"Honestly? A little, yeah. She's crazy," I whisper.
I make it to my appointmentjust in time. Everyone thinks I have a class right now. I don't know why I'm hiding this from my friends—my family knows. This is something I need to do to get past—things.
"Olivia?" Dr. Wheeler says softly, a smile on his face. I know him well enough by now to know that it's not fake—the smile and kind voice. It's who he is. I got lucky when I randomly picked a name.
"Hi doc," I reply walking into his office. He closes the door behind me and I take a seat on the sofa across from his chair. It's a lovely wingback chair I'd love to have in my home some day. I'm a fan of wingback chairs—don't ask me why because I don't know the answer.
"What's been going on this week, Olivia?" he begins.
I start fidgeting, picking at my cuticles. "More of the same. School and homework."
He nods. "Any social activities?"
I nod. "I hang out with Lex and Bash, as you know."
"Bash?" he questions.
I smile. "Yeah. I hate having to say Sebastian all the time, and I amnotcalling him Seb or Sebby. Those nicknames don't fit him. Bash seemed to fit."
He nods and writes something down.
"Anything else?"
"We went to a party last weekend. I didn't drink but everyone else did," I tell him reluctantly.
"Why do you say it like that?"
"Well," more fidgeting, "as you know, Cam's been really busy with football and I hardly ever see him."
I pause.
"Go on. What you say here, stays here."
"I just wish that he wasn't drunk during the little time we do have together." I sigh.
"How does it make you feel when he's drinking and partying when you'd rather be alone?"
"Hurt. Angry. Disappointed. Mostly disappointed. I get it. I do. It's important. It's his future, but…" I trail off, picking at the invisible lint on my leggings.
"But you should be important too," he finishes for me.
I nod, breathing deeply past the disappointment and hurt filling my heart. "I don't know how long it will last."
Admitting that rips the tear in my heart a little more.
"You think it will last longer than just the season?"
"Yep. He already told me about some camps and things his coach has lined up for him—which is good," I say, trying not to cry.
"It's good forhim, that's true. But what about you, Olivia?" he asks, pinning me to the wall with the question I've tossed around in my mind the last three weeks—since Cam all but disappeared from my life.
"What about me?"
"What's good foryou? Is waiting around for Cam good for you? This may go on indefinitely."
I look up at the doc. "What are you trying to say? You don't have to hedge. Lay it out there."
"All right. This is ultimately your decision as it's your life. But, you don't know how long Cam's vacancy in your life is going to last—if it ever ends. This could very well be permanent with his career goals," he tells me, a touch of sympathy coating his voice.
