I Knew You Were Trouble.

Chapter 7: Letting your guard down ?

A/N

PAUSE, I just want to say sorry for not writing in such a long time i've been busy and then I was thinking of exactly how I should form my thoughts of the story into words. Hope you are still reading things get better and better! "I LOVE DRAMA, IT'S SO DRAMATIC"

Entering the room with full confusion on my face, I sat on the bed. I decided to take a quick break before walking back out and experiencing a full real day of therapy and chores. I sighed and melted into the cushion beneath me, rest must be one of the best things in my life right now.  Tohni walked in with a worried look on her face.

"Hey, are you relaxed? Cause you were really tense out there and I know you have your..... breakdowns." She bit her lip a little.

"Yeah i'm cool, Sam is just annoying, i'll be down in one second." I smiled and sat up.

"Alright, cause you're up first with Rob." She winked and fanned herself. I was a bit confused and she must've picked up. "He's the cute therapist, I mean really cute, when you see him you'll fan yourself too." She stuck her tongue out and left the room whilst I rolled my eyes.

Teenage girls, and their hormones. Tsk.

I got up and adjusted my hair and clothing to their rightful place. Exiting the room I realized how pathetic I felt, I was about to speak to a therapist. A hot one at that..... What was he going to ask me? I hope he's not annoying and figures everything that comes out of my mouth has some deep meaning in my life. 'Cause that surely isn't true.

Making my way over to the therapist's office, I stepped inside expecting a decent looking older guy, but was met by a heavenly angel. What is going on here. Why is The Therapist a 35 year old clone of the young Orlando Bloom?

Dumbfounded, I stood in silence, awaiting his response to my behavior. He simply nodded a greeting to me and motioned toward the chair sat in front of him. I looked at the chair, then at him, then at the chair again and decided to take a seat, fiddling at my blouse so that my fingers were occupied. He wrote down something and began.

"Hello, I understand your name is Arianna and you are here because of growing anger management problems? Nice to meet you, i'm Rob the therapist." He extended a hand toward me and I took it.

"Uh, yeah that sounds right, same to you." I shook his hand and then let go, letting it fall back into it's original position and taking on a better posture. He gazed at me for a moment then words escaped his lips again.

"Let's start by talking about your parents." He leaned back in his chair, placing the bottom of his pen onto his lips and giving me a look to start. I nearly rolled my eyes, why this topic?

"Well, they are my parents, they feed me, give me a place to stay and consider me their daughter although we have our rough patches." I said with a smile. He tapped the pen on his teeth.

"Well, yes those sound like the basic roles of a parent but due to the fact that they are not your biological parents I still have to wonder if they do what you forgot to mention." He said, in a questioning tone.

"What did I fail to mention?" I replied smugly.

"Love." He said, simply.

"Love is a non-factor of course they love me they wouldn't have adopted me and kept me for so long if they didn't." I gave him a "duh" look and he laughed a bit.

"Alright I guess you can say that, so why is there need for the rough patches, what brings them about?" He said, writing more information down.

"I don't know? Bad grades, failure to be mannerly, hanging out with the 'wrong crowd', choosing to be my own person instead of a robot clone of the other plastic, fake creatures that live in my neighborhood." I shrugged my shoulders. He looked a bit surprised.

"And what does that mean?" He continued.

"That means that I don't want to be like the rich, clueless girls that surround me and that's what they want from me!" I let my voice rise just a bit, why is he asking stupid questions he already knows the answers to!

Nodding lightly he wrote more down. Oh, this notebook, this annoying notebook.

"So what makes you so different from these girls? You wear the same designer clothes, the makeup, you live on the same street, and it seems you're rebellious which they probably are to." he leaned back again.

"What makes me different?! They are... like... whores and absolute bitches that will never be a true friend and use money to their advantage in life, and make fun of those who aren't as fortunate! I'm completely different!" I snapped. "You're obviously in the wrong profession!" I got up and walked out leaving him there to continue his notebook journey.

Exhaling deeply, I walked to the gym where the spa room was and let the steam calm me. About half an hour later I rejoined civilization, bumping into a familiar face on the way. Sam.

"How was the session?" I asked him, but he ignored me.

"Hey, wait, I just wanted to ask you something." I said and he turned to me with an emotionless face. "Are you really Michelle's sister? Straight-A Michelle? Sought after Michelle? The most pop-" He cut me off.

"Yes, now can you shut up and leave me alone." He stared at me with an intense look. I guess the session took a lot out of him.

"Well, I was just asking because you're nothing like her, complete opposites, I find it so weird you could even be related to her, let alone share the same house!" I scratched my head and he looked ready to punch me.

"What's so hard to believe huh?" He inched closer to me, "I am not HER, so get it through your thick  fucking skull!" He shoved his fingers into my head. "She's my blood sister, and we aren't the same person so quit being quick to compare." I sensed a mixture of hurt and anger in his eyes before he left me standing there speechless.

What is his problem?