Mess You Made

38.

Malibu.

I'm called into the counsellor's office in the morning at school. I never had to do counselling again once I asked Miguel that once, and I'm not sure what he did but it worked. Don't know why I have to be here but when the familiar face of the man pokes his head out of the door from where I'm sat in the waiting room, I tense as I always do.

Sebastian gives a curt nod, "Come in, Malibu."

I drag my bag off the chair, tug my skirt down because he has a track record of dress coding me, and begrudgingly walk through his doors. Settle myself in the chair in front of him and don't look at him because I hate him. Tiredness clings to my skin. I'm still slightly hungover.

I don't know how I fell asleep after last night. It was all a haze after the sensation of Miguel's hands over my body in the dark. Before I knew it, I was waking up to an empty bed and a message from him saying he had to leave early for his thirteen mile run, and then meetings with an NBA agent. He said he'd be back but I just slipped out of their house before anyone could see me and called Cristian to come pick me up and bring me home.

Everything was too overwhelming. I felt Miguel's hands on me every time I shut my eyes. Couldn't stop thinking about him so much that I was nervous to face him, so I headed home.

The couch was cleaned of blood. I walked in, and my breath stalled a bit when I saw it. Cristian was besides me but we have a track record of not acknowledging or speaking about things we should speak about— so I walked into the kitchen, asked him if he wanted breakfast and that was that. Rafe's safe, though.

And Cristian's going to visit papai today.

He goes habitually. Asks me everytime. Waits for the day I say yes, and each time it feels like I get closer to it but I shook my head. I can't. Not today. I've said that every time for the past year. A year allows for things to be pushed to the back of my head.

The sight of my dad will be the thing to shatter me. I can't do it. I've faced every other unbearable thing in my life with straightened shoulders, forcing my head up. This is the only one that I still can't bring myself to brave.

Sebastian sits himself in his seat, clears his throat. Expects me to look up at him but I don't.

I push back a strand of my hair, "My sessions are finished with you. Why am I here?"

"Graduation is near." He says, his voice as bland as it always has been, "I tend to do a check-up session with students I've worked with before they leave. Are you still refusing college applications?"

I nod, don't care to argue with him about it. I just want out of this room as swiftly as possible so it feels less like I'm imprisoned against my will. I've argued enough with the career advisors they made me sit with at school. My teachers, him.

I have Marci.

That's all it comes down to, really. I have a baby. I barely have time enough for high school. My attendance dipped so much when papai was gone and Marci was still so young that they put me on an attendance plan, at threat of not graduating. I barely managed this so far and Cristian's had a hard go of it, getting me to graduate the way he never did.

"Malibu."

I lift my gaze to him, making it always and evidently clear how much I loathe him.

He clasps his hands atop the desk, "If you're avoiding college because of carer responsibilities, I believe that's something we should discuss."

"I don't have anything to discuss with you." I tilt my head, "Weren't you relieved of your responsibility with me?"

Carer responsibilties. Marci has always been something to hold over my head and now he wants me to discuss her. Over my dead body. I can see his jaw lightly tick and I imagine it annoyed him, not having me under his thumb, me finding a way to escape him. Silently, I thank Miguel more than I ever have.