Think of the Devil

Twenty-Six

Sessions never used to bother Jane. Generally speaking, she really did enjoy the work. Helping people move past their traumas, finding ways to move forward in a productive and positive way, it was fulfilling. It made having telepathy more emotionally manageable, knowing there was at least one good use of it. But that silver lining was hard to see today as the clouds kept rolling in, and Jane was struggling to find it as she sat with her client.

She couldn't really describe it, but there was an uneasiness residing in her. It wasn't a side effect of the person on her couch; this feeling belonged only to her. It gnawed at her while she sat in her first session, distracting her. While she was able to mask it, the sensation still made her less effective. After almost an hour, Jane had only scribbled a few notes and they hadn't made much progress. Fortunately for her, the client hadn't seemed to notice.

When her first session ended, Jane had about thirty minutes before her next appointment. Checking her planner, she realized it was a new client she'd spoken to over the phone earlier in the week. Strangely, she hadn't written down a name. Trying to be fair to herself, she acknowledged how crazy everything had been that week before flipping the planner closed.

Sighing, Jane figured she had time to go downstairs and have a cigarette to calm her nerves. Pulling on her old flannel and boots, she pocketed her pack and a lighter before heading down the stairs.

Alberto was in the middle of a transaction with a couple teenagers, so he only offered a small smile and a "hey, mija" as he worked the register. She headed towards the back door, gently rubbing his back as she went. He straightened up a bit and glanced over his shoulder as he exited. (Where's she going?)

Shutting the door behind her, she wasted no time in lighting up before leaning against the wall. Taking a deep breath, she tried to sort through her feelings to find the source of anxiety.

This morning with Matt had gone well, much better than she'd ever anticipated. After everything she'd told him, she was more than pleasantly surprised that he would look past it. She still wished she hadn't let her anxiety get in the way of telling him sooner, but nobody really knew that part of her life, not anymore. It was something she'd never considered telling anyone anyway, not in all the years she could remember. And in fairness to her, it's not like it was the easiest secret to spill.

So maybe that was where the lingering nerves came from? Maybe telling a secret like that after keeping it for so long should've felt cathartic, but it didn't? Even though it had a relatively positive outcome?

That answer didn't feel right. Catharsis wasn't something she ever expected to feel, not when it came to her past. Her anxiety had to come from somewhere else.

Was it Angélica? Jane knew the teenager would be at the shop any time now, the high school having gotten out during her last session. And while that was a conversation she didn't feel ready for, that anxiety still felt different. She hated the idea of lying to the girl, of controlling the narrative after what they had to go through the night prior, but it was in both of their best interests. Angélica couldn't know the truth, just like Alberto couldn't. As much as it crushed Jane to make that decision for them, she'd do it over and over again without a second thought.

Blowing smoke through her nose in frustration, she looked up at the cloudy sky. Despite the sun creeping through the clouds earlier in the day, it seemed the gray sky was going to persist into the evening. 

Jane's head tilted as she heard a familiar voice in front of the store. There she is, she thought. Focusing, she listened in to the conversation in the store as Angélica came in.

(Hola, mija. How was school?)

She set her bag down on the end of the counter. (It was fine. Is Jane upstairs?)