"What's wrong with some light stabbing?"
Delving into vigilante-ism, Charlie Redmond has balance everything from her superhero neighbor to her math tests to her inability to talk about her feelings. Unlike her morally righteous co-worker, Spider-Man...
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Dr. Clair balanced the notepad on a beige pant-clad thigh. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and the grey from the room seemed to leach its way onto her ebony locks. "Ms. Li mentioned you went to DC and that's why you missed a few sessions."
I nodded casually, trying to seem like I had slept last night. "It was for a decathlon competition. We won." I added the last bit with an attempt at an affable tone, but the couch felt like it was spinning in the cold room.
Mimicking my nod, she adjusted her glasses to be lower on her nose bridge. "You also fell nearly the entire way of the Washington Monument."
"I got a free t-shirt." A closed-lipped smile came on my face. "And it was only about half of it."
Brows furrowed, her tan face wrinkled. "You're not... fazed by it?"
"Nope."
She inhaled deeply then adjusted her notepad as if it had slipped in offense at my comment. Behind her thick lips, she toyed with her tongue before deciding to continue. "Are you close with your teammates?" I shrugged. "Do you find them easy to talk to?"
My eyes narrowed as I feared for the "you don't trust" talk again. "What are you getting at?"
"I have read your file, it's messy." She started and I tilted my head to one side. "Eleven homes. Eight runs. Three group homes. Two adoptions. One dead friend." Her head leaned forward as a sign of understanding, but all I could think of is how much closer she was at slapping distance. "You're a smart kid, you're bound to know these things are weighing you down, and sooner or later you'll drown. Find someone to talk to."
If only she knew I had, and drowning didn't scare me nearly as much as falling. Whether it was the events of last night or the fact I hadn't eaten since something in me snapped a little.
I clapped and she folded her hands. "Bravo." My elbows rested on my knees, sarcasm built its way to my tongue. "Tony should pay you double this week." As scribbled something in the notepad, I continued. "Honestly, I think I'm cured. You've saved this case of parental issues from the pole. Our troops, salute you."
Her lips tighten on a comment that probably would have broken her professional facade. It took a second but then she altered her planned words. "Nearly every session you mention Mr. Stark. Why is that?"
"Because it's funny that he thinks throwing money into therapy is a viable solution," I replied, a little too honestly.
"Solution to what?"
"Nothing important."
Mouth pursing, she inspected me carefully as I shot her a dull look. "I want you to name three people you think you can be honest with."
"Brad Pit, Megan Fox, and... Thor."
"When you can be serious, write them down." She said, noting the clock and writing a note on the pad. "You don't need to show them to me, but I want you to have them by the end of the week. And as an incentive, if you complete the assignment, we have less sessions."
