Bad things happen to good people

Awkward

"Um," I started, because it was clear that the counselor was going to wait for me to talk first. "Why exactly am I here again?"

"Well, that is a good question." The counselor leaned back in his chair, like he was thinking. "I didn't tell you much yesterday, did I?"

"No." He really hadn't told me anything. I had a lot of questions; what exactly was my Mom worried about? Why did he set up counseling sessions for me (which aren't a thing that happens for many in my school)? What even happens in a counseling session?

"Alright. Well, we'll get into that later," He said. I wanted to know now. "But for now, your Mom has told me you've been refusing to go to the therapy sessions we put you in."

I looked down.

The counselor looked at me from his computer. He squinted, again having a look of trying to read me. I didn't like it.

"What were those sessions like?" He asked me. "Was the therapist nice?"

"I dunno," I shrugged. I really didn't feel like talking. "I guess. They were kind of pointless."

"Okay," He said, turning his chair from his computer and getting a notepad out. He wrote something down. "What do you mean by pointless?"

I peeked up at the counselor. He was looking back at me, patiently waiting for an answer.

"I don't know."

"Hm." He said. "Sorry to bombard you with questions, but how many of those sessions did you actually go to?"

I looked back down. "I don't know, maybe three or four.."

The counselor stayed quiet for a few seconds, then sat forward and sighed. He put his elbows on the desk.

"I only want to help you," He said, moving his head so head could see my face. "So does your Mom. But we can't do that if you don't let us."

I shrugged. "I don't need help, and I don't know why my mom thinks I do."

He stopped and looked at me for a moment.

"How about we discuss something else?" He said, leaning back in his chair. "How's school been going lately?"

"Fine," I said, though this wasn't really true. My grades were dropping.

"What's your favorite class?"

"Music."

"Ah! Music!" The counselor said, louder then necessary. "That was my favorite when I was your age!"

I nodded. "Cool."

"What about your least favorite class?"

This one I had to think about. I probably hate most of them equally. Math and Science were too hard, but English was just boring.

"Math," I finally said, also looking up at the counselor.

"Math does suck," He agreed, nodding. "I never really liked math. I wasn't good at it, and I'm still not to this day." He laughed.

I nodded and smiled back, although I didn't really mean it. This must've been some way for him to bond with me or something. More of his and Mom's plans.

"Well," He glanced to his watch. "There's about fifteen minutes left of the period. I'll let you go back to your study hall."

"Okay." I replied. All I really wanted was to get out of there.

"I'll see you on Thursday." He said, smiling at me.

I didn't reply. I just walked out of his office, finally out of that. Now I just had to get through the rest of the day.