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It’s time to put an end to this before it gets out of hand. This man, and yes, he’s all man, there’s nothing boyish about him beside his smile, is so blatantly into himself that it’s borderline repulsive.
“Watch it,” I warn him, making sure he sees my claws come out. “We should get started, otherwise we’ll never get through everything I want to get through.” I pop the cap off my pen with my teeth, and when I glance back in Kael’s direction I notice his eyes fall to my mouth.
Focus.Focus.
“Kael, stop looking at me like that.’’
“Like what?”
Jesus, could he play innocent any better?
“Like that,” I say, pointing the pen in his general direction. I smother a long-suffering sigh, but barely, and for reasons that make no sense at all, this seems to pique his interest.
“You don’t like me very much, do you?” His voice drops slightly, and the gentle roll of his proud Adam’s apple as he swallows, makes me pause. There’s a hint of disappointment in his tone that I might have missed if I wasn’t the one with the fancy degree hanging on the wall.
“What makes you say that?”
He says nothing. He simply stares at me.
His intensity is slightly daunting, but I don’t want him to think he intimidates me. I sit up straighter and lift my chin. “I’m here to help you, Kael. I need to know what you want.”
“Does it matter what I want?”
“Of course, it does. Whether I like you or not makes no difference to the outcome.”
His head tips forward and then he links his fingers together, resting his hands in his lap. “I like the way you say my name.Ka-el. You put more emphasis on the end, rather than the beginning.”
“Isn’t that what life’s about?”
This causes him tohesitate, as if he’s trying to make sense of my words. “Yeah, I guess. But here’s the thing…” He suddenly sits forward, his elbows resting on his widespread knees. “I’m pretty sure you get paid either way, so maybe we should just sit here and stare at each other for an hour every day and call it done. I’m not a great talker.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Okay, let me rephrase that. I’m not real good talking about myself, or my feelings, or shit.”
“Orshit?”
“Yeah, you know, the shit that goes with the rest of it. With life. All the shit that goes with life.”
“Therapy can help you sort through the shit, and if you do it right, then you might just come out the other end not covered in the stuff.”
“Therapy’s never worked for me before.”
“Sounds like you had the wrong therapist.”
He doesn’t say anything else for a couple of seconds. He bites his bottom lip slowly, hanging his head, and I’d really love to get inside that head of his right now. I’d love to know what he’s thinking. He has a past. A troubled past. I didn’t spend all those years at an Ivy League college for nothing. But Kael’s past is something he wants to keep buried, and there’s got to be a reason for that.
“If you don’t want to be here, Kael, you can leave any time. Rochester is a voluntary program. You know that, right?”
He nods slowly.
“But I don’t think that’s what you really want, is it?”
His eyes slide to the door, staring at it for the longest time. “Leaving isn’t an option,” he eventually says, and his voice isn’t as rough and scratchy as it was before and I’m desperate for more of that vulnerability. “I can’t play with the band if I don’t get sober, so I don’t really have a choice. I have to be here, whether I like it or not.”
Shuffling my butt back further on the couch, I grab a notebook from the coffee table and flip to the first blank page.
“Then we better get started.”
