In the End

36 ~ See

This is a mistake.

Sitting rigid on the tan couch, I play with the bracelet around my wrist. If there was ever a time to fly away, now would be it.

"How are you today, Jovie?" A woman asks.

"Fine." I say quickly.

"What brings you to my office?" She asks. Part of me tries to remember her name. It's the polite thing to do. Too bad I don't feel like being polite right now.

"Couldn't tell ya." I shrug, fixating my gaze on anything but her.

"I see." She purses her lips and studies me. I'm happy someone does. I don't want to see anything. I don't want to see the degrees and certificates decorating her wall. I don't want to skim the titles of perfectly unused books decorating her shelfs. I don't want to notice the details about this woman.

I don't want to see because I don't want to be here. I don't want to remember being here. Most importantly, I don't want to remember how accepting she appears to be.

My skin crawls under her gaze and I shift uncomfortably. "I'm only here because my mom paid for the session. I'm not going to share much." I already feel bad for wasting the money. "Let's save us both the hassle of trying to force something that isn't gonna happen."

A laugh catches my attention and I glance up to find her eyes, old with age and knowing, glimmering as she puts her notepad down. "Talking to you isn't a hassle."

I snort. "Nice try."

"I enjoy a good conversation." She smiles. "We can talk about anything. You pick."

A small part of me wants to talk about anything. There's so many possibilities for me to discuss. Aspen. Beau. My mom. My dad. Myself. My brothers. Peyton. College. Just when I think I'm about to spill my guts, I clamp down on my tongue.

Not so fast.

"I see."

"No, you don't." I snap, growing annoyed with that phrase. No one sees anything. No one saw how my dad treated us. No one saw the weeks where we barely ate when mom was officially on her own. No one saw what was happening with Aspen and me. No one saw the downward spiral I sent myself on.

No one saw me hit rock bottom until I asked for the life raft.

"Excuse me?"

"I think we're done now." I stand up, forcing my little legs to carry me as fast as possible.

Running outside, I collide with a group of pedestrians as I attempt to gather myself. I feel so... violated. So disgusted. So annoyed. I don't even know what emotion to dress first, which is ironic since therapists are supposed to help with that.

A few more people bump into me, people too preoccupied with their busy, Atlanta life to notice a teenage girl on the verge of flipping her shit. Maybe that plays to my advantage. I'm not supposed to be picked up for another fifty minutes. Maybe a walk to clear my head is exactly what I need.

"Well, that didn't take long." A voice startles me from my thoughts and I turn to find Uncle Ricardo leaned against the building, smoking a cigarette.

"I didn't know you'd wait." I explain tightly.

"I didn't expect you to interrupt my mid-morning smoke but here we are." He grunts, stomping it out. "Was she bad?"

"No."

"Did you need some air?"

"No." I glance at the ground.