"No one takes anyone at their word anymore," Rae said, wistfully remembering days when trust was paramount and people actually believed and cared about one another. "It makes me miss the way things used to be. When it was easy to know who you could trust and easy to be someone that people trusted. It's a sad world when even I don't trust people," she mused. All her life, Rae had been trusting. She just liked people; it was the way she was. And she wanted to be both trustworthy and trusted. It was a shame that she could count the amount of people who did both of those things on two hands.
She laughed a little bit when Sarah called her "the former sicky," shaking her head and shrugging a shoulder. "Not so former. I still sound like Chuckie Finster with a cold and breathe like I've got tissue up each nostril. I'm just glad they let me out finally. I was getting sick of the tent and the constant poking and prodding and just… being treated like I was sick. I think that's the best way to put it. I was getting sick of being treated like a sick person." Which, of course, she had been, but that was another problem entirely.
"I will judge you all I want. I tried one of those things and felt like I wanted to vomit for a month. They're like… cardboard tasting. I mean we're in no spot to be picky, no, but I can't imagine what that crap does to your insides." She smiled as she thought of the old days; Mexican Mondays when she and Sarah hit up Arriba Tortilla for their lousy Mexican food and ordered everything they could possibly eat (which for Sarah had been a lot). Her stomach grumbled and she resolved to deal with the cardboard taste of canned enchiladas later, just because of the memory. "I never thought I'd miss Arriba Tortilla."
She paused and shrugged when Sarah asked her how she got through it. "Dad came to visit me a couple times. Eli, too. That and you know me. Obnoxiously cheerful. Takes more than a little boredom to bring me down…" she chuckled.