Paris Wills is a dreamer. His father always said he got it from his mom, an artist who was unlike any other. Her virtue was painting, and Paris' is poetry. No matter where he is, Paris finds inspiration for his poems.
In the summer after his sophom...
Today's group therapy, but I'm hesitant to attend. It's bound to feel weird without André present. Sabina and I still haven't heard from him or the hospital or even his parents. André's room at Neo is littered with his clothes and belongings, which means it's unlikely his parents forced him to return home with them. Nonetheless, I wish someone would tell us how he's doing.
"Wake up, sleepyhead," Sabina teases from my doorway. I recognize her lilting voice instantly. It lifts my heart to remember that at least one of my friends is safe and sound.
Sitting up in my bed, I look over at Sabina and see she's wearing a pastel yellow tank top and acid-washed jeans. The color in her bubblegum pink hair is starting to fade, but the lighter hue looks nice with her outfit. I want to get out of bed and pretend everything's fine. Talk about what color Sabina's gonna dye her hair next. Trade books from our respective collections. Act like there isn't one of our trio missing. But I can't.
"Hurry up!" Sabina shouts, shaking me from my pondering.
"Group therapy starts in an hour. I'm gonna grab some coffee. I slept like shit."
With that, Sabina glides out the doorway, the click of her boots echoing as she walks along the hardwood floors.
Batting away the sleep in my eyes, I pull off the sheets and pick out a tee, pair of jeans, and set of boxer shorts before walking to the bathroom. Most residents shower in the afternoon. André and I prefer to shower in the morning, when the the bathroom is usually empty.
Now, it's just me walking to the bathroom, and it feels strange. Sure, André could show up at Neo any day now, but what if he doesn't? What if he's halfway to Camarillo? What if his parents didn't care that their son's stuff was at Neo? What if they still don't understand his depression? What if André tries to kill himself again? What if he succeeds?
I pause in the bathroom doorway, startled by the faint sound of water running. With a quick scan of the bathroom, I notice a tall shadow behind one of the teal shower curtains. My brow furrows with confusion. It's unusual for anyone to be in here except André and I. Setting my change of clothes down on the sink, I curiously approach the occupied shower stall. I can't shake the feeling that André may be there. Temptation overcomes me, and I pull back the shower curtain. Sure enough, André is standing in front of me, albeit frazzled by my sudden intrusion.
"Look, Paris, I like you as a friend. But I don't swing that way," André needles with a smirk, although he embarrassingly covers his crotch with his hands.
"You flatter yourself," I taunt, rolling my eyes before remembering that André's abruptly returned to Neo, "What're you doing here?"
"My doctor cleared me late last night. I came back to Neo early this morning."
"And you didn't think to tell us?" I question, shoving André's shoulder begrudgingly.
"I was planning on surprising you and Sabina in group therapy!"
"Well aren't you clever!"
"Not clever enough, apparently!"
The two of us let out a soft chuckle before I slide the shower curtain back into place. As I enter a vacant shower stall and let the warm water rush down my back, my heart lifts with a sense of hope. If André's back at Neo, then perhaps his parents are starting to take his depression seriously.
***
After André and I finish getting ready, we exit the bathroom and arrive at our group therapy session with seconds to spare. I head in first, pretending to sulk about. Sabina watches me, trying to hide her melancholy surrounding André's absence. Yet her eyes are gazing at the ground, clearly in an attempt to prevent herself from crying.
Once I sit down, I turn to the doorway and motion for André to come in. Sabina notices my hand gesture and peers at me in confusion. Quickly, Sabina's stare shifts from me to André, and she unexpectedly jumps out of her seat and runs into André's arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and slipping her hands under his arms.
"You're back!" Sabina exclaims, overjoyed to see André again. He looks thrilled to see her too, holding her tightly to his sturdy frame. As André gently sets Sabina's small frame down, I catch an unmistakable glimmer in André's shiny blue eyes. I've never seen André look so optimistic.
André takes his seat beside me and Dr. Cole opens the floor to him.
"André. I know your friends are eager to hear what's happened these past few days. Would you care to share?"
André nods and starts, "Once Sabina and Paris left the hospital, I had a long chat with my parents about my depression. I even used Paris' analogy of depression to lights in the brain, which seemed to help my parents understand."
Taking a pause, André glances over at me and I flash him an encouraging smile.
"After that, my parents broke into tears, but I assured them it wasn't their fault that I'm depressed. It's not anybody's fault. Sometimes depression doesn't have a distinct cause."
"What happened next?" Sabina prompts.
"My parents made it abundantly clear that my main focus should be on healing, not football or school or whatever else. I told them Neo was where I could find that healing, and they dropped me off. They're going to visit more often to see how I'm doing too."
"And how do you feel about all this?" Dr. Cole inquires. We're all staring at André, awaiting his response.
"Honestly? Hopeful."
Tears drop from André's eyes as his lips curl into a joyful smile. Afterward, Dr. Cole ends our group therapy session early and takes the four of us to the cafeteria. She sneaks into the unoccupied kitchen, instructing us to wait at a table. When she returns, Dr. Cole's hands are pushing a cart topped with cartons of chocolate and vanilla ice cream, scoopers, bowls, and spoons.
"I felt we needed to have a little celebration," Dr. Cole proclaims, earning a round of applause from the four of us. Even Tiff looks excited, setting her deck of cards aside.
Dr. Cole hands André a scooper, allowing him to go first. He fills a bowl with an abundant amount of chocolate ice cream, easily scarfing it down the moment he sits down. With a tap on the shoulder, Dr. Cole prompts Tiff to go next. Sabina offers to help her, but Tiff grabs her own scooper and plops a spoonful of each flavor in a bowl. Afterward, Sabina scoops a haphazard array of vanilla and chocolate ice cream into a bowl and mixes them together. Even though I'm lactose intolerant, I take two scoops of chocolate and one scoop of vanilla. It's the first time I've had ice cream in years, and I savor the sweet icy goodness as it melt on my tongue.
Even Dr. Cole scoops herself a bowl, copying Sabina's choice. The five of us sit at the table and center most of our attention on our ice cream. Occasionally, Sabina discusses the latest piano piece she's memorizing or André tells a joke that makes everyone, including Dr. Cole, laugh hysterically.
As we all revel in each other's company, I can't help but focus on André's radiant smile, rosy cheeks, and beaming blue eyes. He's genuinely enjoying himself, and talking more than ever before. I think André's finally ready to face his future, whatever that may be.
While Sabina engages in a round of cards with Tiff and Dr. Cole collects our empty bowls, André notices me glancing at him and privately mouths something to me. It takes me a moment to put together what he's articulating. In time, I piece the words together and have to fight back an onset of tears. André's words keep replaying in my mind, over and over:
"This is my new greatest moment."
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