Life on the Level Read Online Free Page A

slide it off.
    “No one turns these on, right?” I ask.
    “It’s all locked up until you check out. Is everything okay?”
    I look around the office. There are tons of little cages where they lock up patients’ belongings. The phone in the lobby rings its shrill ring. Taylor walks by, helping an old man with his bags as he’s leaving the building.
    “River,” Helen asks, sounding out my name in that way that doctors have, like they’re trying to call you back to earth, like they’re trying to get you to focus on the sound of their voice and not on the spinning thoughts in your head. “River. Something upset you.”
    “It’s just—” I shake my head. I cough a laugh. “It’s just what you said. My generation and all that. It’s all the contact I have with my friends. It’s hard letting go.”
    I feel like she can see through my lie. “There’s a computer room. One of our patients is working on her young adult novel. You’ll have access to basic e-mail and there’s a mailroom for the ancient art of letter writing. There are these artifacts we have called pens and pencils.”
    “You’re funny,” I say.
    “Don’t sound so surprised. Just because we’re in the middle of nowhere doesn’t mean I don’t know a thing or two about life. You name it, and I’ve probably done it. Twice.”
    “Good to know. Well, now that you know my bra size,” I say, “can you show me to my room? I’m beat.”
    As we head up the polished wooden steps, she says, “We’re not trying to invade your privacy. We have an open-door policy. Removing possibly harmful things so that everyone here is safe.”
    “Objects themselves aren’t harmful,” I say. “People are the ones who are harmful, doc.”
    She stops at a door marked 3A. Three was my dad’s lucky number. Mine is four.
    “The left wing is where all the female patients stay, the right wing is for male patients, and when staff spends the night it’s downstairs. You stay out of the men’s wing, and they stay out of yours. All of you stay out of staff quarters.”
    “The staff stays here, too? Don’t they go nuts?”
    Helen laughs dryly. “Not any more than when they started. Because we’re so rural, it’s easier for some of them than driving four hours each way. But they’re free to come and go as they please.”
    “I take it we don’t have the same liberty?”
    “Not unless you want to pack up and go for good. We have lots of group excursions. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to get out with the others. I doubt you’ll feel claustrophobic in Big Sky country.”
    I gnaw on the inside of my cheek. I’m already starting to feel claustrophobic. “Anything else?”
    “There is to be no sexual conduct between patients and patients, or patients and staff members. It would result in immediate expulsion, and incompletion of your trial. Here’s our introductory pamphlet with a list of further rules. Your counselor will go over them again at your session tomorrow.
    “Tonight’s dinner is turkey meatloaf, and quinoa chili if you’re a vegetarian.”
    “I’m just really tired.” Suddenly all of my traveling and sleepless nights hit me like a sledgehammer.
    She appraises me, the same way I was looking at her before. I change my mind. She isn’t divorced. I bet it was a love affair gone wrong. Perhaps he was already married and wouldn’t leave his wife.
    “I hope we can help you find what you’re looking for here, River.”
    When she’s gone, I want to lock myself into my room, except there isn’t a lock. Right, for our safety. The windows don’t lock either, but I’m on the second story. No chance of a hasty escape unless I want to break my neck.
    I don’t know why I’m checking every inch of the room or what I’m hoping to find. Paranoia? My past hiding under the bed? Preparing to run away before I’ve even started? I remind myself to breathe.
    I go to the bathroom. My hands are shaking. I look at myself in the mirror. The light is so