Gray scratches the skin inside his ankle boot and thinks. “Skeptic.”
I nod.Skeptictracks. Gray catches me nodding and rolls his eyes. It’s a defensive move. I should know—I have plenty of those moves myself. I also know that one of the best ways to scare a defensive person is by making direct eye contact, which I do, not backing down. But the tactic backfires. Gray not only holds his ground but even tilts his head at me. Not out of defiance. Out of curiosity. Like he’s just noticed something about me. But what? That one ear is smaller than the other (which it is)? That I can be a big coward hiding behind a sketchbook to avoid the real world?
That I’m secretly as hopeful for this therapy session as I am scared of it?
It’s been a while since anyone looked at me for so long. I can’t take it. Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes and look away.
Ms. Waters speaks up, saving me from the moment. “And you, Isabel? What’s your word?”
“Detective,” I say.
In my periphery I can see that Gray is nodding, no doubt making fun of my earlier reaction to his word choice.
My choice of word suddenly feels exposing and obvious. I should’ve said something noncommittal, like “Undecided.”
“Thank you, all. We’ll come back to these words later. For now, we’ll move on to some activities.”
She takes out ziplock bags filled with marshmallows and pretzel sticks. “Some genius at the office said you guys were thirteen instead of seventeen, so this first activity will feel a little stupid. But I think it’ll still work.” She looks at Preethi. “Can you please hand these out?”
Preethi leaps eager-beaver from her chair.
“Nice!” Joey says. “Snack time!” Before Ms. Waters can stop him, he stuffs two of the biggest marshmallows into his mouth.
Ms. Waters sighs. “These are not for eating. Not yet, anyway. First I want you to make three little people out of what you have.”
I have a sinking feeling I know where she’s going with this.
We all spend the next few minutes building our “people.” I use all my sculpture class skills—marshmallows are pretty malleable if you wet them.
I haven’t done this kind of thing since kindergarten. I’m kind of surprised how fun it is. How nostalgic it makes me feel. I used to be so innocent. So unjaded. I have a sudden flashback to my first sketchbooks from when I was four or five. I drew so many pictures of me and Mom and Dad. I was always in the middle, holding each of their hands. They were always looking at each other with heart eyes.
I look up to find Gray watching me. I brace myself for some snide comment. “Yours looks really good,” he says. The compliment makes me smile wider than it should.
His eyes linger on my face before he holds his up for me to see. “Mine look like bootleg molecules from chem class.”
“They’re not that bad,” I say.
“You’re just being nice.” Then he quickly smiles, just once.
“Are hand wipes available?” Lilliam asks, holding up her hands like she touched something radioactive.
I have to snort at that. So does Gray. We share a look. I decide to pause my promise to never look at him, because I’m getting the feeling he’s as observant as I am, that he likes to poke fun at the world as much as I do.
Preethi’s “people” look weirdly like those illustrations of viruses you see in biology textbooks.
Joey has turned his marshmallows so that their tops are flat. He’s stuck a bunch of pretzel sticks into the bottoms. They look like many-legged stools.
Ms. Waters pulls a miniature movie clapboard from her bag. “You’re each going to reenact, to the best of your memory, what it was like when your parents first told you about the divorce.”
Preethi doesn’t wait to be asked. She immediately goes into overdrive, shaking each of her viruses violently as she talks. “Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad. Hey, Preethi. We have something to tell you. I’m gay. I like women. Dad’s cool with it. Is he? Yes, I am, honey. Are you guys still my parents? Of course we are. We’ll still be together, just living our lives on our own terms like roommate besties. Okay? Okay! Everything’s great! Nothing’s really different! Yay!”
We stare at her open-mouthed. Even Ms. Waters is at a loss for words.
“You’re kind of crazy,” Joey says, but in an admiring way.
“We don’t use that kind of language in here, Joey,” Ms. Waters says. Which is kind of funny given that she was cursing up a small storm when she first walked in.
Ms. Waters looks back at Preethi. “How did you feel when they told you?”
