Chapter Nine
Hutch
Isat down on the oversizedcouch and looked around my therapist’s room. It hadn’t changed much since I had started coming here eight years ago. Same white bookshelf in the left corner, with different books, although I suspected they were switched out every couple of months, newer plant because she didn’t have much of a green thumb so they all kept dying, and a tired looking painting of fruit on the right wall. It looked like someone at least dusted and cleaned in here every week because this time the painting was not crooked like I had commented on Friday when I was here. Stuff like that bothered me with my OCD issues. There was a beat-up desk shoved in the left corner of the room that I had only seen Megan, that’s what she insisted I call her, sit at once or twice, and it was overloaded with folders, notepads, and boxes of Kleenex.
Megan was seated in middle of the room directly in front of me with her tablet, a worn-out coffee table separating us. Her hair had been a rusty orange color eight years ago, but now it had faded into a grayish white. I glanced at the window that looked toward the overgrown lawn and wished I had rescheduled. I wanted to be anywhere but here right now. I didn’t want to talk about myself today.
“So, Hutch.” I continued to stare outside as Megan spoke. “On Friday you mentioned a girl, but things hadn’t gone the way you thought.”
I nodded. “Jillian.” Just the sound of her name made everything inside my head spin around. The way her lips tasted, the way she tasted, and the way her warm body felt against mine. I glanced over at Megan to find her watching me curiously.
“That’s a pretty name.”
“She’s a pretty girl.”
Megan smiled. “Does she know about what happened to you, Hutch?” She crossed her legs and placed her tablet on the arm of her chair.
I shook my head. “No.” I dropped my gaze to my legs as the left one jumped up and down.
“You went on a date though. The carnival,” Megan went on. “You argued afterward because someone said you were too different. Have you spoken with Jillian since that night? Reached out to her at all even via text?”
“I, uh, ran into her Saturday night. We talked.”
“And?”
I could feel my neck and ears burning from embarrassment. “We kissed, held hands, and I sort of gave her an orgasm, orally.” At twenty-six, I shouldn’t be such a novice about sex, but it wasn’t really my fault that I was this way.
Megan must have picked up her tablet again because I could hear her typing. “Did she offer to return the favor?” I nodded. “Did you want her to?” she pried further.
“Of course.”
“What happened when you told her no?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I freaked out. I told her I wanted her, but I couldn’t.” I felt anger burn inside my body. “Jillian is so, fuck, she’s perfect. I started to get upset and wanted to hit something, but you know what? She said it was okay.” I met Megan’s eyes. “I feel like she can see inside me and knows me better than I know myself.”
“Maybe she does.” Megan uncrossed her legs. “You’ve talked about having sex then? She knows you’re a virgin?” When I nodded my head, she pressed her lips together. “You’re going to have to tell her the truth. If you want this relationship to work, tell her what happened to you.”
I chewed nervously on my bottom lip. “I’m afraid that she’ll push me away,” I admitted.
“Hutch,” Megan leaned forward, “what would you do if she doesn’t?”
I had absolutely no idea.
***
