Worst Summer Ever... (Book 7 of Adopted by Jenna and Tyler Joseph)

27. Samantha

"California, huh?" Doc said to me, as I sat in his office for what might be my last time.

"Yeah. I'd stay with Brendon and Sarah and go to their daughter's old high school. But Mom and Dad said I could come home at any time if I wanted to finish up here with my class. But even still, I'd be walking with my class."

"That's a pretty exciting proposition," Doc said. "And I know how you feel about Brendon and Sarah. And California."

He smiled at me with a knowing smile. I smiled back.

I stood up and walked around his office. He doesn't care if I do that. He's more interested in me being comfortable and talking than whether or not I'm sitting in a chair or even facing him.

"So, what are you thinking?" He asked.

"I don't know. I want to go and I don't want to go. I'm torn. But Dad made a good point that I've had a lot of crappy stuff in the last couple of years. And maybe a break from Ohio might not be bad. I'd have Brendon and Sarah, Pete and Joe, a bunch of Mom and Dad's friends there."

"But what about your friends?" He asked.

"Yeah. That's the thing. I asked. Mom and Dad said I can't bring them," I laughed. Doc laughed with me. I noticed a small toy sitting on Doc's desk and picked it up.

"Is this E.T.?" I asked.

"It is," Doc responded. "I've had that toy since I was eight."

"And you keep it on your desk? You know you could probably get hundreds for this if it's an original toy."

"I would never sell it. Even if I could get millions. It's been with me through a lot of things," Doc said.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Well, since this could be one of our last sessions, I want to tell you a story. Something that might explain a few things about me, our relationship and, since you're 18, and technically too old to be my patient, I want to tell you why I got into psychology and why I've fought so hard for you."

I sat back down on the couch and looked at the E.T. toy in my hands, turning it over and then looking at Doc. He took the toy from me and smiled at it.

"I got this toy from the first Happy Meal I had ever eaten. I was eight and I was in the hospital."

"Why?" I asked.

"Well, let me start from the beginning," he said.

I sat forward. I felt like he was about to let me in on something that he had never told many people and that I was lucky to hear this story.

"When I was born, my mother named me Stephen Jacob Freud. That's the name she put on my birth certificate."

"But your name is David. That's on your door, and that's what you said when I met you," I said, my eyebrow raised and somewhat confused. He nodded.

"It is. It's legally been changed to David. I'll get to it. Patience, Ms. Joseph," he smiled at me.

"Fine, sorry. Continue," I said, feeling badly that I'd interrupted him. He nodded and smiled.

"My birth mother was, well, she wasn't a good mother. I want to say she tried, but I don't think she ever really did. I was a burden. And apparently, I look like my birth father, who I've never met. And apparently, she did not like him much.

My birth mother had a lot of boyfriends. And a lot of hate. She hit me, her boyfriends, and sometimes their friends, did, uh, stuff, to me. I'm sure I don't need to define that for you."