I Dont Do Too Well On My Own

The Eighteenth Chapter

"Im so sorry, she just isnt used to me not being in her palm." I mutter.

"So, kissing a Patrick Stump poster?" Patrick grins.

I try not to blush furiously, but I do. What do I say? "Ur- urm- I?"

"Nah, its cute. At least I know you dont hate me."

I ruffle my hair with my hand and shake my head. "No, I..."

"Lost for words over my beauty?" He chuckles.

I let out a breathy laugh, my face still burning.

"You better sort yourself out before we reach therapy. Wouldnt go down well you going in like this." He winks and I swear if I had no self control I would lose my shit.

I place my hand over my mouth before using my hands to smooth my hair and feel my face.

I can assure you my face is still here.

Patrick laughs and I look over at him.

"Cant believe she said that!" I say. "What a friend."

"You need new friends, people like... People like me!"

"That wont be hard. I only have one to replace and... Oh look! You took the spot!"

He shakes his head with a laugh before opening the door for me.

"Thanks."

We wait outside and I tie my hair up.

"What do you think is going to happen today?" I ask.

"Funny enough, I think Im about to watch you in therapy!"

"Funny enough, I think youre right! But honestly, does the shock continue today? Will the results be shocking?"

I slow down his reaction in my head. His head tilts back and his eyes squint. His mouth curls into a smile and he lets out a long laugh at my pathetic attempt at a joke. I smile along, he found it funny!

"Yes, the results may be shocking!" Patrick continues.

"Jesse?" Someone calls me.

I stand and give him my hand to help him to standing. He takes it and holds on for slightly longer than necessary. I dont mind, I was making out with his poster a while ago.

"So, because of this I need to see how you are drunk. So I can find the root of the problem." The therapist says, 15 minutes later.

"Drunk to what extent?" I ask.

"What ever you do normally."

"Yeah sure. Im fine with that. I like a good bit of getting drunk."

Patrick shuffles in his seat.

The therapist pulls out a bottle of vodka. She shouldnt have that there.

"A round of shots?" She asks.

I pour out 10 shots. That should get me drunk.

I look over at Patrick who is quietly observing. He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms.

"3... 2... 1!" I shout, trying to add comedy to the sad situation.

I lift the first glass and down it. The liquid burns down my throat and warms my stomach. I down the next three in the seconds after. Soon my mouth numbs and it becomes easier to drink without it burning as much. It still feels like I am vomiting each time I swallow another shot, but Im getting drunk so I cant complain. By the eighth shot I feel a little sick, but dont stop.

"You may want to lock the door. By the time this hits me Ill want to leave." I note before taking my last shot.

I look at the clock. Ten shots in just over a minute, good one.

"We have some time before it all kicks in."

I grimace at the taste left in my mouth.

We wait like it will hit me any moment, burst through the window. Honestly it will be gradual, unnoticed until Im seriously drunk.

"Do you think- do you think- fairies are real?" I laugh violently.

"I dont think so... I- oh wait." Patrick realises my state.

I stand up and stretch.

"You locked the door? But I wanna go outside?" I ask.

"Sorry." The therapist says.

She starts scribbling on her paper and I decide to sit down, but on Patrick, he is comfier. I wrap my arms around his neck and close my eyes. I let his body heat warm up my cold soul.

I swing my legs around and hum a bit. If I was twelve Id do this, but its too much fun not to do.

Im not quiet sure what happened after that, but Im sure it wasnt embarrassing for me...