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Fourteen

One year later...

I watched out the large glass doors of the building, waiting for my dad's usual black car to pull out front. Switching my phone back on, the time read 3:45 pm, about fifteen minutes had passed by now since I was let out of my session. Folding up the letter I had just written, I shoved it in my jeans pocket, waiting to burn it later.

The sun shone through the thick white clouds in the sky, beginning to move away as the blue skies were revealed.

"Amanda?" a familiar woman's voice spoke behind me, further into the waiting area. Turning around, I saw a girl around my age maybe stand up, a small smile of greeting spread onto her face, as she followed the woman in her late thirties with her dark hair in a sleek ponytail. "It's good to see you again. Right this way," she said, leading the girl down the hall, away from the reception desk and waiting area. Towards her office, the very one I had just left.

Turning back to face forward, the streets still remained empty, only a few cars parked further down the road. My dad was usually late picking me up from counselling, for some reason he wasn't great with time. At first, when I first started to go, my mom and him always picked me up, they were right on time. But as the months went on, he began to become more slack, as if not worrying if he was running a few minutes late. But he was never more than ten minutes. And our house was a bit further away.

Sometimes Cody picked me up, and we'd go out and do something afterwards. Like grab some food or head to the mall or something. He was a real spender sometimes, it drove our parents nuts. I on the other hand, I was more into saving, only buying something that I actually needed. Cody and I actually got along real well now, although we did get on each other's nerves sometimes, he could be a real pain, but so could I. I really liked to bug him about his taste in TV shows or movies sometimes, that seemed to always rattle him up in a way. Having a full on debate about something, him trying to convince me, and me just not buying it. It was a good time.

A horn caught me off guard out the door for a moment, as I shot a look outside. Dad's black Civic was parked just out the doors, close by the sidewalk to the building. I didn't waste any time. Pushing my phone back into my pocket, I stuffed my hands into my hoodie, stepping out in the slight wind that rushed towards me. Taking a few steps, I hopped into the car in no time, the air conditioning running a bit.

"Hey bud," Dad said the moment I got in, half turned towards me, and the front of the car.

"Hey," I greeted, smiling towards him, buckling my seatbelt in the process. The car slowly began to pull away, heading back up the main street, turning onto the next left.

  "So? How was it today?" he asked, every few moments looking back at me, making complete eye contact with a type of relaxed smile on his face.

  "It was pretty alright. The same as every time I go," I said, flashing him one of those relaxed smiles as well, before looking out my window. Music cut in between us as we died down, the radio on low, playing the songs my parents grew up with on the station 97. The air conditioning made up for the silence as well, the minutes passing by as we headed away from the main parts of town, away from the busier side, back to our house. Reminding me all over again of the day Dad picked me up from the phone booth, driving back into the city, back to my home. All the memories filling my head at once, seeing everything again for the first time.

  "You know Alex, your mother and I have noticed recently that you seem to be doing a lot better," my dad said after a few moments, causing me to turn back to him, and our eyes connected again, and he kept on smiling at me. "You've been talking to us more, sharing more things with us. You don't hide everything anymore, you don't keep locking everything inside. That's great, really son."