MONDAY. 11. OCTOBER. 2021. (unedited)
SUNLIGHT poured through the window, illuminating Wren's office in the white glow of afternoon.
Max was sat in his usual seat, adjusting himself until he was comfortable and fluffing the cushion that he'd placed his back as she ushered into the room and closed the door with a firm click behind her.
"Maxwell!" She announced gleefully. Her cropped waves of black hair framed her sharp jawline and high cheekbones nicely. She'd had her hair cut recently, so that the tips barely grazed her shoulders. It looked good on her.
"Not Maxwell," he corrected, smiling at her as she waltzed around the room. She walked like she was dancing sometimes and he liked to watch the fluency of her movements, like she always knew what she was doing even when if she admitted to being clueless.
"Maximilian!" She chimed instead, setting her coffee down on the table and falling into her chair with a grace only she had. "Before we get into anything, let's talk about your attendance today."
She sat in the plush chair, cross-legged, sharp eyes studying him curiously as he gestured for her to continue. "You haven't been registered as attending any of your classes today," she remarked, narrowing her eyes and smiling. "Why's that?"
"Didn't go to them," he shrugged.
"Why not?"
"Rough weekend," he admitted, gazing at the beam of the sunlight spilling onto the floor. "I only came in for counselling."
"You planning on going home after this?" She asked him, settling further into her chair.
"I don't have it in me to go to class," he said quietly, shrugging again as his vision and the sunlight grew hazier . "I just. . . I just can't do it today."
"That's okay," she said. "I'm happy you came in for our session. You're doing your best."
He swallowed a lump that was building in his throat and fiddled with his fingers, ignoring how clammy his hands were beginning to feel. "I promise I am," he told her, tearing his gaze away from the sunlight and shuffling taller in his seat.
"I know you are," she said. "I appreciate that. Thank you."
He nodded, sinking back down against the cushion once more, hands still clasped together and his right leg bouncing erratically, uncontrollably. The tiredness he felt was the kind that you felt in your bones, the kind that weighed your whole body down and made every step feel like there were anchors attached to your feet, slowly dragging along the floor behind you.
Fatigue wracked his entire body. As soon as his head hit the pillow on Saturday night, he was out like a light and stayed locked in his slumber until the late hours of the morning. Sunday was a little rougher. He'd woken up every hour or two, restless and twitchy, legs tangled in his bedsheets and pillows tossed around the bed.
Not that it made a difference— he was equally as exhausted either way.
"You seem nervous," she said, watching him carefully. "Something to do with not going to your classes today?"
He scratched the side of his face and laughed a little uneasily. "I fucked up," he muttered.
"Go on."
YOU ARE READING
Cause for Concern ✓
Teen Fiction[BXB / unedited ] Saying that Max Oran is a disaster would be an understatement: he got himself kicked out of school, his dad has sent him to live with his emotionally distant mother and his friends don't want anything to do with him. When Max start...
