I didn’t have group today, so afterward I went to my room to do a journaling exercise, which was when my peer counselor surprised me by awarding me my board back and said I was making “exceptional progress.” It was awesome, and now I’m here, the board dipping and swaying as I cut around the course, leaving it all behind.

I don’t know what I expected inpatient therapy would be like, but it’s not awful. Some of that is definitely related to the fact that Gray insisted I go inpatient at a place that feels more like a country club than a hospital, but still. It’s more exhausting than I expected. Like sometimes I feel more tired from journaling and group than I do from spending a day mucking out all the stalls.

I haven’t really made any friends, though. Not that that’s the point, but we talk a lot about support networks and stuff for when we’re back on the outside, and right now that list consists only of Grayson and the people she pays to care about my mental health—like the staff here. I’ve seen some of the other kids hanging out and making connections, but it’s whatever.

I push harder, skating over to the ramps and doing a few kickflips on my way. The two other kids hop off their boards and walk over.

“You’re pretty good,” the first kid says. “You new?”

“Ish? I just got my board back today.”

“Congrats, man, that’s good. That’s big. Where you from?”

“Boston,” I say. “It’s like twenty minutes from here.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve heard of it,” the second kid says, feigning surprise. He flashes me an easy smile, and it feels less like he’s making fun of me and more like he’s having fun.

“Right, yeah,” I say, flipping my board into my hand. “What’s your story?” I ask, wondering where they’ve been hiding. I’d think they just got here, but the fact that they already have skate privileges says otherwise.

“I’m Hector, and this is Quinn,” the first kid says, holding out his hand. “I’m from Boston too, but Quinn’s from here.”

Quinn nods. “My mom’s one of the doctors; she lets me skate sometimes when she’s working, depending on who’s here.”

Hector thwaps his hat. “He’s also an alumnus, which he should have mentioned because that’s the real reason he gets to use the skate park. But that was before his mom came here. Now he’s sort of an unofficial mascot.”