"So, can you tell me why you are here?"
Arin shook his head, looking to the ground, lips pursed in a thin line.
The lady tapped her clip board with her nails, scanning the papers and flipping them randomly. "Right, you're the mute kid."
Arin didn't respond. Even if he could, he wouldn't. He really didn't like this woman, even though he had only seen her for about two minutes.
"How are you?" The lady crossed her legs and looked impatient, probably because Arin had yet to make eye contact with her.
Arin wanted to sign, fan-fucking-tastic, after all that's why I'm in therapy, but he didn't. He didn't know if she knew sign language or not so he signed a simple, good. A hand on his lips brought forwards on his other hand.
"How has school been?"
Arin repeats the motion from before, good.
"Okay." Her voice was filled with disbelief and Arin hated it. He was sorta-actually telling the truth. School wasn't bad, it wasn't exactly good either. He just went and then went home, nothing special happens.
Arin chanced a look at her in her perfect looking-weird green pencil skirt and blouse, her name tag reading Miley Caruba being the only thing decorating her.
Arin quickly looked back to the floor.
"Have you made any friends?" Her dumb pencil scratched against her stupid clip board.
Arin shook his head. No one wanted to be friends with the mute kid.
"How are your grades?"
Arin didn't answer. He hasn't been caring about his grades or doing homework so they were probably bad.
"You know I'm here to help you."
Arin of course knew this, she was the therapist and Arin was the patient. Arin just didn't want help.
"Where have you been sleeping?"
My house ,Arin quickly signed.
"By yourself?" Her pencil scratching seemed to be ten times louder.
Arin nodded.
"Really?"
Arin didn't want to talk anymore. The therapist didn't say anything, just watched him slip out.
