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