“Yes.”
She groans and mumbles something about laziness as she holds open one of the doors and motions for me to enter. I’m surprised that the office is ten times nicer than Director Brewster’s, even without a window.
“Take your pick,” she says, gesturing to the large couch and two chairs.
I choose the couch because it reminds me of mine at home.
She introduces herself as I sit down. “Jasmine, my name is Dr. Opal Rose and I’m going to be your therapist during your stay.” She sits across from me in one of the chairs and reaches out her hand. I shake it. She seems nice and I feel even worse for being late.
“Hi, and sorry again for being late,” I say.
“I’m just happy that you came,” she says, and I wonder if she really thinks I have a choice.
A door slams outside and we both jump a little.
“So, today is finally your first call with your parents.” She smiles. “How does that sound?”
I don’t know her well enough to tell her I’m not excited. “I only have one,” I say instead.
She looks embarrassed as she gets up to grab a file fromher desk. “My apologies, I must have overlooked that,” she says, flipping through it. She puts on the large glasses that were hanging around her neck and looks more closely at one of the pages.
“Who is Travis?” she asks.
I feel my eyebrows knit together. “I don’t know anyone named Travis.”
Dr. Rose makes a note with the pen in her pocket and closes the file. “Okay, well, you’re speaking to your mom today, so let’s go over how this works,” she says.
I nod, even though I’m still confused about why someone named Travis would be in my file.
“Phone calls can take place here and on the unit. They will be here until we can trust you to have them safely on the unit. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but having them there is a really big privilege that most girls never get.” She looks at me seriously.
“Got it,” I say, making a mental note of another privilege I’m working toward.
“In here, I will leave the room for your phone calls, which are twenty-five minutes and monitored.”
I sit up straighter. “You listen to our calls?”
“No, I said monitored,” she says, removing herself from my Nice Adult list. I’m pretty sure those mean the same thing.
“There’s absolutely no yelling, no cursing, and no threats.” She pauses like she thinks I’m going to protest.
Who does she think I am?
“Why would I be doing that?” I ask.
“The same reason you would end up here,” she says sternly.
I can’t stand this place. “Of course, because I’m a horrible kid,” I say, my words dripping with sarcasm.
“That’s not appropriate, Jasmine.” She walks to her desk,turns the phone around, and pulls up a chair. She motions for me to come and have a seat. “I’ll dial the number and hand you the phone once your mother answers,” she says, holding the receiver to her chest. “Questions?”
“Nope.”
“Good.” She puts the receiver to her ear and dials. “Hi, is this Janice Cooper? Great, this is Dr. Opal Rose, the therapist from Guiding Hearts. I’m here with Jasmine for your call.”
She hands me the phone. I take a deep breath before putting it to my ear. I can hear my mom laughing on the other end. There are voices in the background too.
My heart sinks a little. Is she having fun?