AllFreeNovel
Share Us
SETH
Idon’tknowwhy I’m doing this, I think while I run down the sidewalk, dodging slowpokes who insist on making me even later than I already am. I don’t even know how Lucas, Hunter, and Alex were able to talk me into this. Well, this is mostly Hunter’s fault. He’s the one who gave me the card. Once Lucas found out, he wouldn’t stop pestering me about it.
So here I am, running to my first appointment with Dr. Forrester. Absolutely late. What a wonderful first impression I’ll make. Thankfully, it’s a lovely spring day. May is already here. I don’t know how it came so fast. After this, I’ll have to help the Lucas, Alex, and Rachel set up for Hunter’s graduation party. Rachel has been on and off crying for the past month. I don’t really know what to say to her. Hunter has wanted to be in the NFL since I met him. And I know she doesn’t want to prevent him from doing his dream job.
Still, it definitely sucks.
Just like going to this appointment.
My step slows as I see the small office coming into view. I wonder if there’s still time to cancel. I look at my watch and sigh. I’m three minutes late. That’s already rude enough. If I’m a no show, Hunter will never let me live it down. He’s definitely talked this lady up for the past couple months. Sure, she’s probably amazing for him. I’m not so sure therapy is for me.
I’m doing great now. I’ve put on a little weight. Rachel even through away the scale. Although, I still weigh myself everyday at the gym. And whenever I have a few slices of pizza, I make sure to run for about an hour, if not two. But I’m eating. That’s good, right? Sure, I’m still the same obsessive, competitive asshole everyone knows and loves, but that doesn’t mean I need therapy.
I’m absolutely fine. I’m only doing this to get everyone off my back.
With a deep breath, I step inside the white building and walk straight up to the receptionist, ignoring the need to jet out of the place and never look back. It will be fine, I tell myself. She’s probably going to ask about my parents or something. And then she will say something to the effect of, And how did that make you feel? I chuckle to myself and shake my head. This is seriously stupid. I don’t need therapy.
“Hello,” the receptionist says brightly. “Do you have an appointment?”
“Yeah, I’m Seth Garcia,” I say, flashing my most charming smile, wondering if I’m already being judged as a crazy person by entering this place. “I had an appointment at two, but I’m a bit late.”
“Oh, she’s already waiting inside,” says the receptionist while quickly standing and ushering me toward the door off to the side. She knocks on the door and opens it. “Dr. Forrester, your 2:00 is here.”
Dr. Forrester sets down the notebook in her hands and rises while the receptionist motions for me to enter. The door clicks as soon as I’m inside and I can’t stop myself from looking around at the comfy sofa resting across from the desk and all the shelves filled with books on mental health, self-care, and yoga.
Ugh. This is going to be so boring. I don’t need therapy. I straighten myself and force a smile as I step toward Dr. Forrester. She’s about Hunter’s dad’s age with grey hair and spectacles. She’s dressed in a suit, which is strange. I usually imagine therapists to be dressed in hippy dresses or yoga pants. She looks all business.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Seth,” says Dr. Forrester.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say sheepishly, my face heating as she continues to stare at me. Is she analyzing me now? Should I be acting in a certain way so she doesn’t think I’m crazy? I clench my jaw, stopping myself from rolling my eyes at myself. I’m not crazy. I’m just a little obsessive. There’s nothing wrong with that.
Well, not all the time anyway.
“Would you like to take a seat?” she asks while gesturing to the sofa.
I nod, quickly plopping myself on the edge of the large dark cushions while watching her lean against her desk. “So,” she starts, “what brings you in today?”
“My friends,” I say with a chuckle. “They kinda forced me to come in today.”
“Oh?” she asks, her eyebrows rising in interest. “Why did they do that?”
I wrinkle my nose, not knowing how to begin. “They have been a little worried about me. The beginning of the year didn’t really start off well.”
Dr. Forrester tilts her head. I’m waiting for her to grab her notebook, to write something down, but she’s still watching me, her hands remaining on the desk. “How so? Did something happen?”
I purse my lips. How do I tell her what happened without coming off crazy? Yeah, I lost quite a bit of weight and yeah, I trained too hard, but now I’m fine. I’m eating with my friends and I have a bit more energy than I used to. Things are fine. Better than fine. They are perfect.
“Well, I nearly lost my scholarship,” I start, knowing a little backstory will help her see my case. She’ll understand. She’ll see I’m fine and all this is normal. “I injured myself last year in Paris during a marathon which made it so I couldn’t run last semester.”
“Oh, how did that happen?” Dr. Forrester asks, her voice laced with concern.
“It’s fine now,” I rush out. “But I guess it worried everyone. I over trained and cracked my heel. I could barely walk, let alone run. I had to stay off it for a while, but now I’m back to running.”
Dr. Forrester’s brows push together as she stares at me and I feel my fingers twitching with worry. She’s going to think I’m crazy. But I’m not crazy. I’m normal. Athletes train and get injured all the time.
But they don’t train like you,a dark voice whispers in the back of my head.
“You say that you over trained. Why? Didn’t your coach give you exercises to do so that wouldn’t happen?”
