Out of Tune

Chapter Twenty-Four

Music expresses that which cannot be said, and on which it is impossible to be silent—Victor Hugo

As Lennon had predicted, things quieted down by the end of the week. It wasn't the day or two that she'd predicted, but on Friday morning there had been no crowd to meet her at her locker in the morning, no freshmen following her around to her classes, and only three people asked her about Jay Dawson so she had considered that a success.

"You're home late tonight, right?" Spencer asked at the end of the day as Lennon grabbed her things from her locker.

He'd met here, having arrived before the bell courtesy of his free period that he'd spent studying in the library. Like Lennon, Spencer had managed to avoid the swarming of eager classmates for most of the day. But unlike Lennon, he seemed just the teensiest bit put out about it.

"Yeah," Lennon replied as she shoved her physics book into her bag. "Your mom helped me set up an appointment with her therapist so I'm heading there now and then I've got a closing shift at Spin City. I should be home by eight-thirty or so."

Spencer shuffled his feet. "Well, what if I met you at Spin City at the end of your shift? We could stop by that new ice cream place that moved in a few doors down from the record store. I figure that it's been a bit of a crazy week – we both deserve a treat."

Lennon's heart thudded unevenly in her chest for about two beats before it resumed its normal pattern. She smiled at Spencer, trying to read his eyes and found that she couldn't. There was something reserved and quiet there, but she had no idea what he was thinking.

"Sure, that sounds great."

"Awesome. Then I'll meet you outside when your shift ends."

Lennon closed her locker and they turned together for the door. They walked together for a bit until they were forced to separate as Spencer navigated for home and Lennon turned towards downtown Los Altos. It was there, a few blocks away from Hillview Park, that she was meeting Anna's therapist.

The therapist was located on the second floor of a three-story building. It was a bright little space, with clean cream-coloured walls and tasteful floral canvas art. Lennon checked in with the reception and then took a seat to wait in one of the chairs.

After about five minutes, a middle-aged woman with peppering black hair and kind eyes came out to greet her. "Lennon McCormick?"

"That's me."

"I'm Jenna. Come on in." Lennon followed the woman, a bit surprised that she didn't go by her title – Dr. Riggs. The casualness comforted her a little bit. It felt less daunting.

Jenna led Lennon into a warmly lit room. The lighting was all soft, illuminating the room's contents which consisted of a loveseat, a beanbag chair, a worn leather armchair, shelving that housed books and little knickknacks, and a wooden desk. Across the shelves, Lennon noted that there were a variety of fidget toys.

"Take a seat wherever you feel most comfortable," Jenna said as she shut the door.

Lennon raised a brow at the beanbag chair. "Does anyone actually sit in that?"

"More often than you'd think. When my son decided that he no longer wanted to have it in his bedroom, I gave it a new home." As she spoke, Jenna moved towards the desk. There, she picked up a leather-bound journal and a blue pen.

Surveying her options, Lennon decided that the best option was the loveseat so she crossed the room to it and took a seat. It was near the window and she felt the sun streaming in to warm her face.