Being Wrong | ✓

Part 21

Two weeks later they sat in the small waiting room at the office of Charlie's new psychiatrist. As soon as they had sat down on the too-hard sofa, Charlie had wrapped one of Travis' arms around his shoulders and cuddled in. His grandparents, who had claimed the other sofa, pretended not to notice as they sorted through the magazines on the coffee table.

Charlie was more unsure about this whole psychiatrist thing than ever. His grandma had made it clear she didn't like the idea, and while Charlie was fairly sure he understood why her pessimism was still eating away at his confidence.

And what if there weren't any answers or solutions? What if he was just too sensitive or not trying hard enough? He understood his grandma's fear because he felt it too. She wasn't the only one who, deep down, worried that everything might actually be their own fault.

Charlie didn't even notice that someone else had entered the room until Travis pulled him to his feet.

The man was grey haired and a bit too neatly put together to look friendly. If that was a thing that even made any sense.

"Hi, I'm Dr Chapman," the man said, a smile fixed on his face as he looked between Travis and Charlie. "Which one of you is Charlie?"

Charlie just stared. Dr Chapman's teeth were very straight and very white, and just slightly too big.

"Uh, this is Charlie," Travis said after the awkward silence stretched on long enough that he realised Charlie wasn't going to respond.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Charlie." He held out his hand, then dropped it again when Charlie didn't accept it and turned to Travis. "And...?"

"Travis. I'm his..." Travis hesitated, looking to Charlie for direction.

Charlie took Travis' hand in his and squeezed it.

"Boyfriend," Travis finished. "He's a bit nervous about all of this."

"That's completely normal, but I'm sure we'll all be good friends soon."

As Dr Chapman went to introduce himself to Charlie's grandparents, Charlie leant in against Travis' side. Maybe this had been a bad idea. He didn't feel right about this. He was pretty sure that deep down he'd believed psychiatrists had a kind of magic that made them specially attuned to people. That they knew how to always do and say exactly the right thing. But this was just... a person. People and Charlie didn't generally mix well.

Dr Chapman led them through into his office, then spent a minute scavenging up another chair because there weren't enough for all of them. Charlie wanted to sit on the far end, but he ended up between his grandma and Travis. He still hadn't let go of Travis' hand.

"Now, I've read through that letter you sent me about Charlie's history," Dr Chapman said as he folded his hands on the desk in front of him. "It sounds like you've been through quite a bit, Charlie."

There was a letter? Charlie hadn't known about that. What had they told him? Dr Chapman was looking at him. Probably about his mum, and his dad... about all the things they knew about. Dr Chapman was still looking at him. Watching him. Charlie didn't like it.

Eventually, Dr Chapman turned his attention towards Charlie's grandparents. "Was there something in particular you wanted to talk about?"

"Well, not really," Charlie's grandma said. "I mean, it was the boys who wanted to do this, but now that we're here Charlie's being difficult again."

"It's just the proper thing to do, isn't it?" Charlie's grandpa added. "Get him checked out and all after everything that's happened."

"Yes, absolutely," Dr Chapman said.