Obsessive Read Online Free

parents.”
    Gen shoots me a dirty look, but I ignore her. In a way, picking up Gen is kind of like an errand, and therapy really is more for my parents than it is for me. At least, that’s how I feel. Plus, Tash still doesn’t know I have to visit a shrink once a week—and I’d like to keep it that way. It’s not that I like lying to her, it just doesn’t matter. I won’t be going for much longer, anyway. After spending two months in Cadaver Hell, I’ll be leaving for Stanford.
    “I can’t believe we’ve only got four more days,” Tash says, like she knows exactly what I was thinking. “I hate that you’re leaving.”
    I smile, even though it’s not a happy conversation. Unlike me, Tash feels everything in extremes. Annoyance, happiness, anger… especially anger. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past 91 days, 11 hours, and 47 minutes we’ve been ‘together,’ it’s that she loves just as fiercely as she hates. Maybe more. And unlike me, she never lies about who she is.
    “How is Margot doing?” I ask, because it’s easier than wondering if we’re ever going to ‘make it.’
    Tash looks immediately pissed off. “I don’t know, I haven’t heard from her since her last postcard. But this Teen Discovery Camp sounds like a gigantic load of bullshit”—she glances at Gen—“I mean, bull crap . ‘Wilderness Therapy for Troubled Youths?’ More like ‘Teen Slasher Movie Waiting to Happen.’ I mean, Jesus! Put a bunch of kids with rap sheets in tents together, outside of civilized society, and someone is bound to get horribly maimed. If high school was tough for Margot, imagine when she gets bunked with some ex-con with a sleeping bag full of crack rocks and self-honed implements of violence.”
    “Self-honed implements of violence?” I take a second to figure it out. “Is that what SHIV stands for?”
    “Yeah,” she says, looking down at her soda sheepishly. “I looked it up.”
    “Relax,” I tell her, even though I secretly find her rage kind of adorable. “I don’t think those are the kind of ‘troubled youths’ they let in.”
    “Says you,” Tash grumbles, before taking a sip of her coke, directly out of the can.
    “I’ve heard about places like that. They’re probably too busy building camp fires and doing team-building exercises to knife anyone.” In fact, from what she’s told me of this program so far, I’m pretty sure it’s full of a bunch of kids like me. My parents mentioned sending me to a conference once, for fellow kids with OCD, but I told them I didn’t think I needed it. The truth is, I don’t want to know how bad things can get. I don’t want to find out I’m worse off than I think I am.
    “Where’s the bathroom?” Gen asks. I get the feeling she’s sick of watching us awkwardly flirt in front of her.
    “Go ahead and go past the counter, into the back,” Tash tells her. “It’s the door next to the freezer. You don’t want to use the public one, it’s gross.”
    Gen stares across the table at her with huge eyes. “But won’t I get in trouble?”
    “Not if you don’t get caught,” Tash tells her, with a totally straight face. “Just make sure to stick close to the walls, Mission Impossible style, so the security cameras don’t see you. If they do, I’ll make sure to wipe them before I finish my shift. And stay away from the safe, cause I am sure as hell not going down for you if you rob the place. Get me?”
    “Okay,” Gen whispers reverently, nodding. Then she stands up and ninjas her way across the room with a look of pure determination. I don’t think I’ve seen her get so excited about anything in a while.
    When my little sister disappears behind the counter, Tash turns back to me like nothing happened.
    “So, what are we doing tonight?”
    “Uh….” I search my internal schedule, distracted a little by Tash’s fingers, linking together with mine. Hand-to-hand contact has always been an issue for me, but over