Before The Sunrise

soup

Beth's proud of me again, for completing my assignment.

  "This is good work, James," she says, smiling.

Whatever.

"Do you dream about your mom a lot?"

I shrug.

"Have you had this specific dream consistently since she died?"

I click twice, bouncing my leg up and down. I'm not really in the mood to talk about my feelings today.

"James, you seem distracted today," Beth says.

I shrug.

"What's up?"

I just shake my head, waving her on.

"Hm. If you're sure. Just let me know if you want to change the subject."

Beth pauses, like she's waiting for me. When I don't acknowledge the silence, she continues.

    "Let's return to my question from last time. Are you mad at your mom?"

I still don't know. I shrug.

"Okay," Beth says. "Let's try this one. Are you mad at yourself for what happened to your mom?"

My mouth goes dry. How'd she know to ask that?

"James?" Beth prompts. "Are you still yellow?"

I click twice.

"What makes you think you're responsible for an event that happened when you were nine years old?"

I shrug. I should have just told her I was in the red zone, so we could stop talking.

"James, if this had happened to DeAndre when he was that age, would you say it was his fault?"

I nearly jump out of my fucking skin, and my side is on fire. I put the clicker on the table and clench my fists, stabbing my nails into my palms.

Beth has to stop to lead me through the breathing exercise. I calm down, but it still fucking hurts to breathe.

    She passes me the notebook and says, "Okay, you gotta tell me what you're thinking about. We won't get anywhere until you do."

I hesitate.

"Remember, anything you say in here is confidential."

If I don't get this out of my system, I'm going to fucking explode.

I think I'm in love with my best friend

Beth keeps her face impressively neutral. Meanwhile, I'm about to vibrate out of my skin.

"By your best friend, you mean DeAndre, right?"

I nod vigorously, clicker abandoned.

"And this is what is causing you extreme anxiety right now?"

I nod again.

"So there's no chance this feeling is mutual?"

I shake my head, my stomach churning. I shove my hand into my side. Fuck. How did Dad's conversion therapy actually fucking work?

"What makes you so sure?"

I roll my eyes.

Beth shoves the notebook back at me. "Explain it like I'm five."

he's straight

The letters are crooked.

"What evidence are you using to make this conclusion? Does he have a girlfriend or something?"