Die In California

19

Devyn's POV:

"But Devyn- I- Linda decided to set up some therapy sessions with this new woman, called Dr Holloway-" JP really had the nerve to do that behind my back? It was bad enough that he called her without me knowing, the two of them bitching about me like old fucking women. But he just had to take it one step further. He had to arrange therapy.

I knew that something was wrong as soon as he said that he needed to talk to me. His tone had dropped from the lighthearted one he'd used earlier, and I could feel his stare on me, watching my every movement, gauging my reaction. I'd tried to not let my anxiety show. Or that sinking feeling he'd just given me.

"And what would that be?" I had asked, trying to keep my voice as level as possible. He took a moment to himself, probably trying to work out how I was feeling, before dropping the 'I spoke to Linda' bomb. Right then, I almost lost it. I had noticed that I pushed the needle into the skin of his arm a little too hard, but I didn't care. I was trying to keep my breathing even, to try and keep my progressively shaky hand still. I was trying to keep composed, to show that it no longer affected me, even if that was complete bullshit.

"And what did she say?" I could see JP eyeing me up out of my peripheral vision. My calm tone and seemingly normal expression were messing with him, I could tell. JP relayed the conversation to me, ending with an announcement that Linda was proud of me - for the progress I'd made by getting myself out there and completing a tattoo course.

Just the thought of Linda, someone I looked to for survival when I was at my lowest point, being proud of me made me want to smile. I wanted to smile so fucking big, and maybe even giggle. She was proud of me! I'd only heard that from JP's parents (and mine when I was younger, before everything happened), so it was rare, especially after these last few months. She was proud. And that made me so fucking happy. And so fucking proud of myself! I felt like I had achieved something great in life.

But I couldn't let that show. JP could use it against me; it was showing weakness. And anyway, he'd just gone behind my back to bitch about me with Linda. I was supposed to be pissed at him. So I hid it. And I like to think I hid it well.

But then his demeanour changed. He had something else to say, and it wasn't going to be more praise from Linda, or more encouragement, pride, anything of the sorts. I could tell by the way he shifted slightly on the chair, and how his fingers were unconsciously drumming against the arm of the chair. It was going to make or break things.

"But Devyn- I- Linda decided to set up some therapy sessions with this new woman, called Dr Holloway-" I lost control of my hand as it pushed the needle into his skin harder. He winced, playing it off as being a wimp for once, while I just kept going, paying it no mind while focusing entirely on my breathing and the drawing in front of me. "I don't need to go, JP." I shook my head, keeping as calm as I could. Sure, I was bubbling up inside, but I needed to keep it under wraps. For the sake of my future career.

JP continued to try and softly argue his point, trying to not pressure me into it or aggravate me any more, but it wasn't working. So I decided to end it before something truly started. "No, JP. We're not talking about this now." I sternly spoke as I continued to focus on his arm, getting my work done. That was all that mattered at that point.

We didn't speak properly for the rest of the session, an awkward silence taking over instead. I just couldn't get over the fact that he'd gone behind my back to arrange something that he knew I'd hate. He knew I would never agree to go to therapy again, not now that I felt somewhat normal again. It would only mess me up again, bringing up my past, and I wasn't ready to uncover that again.

The whole way home, I avoided JP. Ashleigh got us McDonald's to celebrate, but I just couldn't bring myself to be happy. JP had ruined my day; he'd rained on my parade, and I couldn't find myself being proud for finishing the exam, and the course. He'd fucked me over.