førest // tøp

e i g h t e e n

"I don't get why we're making such a big deal out of this," Tyler says.

"Why do you think we shouldn't be?" Dr. Paulson says.

Tyler shrugs. "It's just sex," he says. "Plenty of kids do it."

"Most kids do it because they like it," Tyler's mom says gently.

"But I liked it, Mom," Tyler says, frowning. "I like it."

His mom stares. "You- you liked it?"

"Yes," he says. "Why? Should I not have?"

"Well, no, I- I mean..."

"What?" Tyler demands.

"We didn't think you would ever be able to enjoy sex," Dr. Paulson interjects. "Not after what happened with Dr. Craig."

Tyler freezes.

"But Dr. Craig," he pauses, swallowing, "he just- he just hit me. Right?"

"Oh, god," his mom says, burying her head in her hands. "Oh, Tyler."

"Momma?" Tyler says softly, suddenly so so scared.

His mom just shakes her head, burying her face in Tyler's father's shoulder.

"Dad?" Tyler asks softly, and his father swallows hard, intertwining his fingers with his wife's.

"Tyler, Dr. Craig-" he pauses, taking a deep breath, "Dr. Craig..." He shakes his head, looking to Dr. Paulson.

"Tyler," Dr. Paulson says, his normally calm expression looking troubled, "Dr. Craig would hit you, yes. But, ah..." He runs a hand through his thinning hair. "He would, well, hurt you. Sexually."

Tyler sits back.

"He'd- he'd rape me," he says dully.

"Molest you, yes," Dr. Paulson says softly, eyes full of rooster-crow sadness.

"And I didn't remember?" Tyler asks.

"That was a severe amount of trauma for a child that young, Tyler," Dr. Paulson says. "It's not surprising that you repressed those memories."

"But no one ever told me?" Tyler questions.

"We saw no need to upset you," Dr. Paulson explains. "It would've only hurt you."

"We're so sorry, Tyler," his mom interject tearfully. "So sorry."

"Sorry, sorry," Tyler mumbles to himself. "Everybody's fucking sorry."

"And this is where Josh comes in," Dr. Paulson says. "You started talking about him not too long after Dr. Craig became your therapist."

"So?" Tyler asks.

"Tyler," Dr. Paulson says softly, "Josh is a coping mechanism. He's not real."

"No," Tyler tries to say, but things are starting to click into place. "Oh. Oh, no."

"I'm sorry," Dr. Paulson says, looking genuinely apologetic.

"But... but we..." Kissed. Touched. Made love. It was real.

Was it?

Tyler buries his head in his hands. No one else has ever seen Josh. No one else can prove he exists.

Hell, Tyler doesn't even know Josh's last name.

Oh, god.

"Tyler," his mom says, "do you want anything? Do you need anything?"

Tyler's shaking his head slowly, digging ragged nails into his knees.

"No, no," he says, squeezing his eyes shut. "No."

"Tyler," somebody says. He doesn't know who, because everything is starting to blur in his ears.

"The food is poisoned," he whispers before everything goes dark.