The Senior Trip

Maybelline Brave Together Bonus Chapter

****THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN MOVED TO THE FRONT OF THE BOOK FOR THE MONTH OF MAY AND JUNE. IT CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE STORY.

Author's Note

Hello readers! I am so excited to be a part of Wattpad and Maybelline's #BraveTogether Mental Health Initiative in honor of Mental Health Awareness Month. Please enjoy this bonus chapter and read to the end to participate in a Write-a-thon. I have chosen NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Health) to receive the donations! This group is important to me because of the work they do every day to help our community and specifically because of the impact they have had on the population I work with as a therapist.

Wattpad and Maybelline have partnered up once again for MNY's Brave Together Mental Health Initiative. In May and June, for every comment submitted under this bonus chapter in response to my question at the end, Wattpad and Maybelline will donate $1, up to a total of $2,000 to NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness). Two other Bonus chapters will be participating in this same initiative, want to check them out? Visit wattpad.com/maybelline

Harper

            My drink is tepid at best and the cookies are stale, but we aren't here for a tea party so there is no point in complaining to anyone about it. I know for certain, the people in this room have far more important things to contemplate than whether the snacks on the white fold-out table are up to par. My eyes fall to the napkin precariously resting on my knee, and the crumbs trying to take the leap to the floor below us. The small store-bought sugar cookie rests there too, cracked from its journey here from the grocery store a few blocks down. Nothing is perfect. There is a crack in everything, but I have learned from attending this group, it's ok to not be ok.

            The meeting will start soon, but for now I will steady my gaze on the door to this small room on the third floor of the hospital where a sign tells other hurting people they are in the right place, "Grief Group. Tuesdays at 7:30pm." Val, a girl I met here last month enters. She carries her sweatshirt in her arms like a shield, and only takes her sunglasses off revealing her two healing black eyes once she's taken the seat next to me. Looking at her, many would know she suffered something traumatic and painful to her body. Bruises have a way of telling a story you might not want to share. What people won't be able to see is the way her most painful wounds are those left on her heart and in her head. It's been four weeks since she survived the accident that killed her sister.

            "Hi," she says softly.

            'Hey," I tell her.

            I point down to the tea at the bottom of her chair. Her smile is sweet and genuine as she reaches for it. I got here early and prepared one for her too. She has been an amazing support. I know we haven't known each other very long, but a group like this brings people close fast. I know all the details of the worst day of her life so far—and hopefully ever—and she knows all about mine. Val is the strongest person I know. She's beautiful on the inside and outside in a way that only time and experience can polish. She has known loss and felt the defeat of having to keep going when something so important in your life is missing and yet she found her way out of that darkness to come to this group and bring light.

            "How are you doing?" she asks. I

It's not the type of 'How are you doing?' the grocery clerk asks to be polite, it's the one that makes you think and feel safe answering honestly. Val is safe. This place is safe. This group is safe. The therapist that leads the group has taught us being able to be our true selves is one of the strongest components of good mental health. We can't get help if we aren't honest, and we won't heal wounds we insist on covering up out of shame, pain, or fear.