Social Casualty

Chapter 2

I put my Biology books in my locker and slam it in frustration.

"Why so pissed Peeta Bread?" Finnick asks me.

"Don't call me that." I grumble.

Finnick just laughs it off "Wanna go catch a coffee with me and the guys?"

I Shake my head "Can't. Ms. Lyme wants me to go talk to the school's counselour." I say.

"I thought you already had therapy outside of school." Finnick questions.

"I do" I state "I'd better get going." I turn on my heels.

"Do you want us to wait for you?" Finnick offers.
"No need." And with that I head towards Mr. Abernathy's office.

Mr. Abernathy is the school's counselour, but in a place like this few people actually need his services. Only someone like me, out of place and somewhat lunatic, would be found knocking on his office door.
Mr Abernathy is definitly the only teacher in this school that I find half-decent, mostly because: A- he doesn't judge me (he's usually to drunk to do so; B-he sometimes seems to be even more out of place than me, with his shaggy her and crumpled clothes; C- I simply like his chill. Also, he also doesn't enjoy the school's calm, disciplined hallways.

I knock on the wooden door. There's shuffling of feet from behind the door and a few grumbles, then I hear a hoarse 'Come in'. I push the door and come in the office, and stand by the door, clasping tighly my backpack, while staring at Mr. Abernathy's washed-out grey eyes. "Sit" he demands.

I take a sit in one of the wooden chairs infront of his desk, while he stares deeply at me. His gazes pieces through me and makes me feel uneasy, but I try not to show it.

"Ms. Lyme told me to come here." I say flatly, trying to ignore the awkwardness in this interaction. Mr. Abernathy nods, but says nothing, not once taking his gaze from me, as if he was studying me, discovering my weaknesses.

"Sooo..." I trail off.

Finally Mr. Abernathy takes his gaze of me, with a look that makes me feel like he just figured me out, everything single secret I have or ever had, it's has if he knows it all, even when I farted and said it was Finnick. "Before we start, you're already warned that I don't like it when people call me Mr. Abernathy. Haymitch is just fine, no need for such pleasentries." he starts. Immediatly I feel relieved that he finally said something, instead silently studying me.

"Thank God, I suck at pleasentries." I exhale, although that wasn't supposed to be said out loud.

I was sort of expecting that Haymitch would start lecturing me about my snarky comments like Effie would, or my stepmother would, or mostly everyone else I know would, but he doesn't. Instead, he chuckles loudly, and takes a sip from his coffee. By the smell of it, I'd say he puts there some vodka. "Well, thank god you're not a total bumm. I don't think I could take a gloomy depressed guy in my office." Haymitch pipes up.

"Isn't your job to deal with gloomy depressed guys in your office?" I remark.

"I guess you could say that." he mumbles in response, directing his gaze to the stack of papers he has in his front. "So, you tried to suicide some weeks ago?" he starts.

I shake my head "It wasn't exactly like that." I explain "I didn't mean to. I mean, I did mean to but I wasn't thinking. I mean, I was thinking, but not like-" I'm cut off by Haymitch.

"But that's what happened." he states.

I sigh "Technically." I simply say. "Why am I even talking to you about this? I already have therapy outside of school. There's no need for me to be here." I complain, starting to feel frustrated yet again.