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"This ain't what I meant when I said I wanted to drown in it," he said, watching me drizzle hot sauce on his burrito.
"Shut up," I laughed. "You'll like it, though. I promise," I said, passing it over to him.
"I better....and if I end up on the toilet after this, ima hurt you," he said, putting it up to his mouth.
"Let me know how it tastes," I said.
He closed his eyes for a split second, before taking a bite. I watched him intently, waiting for a response as he chewed it with a blank expression on his face.
"So?" I asked, taking another bite of my own burrito.
"Eh. It's ight," he shrugged.
"Alright?! No, it's better than that...This sauce makes anything taste good," I said. "I used to come this food truck when it was in New York. Me and my brother would literally put this on everything."
"It's cool....just a little too spicy for me," he shrugged, continuing to eat it.
"Those baby ass taste buds," I chuckled.
"Shut the hell up," he smirked.
We saw a Burria Taco food truck out here while we were leaving the mall a little while ago and Chris said he'd never had it, so we came and got some. I used to get food from here while growing up and it was one of my favorite places to get tacos. It was rare to even see food trucks in New York, so I always got excited to see one whenever I did.
"So, how was your session yesterday?" I asked, referring to his counseling session.
"It was alright....we're still just talking about my feelings and some random stuff about my past," he said.
"Do you think it's helpful at all?" I asked.
"Yeah. I kinda like talking about what I'm feeling instead of bottling it up all the time. It's like a weight lifted from my shoulders," he said, making me smile.
"That's good to hear. I'm really glad you enjoy going," I said.
"Yeah, she told me I could bring someone to one of the next sessions. She says it should be someone I'm comfortable with. Somebody I wouldn't mind expressing things with and I want you to come," he said.
"Hm...well not that I wouldn't want to, but wouldn't you rather have your mom or brother come with you before me?" I asked him.
"Nah. It's just a little harder with them. I feel more comfortable expressing myself to you than I did when we first met."
"Yeah, me too," I said. "I'll come with you."
He has these sessions like once a week, but sometimes he doesn't go. That's usually when he's feeling happy or in a good mood. I had to explain to him that
