Trees passed by quickly as my dad drove me to my first group meeting with Cleo. He hadn’t said a word to me since last night. His grip on the steering wheel told me he was still hung up on it as well.
When we pulled into the parking-lot, he killed the engine and I made a move to get out of the car. I didn’t want to be in the car with him any longer.
Before I slammed the car door shut, my dad let out a quick apology for what he said the night before. I raised my eyebrows at him and shut the door.
“Odette!” he shouted as he rolled down the passenger side window. “I… I just really miss talking with you.”
I didn’t turn around when he called out; I didn’t even break my stride. Forward I went towards Cleo’s practice. The last hope for a cure for whatever the hell it was I had.
When I entered the building, there was a circle of six chairs in the middle of the room. The mirror was still against the wall, positioned so you could see your reflection as soon as you walked in. Turning my gaze away from it I headed towards the six empty chairs.
It was fifteen minutes after twelve, and I began to wonder where everyone else was. Maybe they didn’t come until later, but that wouldn’t explain why Cleo wasn’t here. She was the therapist; the leader of this group of misfits. Where the hell was she?
Taking a seat in the chair that faced the door so I could see if anyone was coming in, I waited. Soon boredom over took me and I began to pick the cuticles on my thumbs, pulled the dry skin off and watching blood begin to surface. With one more pull from my nails, the blood oozed out.
“You know, that really doesn’t help improve your cuticles. You should moisturize them with cuticle creams and oils.” I jerked my gaze up and saw a girl walking through the door. She was a few years older than I was and wore about three pounds of makeup.
Her skin was bronze and her hair a rich brown color with a blue ombre effect, she wore it straight with a braid going across the top of her head looking like a headband. Her eyeshadow was a dark black, and she covered her eyes with false lashes. She wore a jean jacket over a loose tank-top and black skinny jeans.
“Looks like Cleo isn’t here yet,” the girl took a seat one over from my own. She crossed one leg over the other and I noticed she was wearing stilettos. Who would wear stilettos to a therapy session?
“I’m Avery,” she said placing her oversized purse on her lap and began digging through it for something. “You must be the new girl.”
I stared at her, and gave a small uninterested nod. Then I went back to picking at my cuticles.
“Here,” she flung a small bottle at me. “Cuticle cream. You can keep it, I have a shit ton more at home. My mom is a nail tech.” She held up her nails for me to see, wiggling them a bit. She had them painted black with silver swirls and stripes going across.
Moving the cuticle cream bottle around in my hands, I read the ingredients on it. It had basically the same ingredients as any normal hand lotion. Just another way for makeup companies to rip off teenage girls.
“You know how to open it?” She made motions with her hands how to push open the lid on the bottle. “You want me to do it for you?”
Shaking my head I opened the bottle and began applying the cream to my hands before Avery could take the bottle form me. After rubbing it all in, I shut the bottle again and tucked it into my pocket.
“I didn’t catch your name, what is it?” she asked, popping the gum in her mouth.
Pursing my lips I looked away.
“You don’t talk do you?” She cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. “Cleo mentioned something about that. She said it was because you were a brat and sulking because you don’t get enough attention.”
Glaring at her through the corner of my eye, I turned away. Instantly all I could feel was distaste towards her and Cleo. What I wouldn’t give to walk right out of there.
Before I could though, more people came piling in. A man a little younger than my dad, a guy around my age, and a girl who looked a little younger than I was came in.
The two guys looked normal enough, but the girl looked sickly. She was pale and her eyes were sunken in, she was also thin.
As soon as they took their seats, before they could say anything to me, Cleo came charging in with someone following behind her.
Today Cleo was dressed in a flora printed muumuu with her hair pulled into a tight top knot. She excitedly clapped her hands telling everyone to take a seat, even though everyone was already sitting.
“Today we have two new people joining us!” The way she was talking it sounded like she had just won an Oscar and was giving her acceptance speech. “My nephew Wiley. All the way from upstate New York! And Odette!”
Everyone shifted uncomfortably. Then the man that was around my dad’s age spoke up. “Does this mean we still have to switch partners?”
Cleo cocked her head to the side and looked at him curiously. “It is two weeks into the semester… Yes, I think we will. Yes we will switch partners!”
A low sigh escaped everyone’s mouth. I had no idea what was going on so I went back to picking at the cuticles on my fingers.
“I’ll pair… Bria and Mason together.” The sickly looking girl and the guy about my age looked at each other timidly and gave a small smile. “Felix and Odette together.”
The man who had asked the question gave me a small smile, which I returned with a vacant stare. He looked away then suddenly feeling insecure and stared at Cleo waiting for her to finish her statement.
“And that leaves Wiley and Avery together.”
Avery raised her eyebrows in Wiley’s direction and he raised his back at her.
“So who’s ready to start the meeting?” Cleo asked sounding excited.
______
Dedicated to BrutallyBlunt for being a long time reader
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Falling Colors
Teen Fiction"The unfixable; the shattered; the torn; the broken. They all come here. It's my job to remake them, because once its broken there is no going back to the way it was. It must be remade." Six individuals. Six unique stories. Five exercises. One...
