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“N… no,” I stammer as a heat fills my cheeks. I know I’ll get into the swing of talking eventually, but it takes me a little while. “Nothing happened, it was boring. I just read.”
“Did you read anything nice? Are you still reading Little Women?”
This is how it always is with Mr. Banker. He’s so interested in everything I say. It’s nice to have someone who likes to listen and remembers everything I say, but sometimes it reminds me of how boring I really am. I don’t do anything, I just keep myself to myself.
“No, I finished that one.” I’m okay when I’m talking about stuff that I like, it brings out a slightly more confident version of myself. I think that’s why we always start with discussing literature. It eases me in. “I started reading Wuthering Heights again though on Saturday.”
He smiles to himself and I know what he’s thinking. He’s probably wondering why I’m so obsessed with novels with a lot of romance in them when it’s something I don’t have any experience in, but for me that’s the reason. I want to know everything about it, I want some knowledge. I even found an erotic romance once that I started to read to give me some more information on that area, but I found it too scary. I had to stop. I still have the book, but I don’t know when I’ll get to it.
“I see, well that’s wonderful news. I know how much you love that one. Are you enjoying it again?” He peers intensely at me, waiting for my response. “Or are you bored now?”
“No, no, I like it.” I nod slowly. “It’s always amazing. That’s why I always read it.”
Mr. Banker pauses for a moment and he taps the pen on the edge of his clipboard while he thinks. I don’t think he ever bothers to write notes about me anymore, I’m pretty sure he hasn’t done in a very long time. I think it’s all for show now. He just wants to remain the professional at all times.
“You can talk about the real stuff if you want to,” I tell him while kicking my feet idly along the floor. I can’t look at Mr. Banker as I say these words because it makes me so uncomfortable, but we can’t just do the small talk thing. It’s a waste of time if we do. “I don’t mind.”
“What do you want to talk about?” he asks me curiously. “Is there anything specific that’s troubling you? Do you want to talk about the past again, or are you more concerned with the future right now? I’m here for you so I’m happy to talk about whatever you want.”
I snap my eyes up at him in shock, usually he’s very controlling of the direction he wants the talk to go in which is fine by me. I think I need that. I need someone to push me when it gets really hard or I’ll just go quiet. I wonder why he’s doing this for me now?
Maybe it’s because I’m leaving soon and he’s giving me a little bit of a chance to blossom. It’s terrifying to be in the driver’s seat, I don’t know what to do with the control. Do I want to hash over things with my father and his violence again before I’m set free and I can’t talk about it again? Do I want to talk about how scared I am that he’ll be out of prison eventually and I might have to face him, or do I want to talk about what’s coming next?
“I… I don’t know,” I confess as I wring my fingers together. “I don’t know what I want to talk about really, there’s just so much.” Mr. Banker doesn’t pressure me, he sits silently while he waits for me to work things out myself.
I sift through my brain, trying to work out what’s troubling me right now. There are so many things, so many worries, so much trouble, but there is one thing that’s worse. “I guess I’d like to discuss the future and how I’m going to deal with that.”
Chapter Three – Logan
Seeing Pru is always a little strange, but today more than ever and I’m not totally sure why. I guess because her time at the center is coming to an end and it’s making me feel nostalgic. The girl who she was when she first came here nearly five years ago is nothing compared to who she is now. She was shy, quiet, afraid, nothing more than a little girl. Now, she’s slowly blossoming into a beautiful young woman. As her curves and womanlier figure have come in, so has some confidence. I’m sure she doesn’t see it that way herself but I see real progress.
She flicks a strand of her very pale blonde over her shoulder and she lets it dangle down her back. Until very recently her hair was incredibly long, but more recently she had it chopped into a bob style and it makes her look so much older. It brings out her bright, sparkling blue eyes and her high cheekbones. I part my lips to tell her that but I stop myself at the last moment. That’s probably not the best thing to say. I don’t ever have to reel myself in with anyone but Pru.
“It’s going to be strange when you’ve gone,” I say instead. “It’ll be quieter.”
“Quieter?” She giggles and leans forward, flashing her teeth at me. It always takes her a little while to relax but once she doesn’t take long to relax and when she does she’s a whole lot of fun. “But I’m the quietest person here. It’ll be quieter when Leah leaves. She’s so loud.”
“Urgh, tell me about it.” I roll my eyes dramatically. “It’ll be dead silent when she’s gone, but I still think I’m going to miss you so much more. Losing you will lose a presence, you know?”
She blushes brightly but doesn’t reply. I suppose she doesn’t know what to say to that, which is fair enough. It wasn’t the most sensible thing to say. It could easily be misconstrued.
“I don’t know about that. I think I’m going to miss this place more than it misses me.”
I pause thoughtfully and watch her expression change. I know this is going to be hard for her, I’m more aware than most how challenging the big wide world will be, but it’s something she’s going to have to face eventually. I don’t think putting her off and making her wait will help. She doesn’t have to leave the center until she’s eighteen, she could probably stay until she was twenty-one years old if she wants to, but I don’t think it’ll be helpful. The sooner Pru gets out of this bubble and she experiences the big wide world, the better. She needs to get adjusted.
Actually, I do think she’s ready too. I think she can do it, she just needs confidence.
“We will all miss you,” I insist. “But you can always come back and visit. The doors will always be open for you. You don’t have to leave and never come back, you know?”
“Yeah, I know,” she sighs sadly. “I do know that, but at the same time it’s a bit scary.”
“Oh of course it is.” Her hand dangles over the edge of the chair and I want to take it to comfort her, but I don’t. “You haven’t been out of this place much in the last five years, during which time you’ve grown and changed dramatically. Of course, it’s going to be scary, but exciting too, right?”
She shrugs and purses out her lips. “I don’t know, I suppose so.”
I’m so used to spending time with the girl now, I think during our time shared in this room I’ve built up a bigger connection with her than I have done with any of the others because she needed so much work, and also because she’s been one of the most willing to try out things I’ve asked her to do so. Because of all that I’m not really ready for her to leave, but since this isn’t about me at all, I need to do what I can to help her. I wish I could do something to make this transition easier.
“What are you most afraid of?” I ask her curiously. “Is there something specific troubling you?”
