“Tell me about your friends at school,” she asked after I deflected her line of questioning about my early years with Judy yet again.
“Molly and Heather?” I asked, looking up from the patterns I was tracing on my leg with my fingernail.
“And the quiet one. What was her name again?”
“Katie,” I said, wondering why she had brought them up again. I tried talking about my friends a lot the first few weeks, but at the time Dr. Marshall seemed more interested in digging into my childhood with gusto. It was a clever strategy on her part to bring them up again, but I wasn’t stupid. She just wanted to distract me and get me talking about Judy’s punishments. If she wanted to continue the tug-of-war, so be it.
“Tell me more about them. You eat lunch together every day?”
I scraped my nail across my skin, liking the way it puckered. “Yes, and share a couple classes too. It’s not like anyone else wants to sit with me. Everyone else is too busy watching me like a circus show. I thought you said they’d get over it.”
She drummed her fingers on her desk. “Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know. You’re the specialist, right? You tell me,” I said sarcastically. It felt good to unload. If she knew so much, why hadn’t she given me the secret formula to get all the bitches at school to stop giving me a hard time?
She scribbled something on her notepad, but didn’t rise to the bait. “Do you and your friends ever attempt to invite anyone else to eat with you? Is it possible some of the other kids feel excluded?”
I snorted. “You’re kidding, right? The way other kids treat me is our fault? Besides, why would my friends exclude anyone? They welcomed me with open arms.”
“Yes, but the four of you might be unintentionally discouraging interaction.”
I shook my head at her mid-sentence. The other kids had no problem interacting with me throughout the day with their snide comments and finger-pointing. My friends just didn’t take any crap. That was the difference at lunch. “It’s just easier with us four,” I finally answered in frustration.
“Why do you think that is?”
I groaned. I hated this line of questioning. It was as if Dr. Marshall was searching for a certain answer and instead of asking me directly, she took the long way to get there. It was like we were tiptoeing around the issue. “I don’t know. Maybe they hate everyone else too,” I answered.
“Why?”
Of course, why—why—why, that was all she ever asked. I should save us the step and say it for her. “Because everyone else is a bunch of assholes and my friends probably already know that,” I said, raising my voice.
At least there was no point in Dr. Marshall asking “why” again. I had already given her a hundred examples of what my classmates had done. Clearly, they were assholes.
My session ended before we could delve into the subject any further. I couldn’t help noticing that she looked troubled as I stood up and gathered my stuff. It was unsettling to see her eyebrows drawn together and the small frown on her face. I debated asking her if she was okay, but our relationship didn’t stretch that far. As a matter of fact, I knew next to nothing about Dr. Marshall except for the small bits I’d gleaned from walking around her office. Obviously, she was extremely intelligent. The countless certificates and accolades that lined her walls testified to that. She wasn’t one to collect knickknacks though, which made it hard to figure out what she liked. She only had one framed picture in her office and it was of her and an elderly woman who looked like an older version of her. I had tried to ask on another occasion if she was married or had children, but she always deftly sidestepped my questions. I figured it had something to do with the whole patient/doctor confidentiality thing.
I tossed a wave over my shoulder, telling her I’d see her again on Friday. Jacob was waiting outside to pick me up since Mom worked late on Wednesdays. “How was your session?” he asked when I climbed into his car.
“Same. I sit there while she tries to shrink my brain.” I grinned at him while I buckled my seat belt.
He laughed. “Nice. You’re getting good at that.”
Jacob and Kevin had made it their mission to teach me the finer points of humor. Admittedly, I was a bit of a stiff for a while. Now I practiced all my jokes on them. Most were lame, but I was catching on. Humor was an odd concept for me. I wasn’t exactly exposed to many funny things for ten years. I’d found humor in books on occasion, but firsthand experience was something different.
“Thanks,” I grinned, turning the radio up when I heard a song I liked. Music was definitely one of my favorite parts of my new life. I couldn’t get enough of it. “Where’s Kevin?” I asked when my song ended and I turned the radio back down to a conversation level.
“Working. The water park’s getting busy now because of different counties starting spring break. Just one more week and we’ll get to chill at the beach on our break too.”
I smiled broadly. Shortly after I was released from the hospital, Mom had taken me to the beach, but a cold front had kept me from getting the real beach experience. To make up for it, Mom had reserved a condo on the beach for the entire week we’d be on spring break. A week away from school, and the beach as an added bonus. I was beyond excited.
“I can’t wait.”
“Me either, kid. It’s been ages since we’ve been on a vacation.”
“I don’t even remember going on one. Did we go on vacation before?”
Jacob looked sideways at me before answering. “We went on our best ones before, you know? You don’t remember the Disney Cruise to the Bahamas?”
I shook my head, searching for the memory. Cruise ships were huge. How could I forget I’d been on one? I closed my eyes, trying to recall anything to help me remember. “Nope,” I answered. “How old was I?”