AllFreeNovel
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I chuckle. “Overall, it was good. I freaked, of course, but Olivia calmed me down and gave me like a pep talk. It was fun, actually. I got to catch up with an old friend of mine, too. Plus, I told my siblings.” That last sentence hangs in the air between us.
“It couldn’t have been too bad considering the world didn’t burst into flames,” she replies with a small smile.
“You have a point. I feel better now that they know, but at some point, I need to work on being able to talk about the hard things.”
“What do you mean?”
“My parents. My siblings are ready to start talking about them, and I told them I needed more time. Old habits are hard to break, is what I said.”
“What makes it so hard?”
God, she’s pulling out the big guns today, and we haven’t even begun to talk about what I really want to talk about yet. “I don’t know.” Her eyes harden. I run my hands down my thighs.
“When shit gets hard, I’d rather run than talk about it. Besides, when I do talk, it turns out I shouldn’t have and it blows up in my face.” Last night is a prime example.
“You’re right. You got into the habit of running instead of talking. We can work on that, so one day you can talk openly with your siblings about your parents and football and depression. Don’t get discouraged because you are unable to do that right this second, okay?” I nod. “Now, what do you mean when you talk it blows up in your face? Has something happened?”
Reluctantly, I nod again. “I’ve messed up with Olivia.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“Um, well, it started with my football. I—”
“Wait a second. Your football?” Ms. Cynthia asks, utterly confused.
“Oh. Yeah. Olivia showed up at my door with one a few weeks ago. She wanted me to throw it with her and I slammed the door in her face. She placed it on my end table next to the couch, and it’s been there ever since. Sometimes, I’ll toss it up in the air to clear my head like I used to, but other times, I end up throwing it across the room. That’s what I did Wednesday. She wasn’t supposed to come home until yesterday, but she came home early.
“I almost hit her with the football because I threw it. I was pissed because I hit a low again and I couldn’t tell if it was because Olivia was gone or if it was just time again. Anyway, she didn’t say why she was home early. We went to bed at six thirty instead.”
Ms. Cynthia tilts her head. “You’ve been depressed this week? Why didn’t you say that to start with?”
“You asked about my siblings and now we’re talking about Olivia. I can handle depression better than I can handle losing Olivia, so we have to fix this first.” When she nods, I continue. “Anyway, yesterday, I come home and the guy she knew from high school, Aaron, is at my door. He thought my apartment was hers. I ended up telling him which was hers.” I go on to explain the rest of what happened.
“I panicked and said all of those things when I shouldn’t have. At this point, I don’t even care if that is why we’re together. Based on her reaction, it probably isn’t why. I just need things to be better with her. She deserves more than me and all the shit I do, but I can’t lose her. I won’t be able to survive that.”
Ms. Cynthia is quiet for a moment. “She’s forgiven you before. What makes you think she won’t this time? By the way it sounds, she needs you as much as you need her.”
“Because she turned me down for tonight.”
“Give her some space and more time.” She pauses. “How do you feel about Olivia?”
“What?” Her question has thrown me for a loop. What is she talking about? “I just told you.”
She shakes her head. “No, you said you need her. You didn’t say how you feel about her.”
I gulp. “Shouldn’t this be something I say to Olivia first?”
“That right there is exactly what Olivia is talking about. You said she told you that you never talk when you need to, and here’s an example. If you can’t tell me, with our conversations being completely confidential, then how do you expect to tell her? I know it’s a little different, so don’t throw that excuse at me.
“This girl is the one you need, the one you can talk to, for the most part, and the one you’re about to have a panic attack over the possibility of losing, yet you can’t tell me how you feel about her? Think of it this way. Is this something you want to willingly tell her, or is she going to have to push and prod until you admit it? Which way do you want to tell her?”
My sweaty hands run over the top of my jeans. “So I should tell her how I feel?”
“That’s up to you, Corey. All I’m saying is if you know how you feel, maybe you should think about letting her know.”
Right. But I don’t want to say it because I want her to forgive me, either. “I love her,” I blurt out.
Ms. Cynthia smiles. “I know.” Of course she does.
