Judged

Chapter 9

(The picture to the side is of Dylan O'Brien, who is my inspiration for Declan :) Isn't he a total babe!?)

Chapter Nine

I sit uncomfortably on the white suede couch, unconsciously pulling my sleeves down to cover my wrists. It's something I do when I'm nervous. I let out a sigh, taking in my surroundings.

In front of me there is a brown coffee table that looks like it has never been used. Beside the couch is another miniature coffee table with a box of Kleenex on it. I won't be needing those. Across from me, on the other side of the brown coffee table is a giant chair. It's black and looks like the type of chair lawyers or doctors use as office chairs. Despite its professional look, it's probably comfy.

Behind the white suede couch I'm seated on, at the other end of the office there is a big mahogany desk with a normal office chair behind it. On the desk sits a Mac computer, a phone, random sticky notes and miscellaneous folders.

Next to the door stands a giant bookcase that touches floor to ceiling. It's filled to the max with books. Directly beside the bookcase are several framed papers. Probably her degrees or whatever.

The walls are a baby blue color with white accents, and the curtains are a sheer blue. This lady had no doubt hired a professional decorator.

Just as I'm about to get up and leave, tired of waiting for this chick, the door creeps open behind me. I slump down in my seat.

"Hi!" The woman calls out cheerily. I don't say anything. She walks over to the big, expensive chair across from me. Her arms are filled to the brim with folders and papers, and she still somehow is managing to hold onto a coffee cup.

She sets the Dutch Bros. coffee cup on the brown coffee table in between us, and quickly rushes over to her desk to set down the things in her arms. She trotts back over to me, and sticks her hand out for me to shake.

"You must be Harper," she states while smiling.

"Yeah," I mutter, giving her a small smile.

As she makes her way over to her seat, I take the time to notice her appearance. She's wearing a pair of black kitten heels, fancy black slacks, and a lilac purple dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up just below her elbows. Her hair is a super dark brown, and she has it pinned up in one of those twisty buns. I assumed it was pretty long when it was down.

Her makeup is subtle. Just a light pink lipstick, mascara and a thin line of eyeliner on her top lid. Her eyes are a bright blue and there's no signs of wrinkles. I'd guess that she's in her early thirties.

She takes her seat, and I can't stop the question that escapes my lips.

"Is it comfy?" She looks a bit taken aback at first but recovers quickly.

"Really comfy," she says simply. I just nod and look down at my fingers. "I'm Dr. Cline, but you can call me Joanna, my first name, if you prefer."