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“You were telling me about Jeremy, and how you two bonded in your shared struggles.”
Nodding, I say, “Right. Yeah.”
Other memories poke at my awareness.
Calling Jeremy after Dad showed up again out of the blue when I was twelve, dropping off Phoebe on our doorstep, and driving off without even saying hi to me. The way he talked me down from what apparently was a panic attack…
Because he knew. He’s always known.
Then it’s a crowded storage corridor in a hospital when we’re seventeen, and he’s telling me to hold my breath. Count to five.
“Feel the burn. Feel it all… And let it go.”
And then I’m nineteen, and I’m the one in the hospital, after having just survived an overdose, and once again Jeremy’s there, teaching me how to breathe all over again.
My eyes grow hot, my throat thickening with emotion. “He’s always been there,” I somehow manage to say, my voice restrained.
Cleo considers me for a long moment. “We’ve talked about this in the past…your reliance on him, since losing Izzy.”
Reliance…
I suppose that’s a nicer way of saying codependent as fuck.
I nod, and sniff. Clearing my throat, I refocus on Cleo across from me. “Transference.”
The act of redirecting feelings toward one person onto someone else. We’ve discussed this before.
“Yes. Except…” There’s something to her tone…
And I can practically see the wheels turning in her head.
Her brows knit as she slouches a bit in her chair, and tilts her head to the side, considering me. “I was under the impression you two only became as close as you are now after losing Izzy.”
I frown. Did she really think that?
Mentally, I run through past sessions, going back to my first time here at New Horizons. I talked about Jeremy. I know I did. But…
“Girlfriend’s brother.”
That’s what he got reduced to. Not by me, but by Cleo. By Dr. Simmons. By the outpatient therapist I was seeing.
And I corrected them. I did. I’d tell them he’s not just that, he’s my friend.
Did they just assume we only became good friends after Izzy?
“You’ve never told me any of this until now.”
I blink. Oh.
“We’ve been friends since we were kids,” I tell her. “Best friends. Waylon and Izzy…they were my best friends too, but they were always really close, especially before Izzy and I started dating—like really dating, and not just kids calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend.”
I rub my thumbs roughly over my knuckles. I’d never admitted any of this out loud before. “It wasn’t like I was jealous or worried or anything. It was always platonic between those two. I guess I just…I wanted to be cool enough to be their friends, so I’d…I kept certain parts of me hidden from them. Right from the start. I wanted them to like me.”
“And Jeremy?”
Shrugging, I say, “It was different. Separate.”
“Separate?” Cleo frowns. “What do you mean by that?”
