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I once lived in a nice neighborhood in the northern part of Seattle. I was born and raised in that area, but my family moved to a different part of the city which fundamentally altered my life. I attended an expensive private school that didn’t offer sexual education. I was an honors student with straight A’s and brought up Catholic through the influence of my maternal grandparents. In October of 2000, I was accepted to read at Northwest Bookfest, but I attended the Ambaum Recovery Center for inpatient treatment instead. My admission was for using marijuana, which started socially during lunchtime with the kids at my school as I entered my junior year. I toughened up and expeditiously adapted to having no privacy. I learned a lot during my stay as multiple boys grabbed my crotch under the table. One of them was kicked out for it because I couldn’t stop myself from crying hysterically.
When I could get the words out of my mouth to tell the counselor what he’d done to me, they removed him from the premises. I had a roommate named Shauna who had a petite build and curly brown hair. She showed me “the ropes,” as she referred to them. I implored the staff to let me go home if there was any way possible, but there wasn’t. I committed to waiting out my thirty days instead of walking out as I’d watched others do since my arrival, going against medical advice. In mid-November, a girl named Bunny, who I’d become close friends with, used my gel pens to draw the word Bunny in bubble lettering on the blue cover of my Alcoholics Anonymous book. She jotted down her number inside and said she wanted to get together with me. The morning of my release was referred to as a wake-up in the facility. Bunny hugged me and exclaimed, “hit me up on the outs!” I couldn’t have been any happier to be free of that place. We’d used the A.A. books within the center to write to each other when parting, much like yearbooks. The nickname “Lil Bunny” was something we had called each other while in treatment, and it ended up sticking, as she’d later become one of my best friends. Upon discharge, I was transferred to Ambaum continuing care drug and alcohol center in Ballinger for outpatient treatment...
On January 2, 2001, I first met Howie in the outpatient program we mutually attended. The walls of the room were covered in our collage projects for sobriety. The teenagers present took turns giving short introductions about themselves and explaining their artwork. When Howie had his turn to share, he started by saying that he’d had a severe substance abuse problem. He confirmed that his drugs of choice were weed, alcohol, and mushrooms while sitting directly across the long table lengthwise. He had a tremendously confident expression as we held eye contact. I found that his gaze was impossible to break as we stared at each other for a seemingly ridiculous length of time. The fluorescent light fixtures were buzzing above, and it was suddenly as if no one else was in the room but us. Howie stood and held up his project, which had just a few carelessly cut images glued onto the paper. I was fixated on him the whole time he spoke as our eyes stayed locked for the entire time. It was the first day that my mother had let me take her vehicle by myself because I’d just received my driver’s license. It was January 3, 2001, and it was also the initial instance that I dropped Howie off at his house in Seattle. After the group session, some of us had decided to go to Denny’s, the local diner just down the street. Jay would often take the bus from the south end and attend meetings at the EDL, where I’d met him. I suggested that he meet me after treatment, as he did not participate in Ambaum. He’d taken the bus to Blue Diamond Village to meet with both me and my group of friends from treatment. I invited Jay to tag along as a passenger in my parent’s vehicle with my other friends Bunny, Howie, Matheson, and Michael. I let him know that I could either meet him there or that I’d come back and get him. I called him out on being bonkers when he said he wouldn’t mind riding in the trunk as he jumped in and closed it on himself. He’d spared me the extra trip because there wasn’t enough seating in my parent’s vehicle, but the curb had been higher than I’d anticipated as I’d come around the curve into the parking lot at Denny’s. I was fretful as I stopped the vehicle and discovered that the rear passenger tire was flat. All I could think about was if he was all right in the back. I was very relieved when I pulled into the parking space, and he got out and doubled over with laughter at my reaction. I knew that my mother would give me a hard time about the tire later, so at the urging of my friends, I resolved to try and enjoy the restaurant. We went into Denny’s and chain-smoked in the booth section with the patterned sheet metal wall next to the fifties style barstool area. We ordered glasses of soda with strawberry dessert chunks in them and sucked them through the straws, which was Bunny’s idea. All of us delinquent teens at the table formed the straw wrappers into balls and flicked them at each other. The waitress came to the table to take our food order and rolled her eyes at us as she walked away...
