Chapters (63)
- THE AMERICANA PLAYBOOK
- Dear Reader
- The Troubled Teen Industry
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- New England Rebels
- Day 44
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Day 55
- Chapter 5
- TWO MONTHS LATER
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Day 68
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Day 78
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Day 84
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Day 91
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Day 100
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Day 113
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Day 128
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Day 147
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Epilogue
- ONE MONTH LATER
- FIVE YEARS LATER
- Acknowledgments
- Also by Cathryn Carter
- About the Author
Dear Fitzy,
Today I’ve been gone 84 days.
Most of them have been so bad I wonder if I’m living in a nightmare.
Mr. Foller once told me that I have a false perception of reality after I mentioned that I’m not loved by anyone anymore with Honey gone, especially Mom and Dad. “You’re over-exaggerating,” he said. “You’re making it seem that way.”
He basically called me a liar.
But I know that’s not true. Because all of these things I’m about to tell you happened to Sarah too. One day, she’ll tell her own story, to you, to her family, to the world. Here is part of mine. These are the things that have been done to me since day 1:
Kidnapping
Strip-searching, supervised showers
Slapped in face
Hands tied behind my back
No medical care, denied food
Locked in dark room for first three days
Not allowed to shower after I peed my pants
Each thing has cut away from me. Each thing is a scar I’ll always have.
I’ve lost skin. I’ve lost my dignity. They think they broke me, Fitz. Sometimes, I think it too. I’m not sure I’ll ever recover the missing pieces. I wonder if the breaking began before here. If it did, I hope a missing piece is with you.
Rebels Only.
Parker
Chapter 18
“You’re going to have to tell me what I’m supposed to do exactly.”
“What makes you think I have any idea? We’re just here to smile and look like we buy her bullshit. Oh. And that we’re in love,” Parker adds, looking up at me.
I gnaw on the inside of my bottom lip, counting six cameras beaming at his from the back of the auditorium. I lift my arm and snake it around Parker’s waist.
“What are you doing?”
Her voice sounds surprised, but her body feels easily relaxed.
I’m about to tell her I’m doing as I should—looking in love—but stop. That’s because entranced by the smell of Parker’s hair.
“You didn’t buy new shampoo yet?” I ask.
She freezes, as if she’s been caught red-handed, and stumbles over her words, embarrassed I’ve caught her still using my shampoo. “I keep forgetting. Yours smells nice though.”
I hope at least someone in this room has a camera on us right now. Because the smile on my face knowing that part of her likes smelling like me? It definitely does the job. It’s award winning.
I have to bite my tongue to avoid teasing her because the charter school’s principal has just introduced Candice, who is here to talk to a room full of teachers and parents.
“Isn’t it weird she’s campaigning without your dad?” I eye Massachusetts’s governor, watching on as Candice takes the podium and begin to speak.