How To Stay Afloat (BxB)

Chapter 53: therapy is just wasted time and money

Detention sucks big time. Why? Oh well, first of all the stupid teacher doesn't believe me when I say I need to leave earlier. I have to call my mom to confirm it. Guess what? I call Carla. She knows how to nail a mother voice.

After that I spend almost two hours just sitting there in an empty classroom with three other students. At least I can get some homework done.

When I finally get to leave at 3:20 the other students complain about me leaving early and the teacher of course has to tell them the reason for it. I guess by now everyone knows what a freak I am anyway.

Now I'm on the train to the center. Luckily I already know the building I have to go to, since there's a café in the same building that I've been at before.

I look at the signs at the door. There's a dentist on the first floor, the therapist on the second and a tattoo and piercing studio at the top. Interesting combination if you ask me. It's an old building with a beautiful narrow staircase with slippery steps.

"Samuel, right?" A woman asks me as I ring a bell at the door to the therapist's office. Her name is Meghan. She instantly tells me to call her by her first name so we can be more relaxed while talking to each other. She looks to be around thirty.

Meghan has long brown curly hair that she has in a braid. She wears a long black skirt and a blouse. It doesn't really flatter her figure because her legs look super short with the skirt.

There is another therapist, too. They both share the office and each has a separate room.

We sit down in her room. It's pretty warm in there and the couch I'm sitting on makes a noise every time I move.

"We're not gonna focus on drugs and your addiction because you already have therapy sessions that are focussed on that. So when we meet we only focus on you and your mental health." She says with a smile.

I try my hardest not to show how much I hate this.

"Okay." I say with a smile. I don't need this. I don't wanna talk to a stranger about my problems and my feelings.

She starts off by telling me about herself. Lame. She likes cats, she studied psychology and after that she did an additional master's degree specializing in psychotherapy. She's religious and she likes to sing.

Then she asks me to tell her about me.

"I'm eighteen. I'm in my final year of school. Uhm." What else is there to say? "I recently moved here with my parents in july so I'm still getting used to living in a big city, I guess."

She nods. "Let's talk about your move here. Why did you come here?"

Of course that's what she'd ask first.

"My dad got offered a high position at the hospital here." I explain.

She draws her eyebrows together. "So you moved before your last school year for your father's job? Did you have a conversation about it beforehand? Did you have a say in this?" She asks.

Why would I even have a say in this?

"Well, we actually planned on moving after I graduate, but then something came up and my parents decided to move earlier." I tell her.

"What came up?"

I sigh. Right to the point. I really don't wanna talk to her. This is just annoying and doesn't help anyone. Maybe it helps her because I'm sure she gets a lot of money for this. I don't even wanna know how much money my parents are spending on this treatment for me. I know for sure that they don't need to pay the full price because of our insurance, but even a part of it is probably extremely expensive.