“Sorry if it’s cold. I ordered when I got here,” I add in, a foreign, nervous anticipation taking over my tone.
Sutton brings the cup to her mouth. Takes a sip, then another. She sets it back down in front of her, and I’m holding my breath. Foam clings to the corner of her mouth. The tip of her tongue sneaks out, licking it away.
“You remember?”
“Never forget.” I have to swallow discreetly, my words staccato, then remind myself not to be jealous of foam.
Something flashes through her eyes.
She opens her mouth to say something, licks her lips, again. Then shuts it, turning to grab the folder and rifles through it.
“We should get started. I only have an hour.”
Sutton hands me a stapled packet. She walks me through the overview of what we will be doing. Explains that each of our ‘sessions’ together will look different. Some will be evaluations,some might be working through an activity. She wants to go at my pace and mold this to work for me, which I appreciate. I ask a few questions, she answers; everything is going smoothly.
“I don’t want people knowing that we are working together,” I work up the courage to tell her.
“Yeah, caught that vibe when you ran out on me. Why? Am I some sort of dirty secret?”
I swallow. “Not you…”
“Part of my job is confidentiality. It’s none of my business to tell anyone about what you are going through. I’m only subjected to tell someone if you ever want to hurt yourself.” There’s a tremor in her hand and she looks at me in my eyes. “You aren’t thinking that, right?”
“No. I promise.”
“Okay.” Our gazes hold and we inhale in sync. Sutton reaches out for the donut at the same time I do and our fingertips graze. “My paper and the evaluation will all be anonymous. Okay?”
“Thank you.”
She flips around a paper that looks like a test. “This is our pre-evaluation. This will help me gauge where we are at now. You’ll do it at the start of each month to track progress.”
I skim the questions. “Are you going to ask mehow does that make you feel?” I joke. Sort of.
“No. Not necessarily.”
“But you will?”
“Take the evaluation.”
We fall into a foreign yet comfortable silence. I read and answer a question, circle the number correlated, and peek up at Sutton between each one.
She’s either scribbling onto a paper or chewing on the end of her pen. The cap mutilated with teeth marks. Her mom does the same thing.
“Done.” I slide the paper over to her side of the table.
“And how did that make you feel?” Sutton jokes, bright eyes peering up through her lashes. A hint of a curl upward to her glossy lips, probably cherry flavored.
My shoulders shake with a laugh, and she matches it with her own.
Truthfully, I don’t know how I feel about this. Eager? Nervous? Ansty? Hopeful?
“I need to get to class, but I’ll look over this and then we can coordinate a time to meet next. You are away this weekend for games, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then next week?”
“Sure. Can I walk you to class?”