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I was not even through the first chapter, and I found I was personally invested in this young girl who had to be in her early teens when she was moved into a private catholic school where, at least it seemed to me, all hell began to break lose and Kelsey was a girl, all alone... I saw quickly that her parents seemed not to be really involved with her life. Yet, I also saw nonverbal signs that I knew were important... The major one that she had been allowed to start taking out the family car as soon as she got her license. All of her friends were jealous because their parents were not willing to do the same. Yet, even as Kelsey wrote, there was not once in her entire story that she ever referred to that vehicle as anything but "her parents car." I would say that even she was unsure exactly why she was being allowed to drive a car, even while she was in rehab for drug and alcohol abuse... Something was wrong! I wanted to stop reading the book right then and try to help...
But it only got worse. As things were happening faster, I could almost see Kelsey trying to slow things down--trying to prevent what she was being pulled into, perhaps because she was the only one that could drive??? I was afraid for her. I had a right to be. If you choose to read this book, please read it because you have a young teen for whom you are concerned. Parents and Grandparents especially. In my opinion, her grandparents acted in good faith when they sponsored her private schooling... But I can guarantee that they did NOT do any checking of references about the quality of the school and its teachers. Note that the reports about sexual assault of children by priests was already well known by the time this was happening...
During the years that Kelsey was going through her teen years, getting deeper and deeper, once in a while her mother would text her that she was concerned that they were no longer as close as they once were... Remember she was in her teens...
I can remember my mother, while waiting for me, wondering what I was doing for so long, she got out of the car and came to find me... Of course, I lied to her, hurrying from the restroom where I had run to, but I knew that I was just goofing off, flirting with a guy I was interested in... I had to be in my early 20s, but I knew not to cross my mother when, I knew, she was right to question... About the lying? I'll wager that every child in America had done that... What is the guidance we may remember--I sure do... but it sometimes takes time for it to sink in, doesn't it?
When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things. --I Cor.
Now, I have to ask, what in the world would a mother be doing texting a young girl who is in rehab but living at home?! Why was Kelsey on her own so much, with a car, at 16, having just got her license, and thus, with little experience? Notice that in the excerpt above, she wasn't even able to deal with a tire deflating! I was fuming! In fact, I'm more mad now than before. While reading I was so involved in wanting to see something good happen! I think it is relevant, though, that there was little written about either of her parents or grandparents, other than the early reference that she was relocated into a new environment in which she was forced to face everything new, on her own... (She has written two other books, which I'll be reading. Given the quality of writing for this book, I'm confident that the things that confused me will be clarified...)
On the other hand, I hope that, because of its content, that parents will not "ban" the book... It is obviously one that will reveal what teen girls, and boys, are facing in today's world...Reading somebody else's experiences just could save another girl, or boy, from the same problems or mistakes...
I was therefore very, very disappointed when, when Kelsey needed her most of all, her mother chose not to believe her daughter rather than two young men who were slick liars and conmen...and had just not only kidnapped her from her home, but again abused Kelsey... Please know that this book is not an easy read. However, it certainly is recommended. We all need to know that we are not alone in facing unimaginable issues--but can make it through them--ultimately stronger for the experience. A strong female who can stand on her own and, realize, no matter what, she can and should say No when she wants too! We must work to ensure that happens! I've already downloaded the two other books from this author. Her reviews are good; her bravery is outstanding!
Plan to come back to spend time with Kelsey, Rory and me as we talk about the issues covered in Double Crossed where three women of different ages, explore their early years of becoming women. I was not surprised at what we found...Will you Be?
GABixlerReviews
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