go.

Score one for therapy. Later on? Score one for Allie…

—◊—

Read the rest of Noah and Allie's story in
Unfiltered & Untouched
, coming July 14, 2014 from Payge Galvin & Katy West. If you want to be notified when future books in the series are released, sign up for the mailing list
here
.

I want to start by thanking twelve of the most amazing friends a girl could possibly have—without all of your support and cheerleading I would never have taken such a huge leap, but I’m so, so, so glad I did! I also want to thank Payge Galvin, fearless leader, for coordinating this whole ginormous effort—when I grow up I want to be you. But most of all, I have to thank our readers, for taking a chance on our Unfiltered books in the first place. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading our stories half (or even one-tenth!) as much as we’ve loved writing them for you. This has been the biggest dream of all!

Meg.