The Void Between Stars: Book 4 Of The Orion Series

Stacy

[TRIGGER WARNING! Mention of abortion and suicide. Discussion of dubious consent wherein r*pe is mentioned.]

"Let's discuss Stacy."

"Do we have to?"

I'm in my final session for the day. In group therapy (which there are two of, a morning group and a night group) I'm treated as a fresh patient. In all of my individual therapies, however, we're picking up right where we left off last time I was here.

I really, really don't want to talk about Stacy right now. I'm emotionally spent from the rest of the sessions I had today. I'm physically spent from my blinding, detox-induced headache, and from not even being able to keep water down.

My therapist/psychiatrist, the one I see for my depression here at the facility, sits before me. He's different from the woman I had last time (apparently she moved). My therapist, the one who I see in Vermont and who was with me in the hospital when I tried to kill myself, is going to phone in once a week and will be in contact with this guy. As such, he has my file pulled up on his computer and he has a notepad ready to use.

He smiles softly at me. "Orion."

I sigh heavily and run my hands through my hair. "Whatdoyawannaknow?"

"Anything. Everything."

I sigh again. "Want me to start from the beginning?"

"Yes, please. For our first few sessions together, I want to get to know you. I want to hear you talk about the things that happened in your own voice." The pleasant smile stayed, and I wanted to smear it off his face with my hand. So I crossed my arms. "Notes are great and everything, but I want to know you."

Now I look at the ceiling. "Stacy was a girl I met through my band mates, Jake and Ben. She was Jake's next door neighbor and best friend. We hit it off immediately, and we started dating. She was the first serious relationship I had in my life. She stole my virginity from me. She was the first person I loved romantically."

My psychiatrist is writing something down, and I can't help but wonder what as I continue.

"In High School we had a pregnancy scare. When it turned out to be a false alarm, we went right back to our physical relationship. Then we had another scare, which turned out not to be a scare--she was actually pregnant. In our infinite wisdom," I say bitingly, "we decided it would be best if she got an abortion. She did, and then killed herself shortly thereafter."

For a moment he didn't reply to me. I don't know if he was expecting me to continue or what, so I didn't say anything, either. After what felt like an hour, he spoke.

"She stole your virginity from you?"

"Did I say that?"

He looks at me evenly. "Yes, you did."

I wave a dismissive hand. "I lost my virginity to her. Whatever. You know what I mean. I was her first and she was my first."

"But that's not what you said."

I don't know where he's going with this, but I don't like it. I pucker my lips and remain silent.

"Could we talk about this?" he pries softly.

I'm trying really hard to not be pissed, but my nerves are shot. So I fold my hands in my lap and glare. "Sure, though I don't know what there is to discuss."

"Could you tell me how losing your virginity to her played out, exactly?"

I can feel myself flush. It takes literally every ounce of willpower I have remaining to not lash out at him. From here on out, I don't think he knows he'll be treading on thin ice. I hope how badly I'm glaring clues him in. "If we must."