I unglue my ass from the seat and approach the overweight, middle-aged woman in scrubs. She flashes a sympathetic smile. I fuckinghateit.
“How are you?” She asks, engrossed in her clipboard as we walk down a hall lined with numbered doors.
“Peachy.”
She finally looks up from her paperwork to usher me into room seven. “Any birthday plans?”
“This.”
She lets out an awkward laugh. I make her uncomfortable. I makeeveryoneuncomfortable. They don’t know how to act around people like me— the really fucked up ones. I’m as alien to her as an extraterrestrial.
“We just have to run through a few questions, then Dr. Bedi will be with you shortly.”
The wax paper crinkles as I plop onto the exam chair. “Let’s get this over with.”
I’ll give it to her— she’s efficient. After collecting my vitals and confirming basic health stuff, she exits. I shove my thumb between my teeth and resume chewing my cuticle off while checking my phone.
Andrea:
If you thought I wouldn’t remember your Gemini ass’s birthday, you have a smooth brain.
My lips twitch. Only Andrea could coax anything close to asmile out of me right now. Between cheerleading and her controlling cult leader dad, I've barely seen her in months. Her absence has affected me more than I expected. I miss her laugh. Her sass. The way she justgetsme. Though, I suspect there's more to her distance. I pushed too hard, too soon.
But she's not the only one avoiding me.
I clutch my phone in a death grip.
It was supposed to be the other way around— Sebastian twisted into knots, conflicted between his beliefs and me. But here I am, unable to let it go. It took weeks for the bites and bruises to fade and when they did, I debated inflicting them again on myself somehow. They were physical reminders that I didn't imagine it. That his words were real.
You made it all up,she whispers.
A lump lodges in the back of my throat.I didn’t.
This is how it starts.
“No,” I hiss out loud. Grinding my teeth, I scroll through my texts until I find his name. My hands shake. If I ask him and it never happened, he’ll think I’m insane. If I ask him and itdidhappen, he’ll think I’m insane. It’s a lose-lose. Then again, I'm confident healreadythinks I'm insane.
I drop the phone and massage the bridge of my nose. “Fuck.”
He hasn’t wished me happy birthday. Didn’t acknowledge me at his graduation. Has been out of the house as much as possible. Stayed out all night last weekend. I know I need to get used to him being gone, especially after finding his FMU acceptance letter, but I don't know how to stop caring.
That’s what happens when you give in, Cade. Evil intentions don't beget good results.
I’m so fucking tired of her voice. It's killing me.
Two knocks and the door swings in. A petite South Asian woman enters. Unlike the nurse, her smile is warm. I almost drop my guard. Almost.
“Hello Cade, I’m Dr. Bedi,” she says, sitting in the chair beside me— the one intended for family members. Crossing herlegs, she rests my file on her lap face down, her dark eyes trained on me. Unafraid. Curious. Sincere.
I chew the dead skin on my bottom lip and wait.
“I’ve read your background and have been briefed by your father about your… hesitancy towards professional help. I want to be clear with you. This isn't punishment. My job is to find a treatment plan that works for you long term, but for me to do that, I need your cooperation. Is that fair?”
I pick dried blood from under my thumbnail.
“I guess.”
She continues studying me. It doesn’t feel like it has with other psychiatrists. I’m not just a nut-job for her to slap a diagnosis on. It’s like she’s trying to figure me out.
