Major Malfunction (Sequel to American Heroes)

Making Plans

Across from his therapist, Will sits slumped in a large green chair, his mind clouded with memories of the past few months. His therapist, a middle-aged brunette woman wearing a pair of purple glasses, watches him without saying a word. This is his fourth session here, and although he doesn't want to admit it, talking to someone whom he isn't afraid will judge him has brought a bit of relief to his life. Not that he's delved into too much, but at least he knows if he does say something depressing, he's not going to receive those pitiful looks he gets from everyone else.

The ticking of the clock jars him from his thoughts. He turns his attention to its antique design. His therapist follows his gaze. "What interests you about my clock?"

Cheeks red, Will looks to her. "Oh, I don't know."

"I've noticed you looking at it in our previous sessions as well."

"I have?"

Her eyes focus on his. "Are you worried about the amount of time we have to speak?"

"I don't know. Not really." He glances back at the clock. "I don't really think much of it when I look at it."

"What are you thinking of?"

He shrugs. "Just everything. School, my friends, my family."

"Last week, you mentioned a fight you had with your mother. Did you want to talk more about that?"

"Oh, that was just a misunderstanding." When he realizes she's waiting for him to elaborate, his shoulders slump. Mentioning those assholes who keep going after him and El makes his blood boil. Even just thinking about them. "It's just... these people at school. They keep messing with me and my sister. We got in a fight at school last week, but they put all the blame on us. My mom was just angry since she thought I started the fight even though I didn't, and she's already annoyed that my grades aren't good."

"Did you tell your mother how you felt?"

He furrows his eyebrows. "About the fight? Yeah, El and I explained everything to her. But then she called the principal."

"How did that make you feel?"

"I don't know. Bad. Those jerks won't leave us alone now since they got in trouble, and they know that we told on them."

"Did you think your mother was trying to protect you by calling the principal?"

"Of course. I mean... I'm not mad at her. I know she thinks she's doing what's best for us, but... I don't know." A warmth burns in his chest. Thinking about those assholes makes him want to burn the whole place down. Shifting his gaze to the carpet, he shakes his head. "I want to talk about something else."

She watches him for a moment, hands clasped together, resting back in her chair. "Okay." She gives a slight nod. "What do you want to talk about?"

Settling down, Will picks at the fabric on the arm of the chair. The heaviness of the past few months weighs on his mind, but he pushes the burden away. "I don't know."

"Have you been having nightmares?"

"I have them every night still. It's hard to sleep."

"And is it the same general ideas? Your friends and family being hurt. Someone chasing after you."

He nods.

"How has keeping a journal been working for you?"

"Fine, I guess. I write in it every night before I go to bed."

"That's good. Do you think it's been helping you?"

He shrugs. "Maybe. It's nice to be able to write my thoughts down, I guess."