Bottle it Up

Chapter Nine

Authors Note ~ Odd having this up here huh? Anywho, I just wanted to inform you that in this book this is actually chapter twenty. I skipped a ton of the story because frankly it didn't make sense with the minimsl parts of the story I posted. You get to know Penelope and Blake [her brother] a little bit more in those chapters. If you have questions comment them below.

          I had a hunch that the craziness of the people around me had been rubbed off of me. Either that, or the five hours of doing nothing each day was getting to me. I’d fallen into a routine, and even if a routine was the first step to normalcy, I didn’t need that for a summer. I’d wake up in the morning, eat breakfast (sometimes at Macy’s Diner), go to work, and then go work on gazebo (sometimes with Emma). During that five-hour gap in the middle, being my job, I’d check in an average person an hour.

            On Fridays it seemed Dr. Rhodes had a minimal schedule, just two people coming in the entire time I was there. They had long sessions, over an hour each, but I didn’t notice anyone or anything unless they were in my domain, the waiting room. In two week it was easy for me to understand the busy days, and the slow days. Mondays the busiest, and Fridays and Sundays tying at slowest.

            I never had really thought about doing anything other than twisting my hair, and looking at the clock on the wall since it took me an extra few seconds to read than the one on the computer. I hadn’t even let my curiosity lead to the idea of reading someone’s files. That was all Mason.

            I came across Penelope Hendrix’s file on a Friday. The H-K file cabinet was pulled out, slightly a jar, but a folder that had been pulled up blocked it from closing. I should’ve pushed it down, closing it up, but I didn’t. I just read the name on the top, and let it be. It never crossed my mind I could open it up, and that may have been because I knew it was illegal, but I just wasn’t curious about it. Penelope may have been nosy about me, but I already knew about her and unlike some people in this place she wasn’t a mystery. If I were going to commit a crime I wouldn’t have wanted to do it for Penelope Hendrix.

            “Gray, what’s this?” Mason asked, not keeping his voice quiet since no one was in the waiting room. I looked over my shoulder to where he stood behind me, his fingers lightly touching the folder I’d discovered earlier that morning.

            “Just a file your uncle left out,” I replied, watching as he slowly picked it up, pulling out the drawer so it wouldn’t lock shut. I wanted to tell him to put it down, but I didn’t say anything to him, I just stared at him, cutting lasers into his head. I was that girl who didn’t like drinking the soda you bought until you were out of the grocery store because I didn’t want them to think I was stealing it. I was that girl who gave my dad dirty looks when he opened the eggs at the store to make sure there weren’t cracks. I hated the idea of something thinking I was doing something even if I never went far enough to do it.

            “You know this girl?” he asked, his finger under the flap of the file, ready o open it. I shrugged, tucking a loose auburn strand behind my ear. “Well, I know her brother, and I can’t imagine she’s much better,” he continued, and I didn’t say anything, although he was obviously waiting for a reply.

            “It’s not like it’s their fault,” I replied, “their dad died.” I said the words, hoping that it would give Mason a reason to put the folder back, slipping it in it’s slot and shutting the drawer. It was automatically lock and he’d walk back out to the seating area, resting his feet on the couch as he sat in the adjacent chair.

             “You see Blake here at all?” he asked, and I shrugged. “Anyway, just because your parent is dead doesn’t give you an excuse to be an asshole,” he said, and I watched him, wondering if maybe his parents were like mine, barely there, “or a bitch in what I assume is Penelope’s case.”