Bully stepbrother

26. Client

MADISON

I found myself seated next to Asher at the back of the classroom, a spot that has now become my new niche.

I struggled constantly to focus on the professor. This is my dream school, and I'm finally a psychology major. I used to think 'biological basis of behavior' was my favorite class until now, when it's hard to concentrate while my view is dominated by Caden in the front row, surrounded by the company he prefers. The girls, the girls, the girls.

They're all around him, staring, smiling, biting their lips.

Shouldn't college be a place for learning, to earn a degree and secure a good job? Well, it depends on one's intent. Perhaps wise men see college as an academic opportunity for young minds, while the girls vying for Caden's attention might have a different kind of education in mind.

I know how it will end; once they all passed from Caden's thing, there will likely be numerous job openings for freshly graduated whores out there.

Maybe I'm not in a position to judge them. Truth be told, I'm no different from them. I can't help but wonder if it's their fault or if Caden was right about my species, because even now, I can't seem to take my eyes off him.

The class was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, and I found myself chewing on the cap of my pen.

I've lost count of how many times I've tried to talk to Asher, but fear holds me back. Will it ruin our friendship?

I'm broken in a way I can't share with anyone. I shouldn't be seen as that whore of a sister. Unfortunately, that's what I've become.

After class, I watched Caden leave without a word or even a glance in my direction.

Asher and I parted ways after quickly finishing our homework in his car.

I rode my bicycle to an off-campus restaurant and grabbed hot wings for lunch before heading to work.

I've finished my courses as I promised and have already participated in four in-person therapy supervisions, plus more than five online in a short amount of time. Honestly, it's pretty chill. For now, I just sit around doing nothing because even the groups with minor issues that are used for intern training don't want a senior intern, let alone someone like me with my qualifications still in process. Can't blame them, though. I probably look like I need therapy myself.

When I arrived at my workplace, Julie, the receptionist, was at her desk. For the past couple of days, she's been nothing but kind to me. Reagan mentioned that Julie is a working mother. Despite her husband working at a casino in Nevada and showing up only twice a month or even less, Julie manages to work and care for her twin boys.

I really admire her. I think anyone who gets to know her would say the same; she's already earned my respect.

"Hey, did you check the time? You're four hours late."

My eyes widened, but not as much as they did when I saw Enzo approaching.

My sole responsibility was to be on time, yet I failed to keep track of time.

"Relax, I was joking; you're on time." She blinked, and I laughed-I couldn't help it. She always finds playful ways to reach me. "Now go to your office and wait there. You finally have an appointment today," Julie informed me with a smile.

"You can't be serious right now." My mouth dropped. "How? I mean I should start with minor cases. Is it a minor case? Does Reagan know about this?"

"Well, I am. Someone called and asked for an available therapist. You don't have to worry, their need for counseling aligns with the level you're at. Reagan suggested I list you among the other interns, and the client chose you. So this will be your first trial, and it will be recorded and supervised." She demonstrated with facial expressions and gestures that got me giggling.