tle　dramatic。　After　all；

she　was　French。

？All　right。　Let？s　start　out　by　going　around　the　circle；？　Jackie　instructed　in　a　sunny　voice；　as　if

this　were　the　first　day　of　nursery　school。　？Tell　us　your　name　and　explain　why　you？re　here。　Keep　it

short；　please。？　She　nodded　at　Nate　to　start；　since　he　was　sitting　directly　to　her　right。

Nate　shifted　unfortably　in　his　Eames　chair。　All　the　furniture　at　the　posh　Greenwich；

Connecticut；　rehab　clinic　was　twentieth…century　modern；　to　match　the　minimalist　beige　and　white

d？cor。　The　floor　was　cream…colored　Italian　marble；　crisp　white　linen　curtains　covered　the

floor…to…ceiling　windows；　and　the　staff　wore　beige　linen　uniforms　designed　especially　by　nineties

denim　impresario　Gunner　Gass；　a　former　patient　who　was　now　on　the　facility？s　board。

？Okay。　My　name？s　Nathaniel　Archibald；　but　everyone　calls　me　Nate；？　Nate　mumbled。　He　kicked

at　the　legs　of　his　chair　and　cleared　his　throat。　？I　got　busted　a　few　days　ago　buying　weed　in　Central

Park。　That？s　why　I？m　here。？

？Thank　you；　Nate；？　Jackie　interrupted。　She　smiled　a　frosty；　brown…lipsticked　smile　and　made　a

note　on　the　pad　in　her　clipboard。　？We　prefer　it　here　at　Breakaway　if　you　call　the　substance　in

question　by　its　true　name。　In　your　case；　marijuana。　If　you　can　use　its　name　consistently；　you　are

making　one　more　step　toward　your　freedom　from　it。？　She　smiled　at　Nate　once　more。　？Would　you

like　to　try　again？？

Nate　glanced　self…consciously　at　the　other　losers　in　the　group。　There　were　seven　of　them

altogether；　three　guys　and　four　girls；　all　staring　at　the　floor；　worrying　about　what　they　were　going

to　say　and　looking　just　as　unfortable　as　he　felt。

？I？m　Nate；？　N