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Time. I gave my mother time, hoping she’d come around—but it’s been two years, and she hasn’t. James might not either. And why am I always waiting around, hoping for people tocome around? Why can’t I be enough for someone to love on the spot, regardless of my mental health? Why can’t we accept people for who they are, instead of punishing them for all their shortcomings?
“Like I said, I don’t want to talk about your brother.”
“Fine.” Leo lifts his hips, slips his hand into his pocket, and pulls out a joint. “Then let’s get high instead.”
16
James
“How haveyou been since the shooting?”
I shrug and glance away. “Fine.”
My therapist slips off his glasses and sets them on his clipboard. “Watching a teenage boy die isn’t something you can easily forget. Have you had any trouble sleeping?”
“I always have trouble sleeping.”
“I can prescribe something to help with that.”
“No.” I stare out the window just over his shoulder. “The boy shouldn’t have died that night. I should’ve diffused the situation.”
“Didn’t you try to?”
“Yes, but I should’ve tried something different. Said something different.”
“Or, could it be that the boy’s choice to bring a gun to the skate park, and his choice to pull the trigger are the reasons for what happened that night? Could it be that you had nothing to do with the outcome?”
“It was a series of unfortunate events, but I could’ve done something to stop it.”
“Hmm.” He scribbles something into his notepad. “How has life been outside of work? Your brother is back home, sober, you said. How has that been?”
My knee bounces. “It’s been nice having him back. But I don’t know how long this will last.”
Dr. Parker tilts his head. “It’s difficult when it comes to addiction. But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the present while it’s here. There’s no way to tell what the future will bring.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “You’re not kidding.”
His eyes narrow. “What’s going on with you? You’re more closed off than usual today.”
I scrub my hands over my face. “Long story short, I met a girl, but it turns out that she has depression and tried to kill herself two years ago.”
“She shared that with you?”
I nod. “I told her about what happened to my mother, and then she told me that she almost succeeded in doing the same thing.”
“That was brave of her. And how did you react to that?”
“Like a jackass.”
Dr. Parker smirks. “Meaning?”
“Meaning, I told her that I couldn’t be with someone like her because I didn’t want to lose her the same way I lost my mother.”
“Ah. I imagine that was scary to hear.” He writes in the notepad again. “What has her life been like since the incident?”
“Her family disowned her, and now she’s living on her own right next door to me. She said she goes to therapy, and she’s on medication.”
“Family is tough when it comes to suicide.”
