To Be

Chapter Fourteen

"I'm impressed." Dr. Lewis gives me her fake, lopsided smile, her eyes bright behind the lenses of her glasses.

"Why?" I wonder, tapping 5 bitten down fingernails against my knee.

"You're mother called me this morning and told me just how responsible you were by letting her know that you needed a refill on your medication. And I'm impressed by that."

"Ok," I say, tapping my fingers faster. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

Dr. Lewis eyes me, her deep brown irises not so bright anymore. I stop tapping.

"Can I see your hands, Shelby?"

I gulp, the slimy frog in my throat refusing to go down. "Why?" I manage to ask.

"I haven't checked them in a while, that's why..." She eyes me, causing me to squirm.

My now sweaty palms rub against the scratchy fabric of my jeans. "I'm not harming myself if that's what you want to know."

She continues to stare at me, her gaze calculating. "Then why aren't you showing me your hands?"

Sighing, I shove my hands right in front of her face, palms up. "See there's nothing there to hide." Except for the rate of my heartbeat that's picking up second by second.

Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic.

She can't see, can she?

Dr. Lewis is examining my palms closely and my heart rate quickens even some more. I wait for her to bob her head up and down in a nod before pulling my hands back, and resting them on my lap. Now my 10-bitten-down nails begin to tap anxiously, as she taps away on her iPad with long-tipped nails. Tap-tap-tap.

"Why are you so antsy today, Shelby?" Dr. Lewis questions, glancing up from her iPad.

I shrug. "Excited for lunch, I guess. It's pasta today."

She smiles. "Ah, pasta. Now you're making me hungry."

All I do is stare at her. She looks back down at her iPad and continues to type and I'm so curious to see what she's writing.

At last, she says, "I'm going to be cutting this session a little short today. You may go. I'll see you on Monday." Her eyes hold me in place. "Remember to take your pills."