Undercover Therapy

Robbie

"That is your job."

Well, it is true. It is her job. She's a therapist and she's paid to somewhat help me, her client, with my mental problems and all that crap. If she didn't help me, she'd wouldn't get paid.

"So, Jen, you'll have to sign some papers here..." the therapist started talking about some business with my mom. As they were doing so, I decided to go back and check my iPhone. For some reason, I have a shitload of social media apps. Like Snapchat, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, and even Tumblr. I'm not even a hipster, but I use fucking Tumblr. I'm like a social media addict. I don't even have that much friends or followers in any of the apps. I just look at memes. I'm one of those people.

I looked at the two adults doing papers and all of that kind of stuff. I don't even know what the hell they're doing. I don't even care what they do. Buzz Bzz Bzzzzzz... I felt my phone vibrate in my hands. What is this? Some adult toy? I looked at my phone and see a text:

Carol: Did you do the homework for math? Its due tomorrow lol

Damn. I thought I would get some peace for today. I'm in a shitty, gray, and geometric therapy center and I now get a text from a dumb classmate? Wow. So I text back:

Me: No.

Carol: Lol me too

Carol: :P

Carol: So wyd

Me: About to go somewhere, bye :/

Carol: K bye

Honestly, I lied to him. First, you're probably thinking: "Carol is a guy's name?" Apparently, yes, some idiot decides to name their son a white mother's name. Who even comes up with the names? Like Karen? Carol? Fucking Georgeanna? Is there just a white person generator making up all the names? Anyway, I hate giving out my homework away. He was probably going to ask for my homework then copy it so he can get an easy A for math. I hate being used for someone's benefits.

"Honey." I heard my mom say. She pinches my arm subtly to grab my attention.

"Yes mother?" I reply in sarcasm, looking at her, annoyed. She stood up from her chair and looked at me straight in the eye.

"I'm going to leave you two while I wait..." She stared at the ceiling and looked around to avoid eye contact with me, "It's obviously a personal thing between you two."

"Actually, you can stay-"

"Oh no it's fine, I'll just get some Starbucks and... I love you Robbie!" After interrupting the therapist, she walked out of the door.

"Wait, MOM WH-" By the time I stood up, she already left the building. I groaned and slouched on my chair. God dammit. I don't want this shit. I don't even know this person. What if this whole thing is a scam? What if it doesn't help? This building is so sketchy, I swear to God.

"So... For real, how's your day?" the therapist looked at me. She stared right into my soul. I don't like her at all. Yea, she looks nice, but she's like that one mom trying to be "hip" for their child. It's really awkward.

"It's great." I lied. It's not great at all. This stupid therapy is a pile of shit. It's been ten minutes but I can't handle it already. Bzzzz bzzzzz bzzzz. Oh great, another damn text.

"So, what brings you here?" she asks. God fucking dammit, she's going to ask a shitload of questions that I have to answer.

"Well, I was forced to come here by my mom because she said it's apparently good for me." I stared at my feet. I wonder how long this will take.

"Oh, that's nice." I look at Jane and see her write some stuff down on a piece of paper.  Ugh. Ughhhhhhhhh. Kill me. This is going to take more than an hour, I swear. I look at my phone and checked the notifications:

Mom: Be nice to the therapist <3 Also, want anything from Starbucks?

Be nice to her? Be nice to her? Guess I will.

"Are there any problems that you have? Like people for instance?"

"Nah, I'm a really chill person." I smirk and wink at her.

"Oh...?" She looked at me.

This could work.

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