“Anything. Now tell me you will.”
“I will tell you if I need anything,” I repeat softly.
“Good girl. I’ll see you at six.” My reaction to the words is just as visceral as the first time he said it to me earlier today. My lower stomach tightens, and I want to hear him say it again, which makes little sense to me, other than the desire I have to make him happy.
“Bye.” I’m breathy and obvious, so I hang up the phone quickly, hoping he didn’t notice. I distract myself by scrolling through my phone and trying to decide what I’m going to order for dinner. I got my fill of red sauce today with lasagna. While it wasn’t as good as Beth’s, it wasn’t bad, but I don’t feel like pizza. After fifteen minutes of searching, I opt for an Asian place that has great reviews for their takeout and a huge variety.
As it gets closer to five, I get antsy. I already have my laptop open on my desk with the meeting room pulled up, ready to get this over with. This is only our second appointment since I moved away. So much has changed in such a short amount of time, but I don’t know what I want to share with him. I know for a fact he talks to my parents about our sessions, which didn’t bother me before, but I don’t like the thought of it now.
The loud doorbell ding from the computer alerts me that Maxwell is ready. “Hello, Waylynn.” His eyes crinkle at the sides with his smile. He’s older, maybe in his fifties, with medium brown hair and dull blue eyes. His tweed blazer is open, revealing a simple white shirt without a tie.
“Hi.” I send him an awkward wave.
“How are you this week?” I can’t see the pad of paper on his desk, but I know from experience it’s there.
“Good,” I tell him honestly. “School takes up a lot of my time, and I’m getting to know the area better.”
“You’re not feeling too overwhelmed with the class load?”
“Not yet, but it’s still early.”
He looks up from his notes and assesses my face. “How about any student groups or social events?”
I work hard not to seem dodgy when I answer. “I’ve signed up for the study group in math, and some of us went to the dining hall after.”
“That’s great. How do you feel about the group? Did it seem helpful?”
“I think so. We’ve only had one meeting so far. I skipped today so I could be here for this.” I don’t mention that Oswald and Memphis offered to help me anyway.
“Oh, do we need to adjust your time for next week?”
“Tuesday or Thursday might be better,” I agree, knowing I don’t see the guys on those days.
“I’ll make a note. Cindy will message you with the new time after she checks your class schedule.”
It didn’t feel intrusive when I sent his office my schedule before, but it feels strange when he mentions it now.
“Any voices?” He gets to the meat of it.
“No.” I shake my head in denial too. I usually don’t have an issue fibbing, I’ve had to do it for a long time, but not usually to him, and I’m a little concerned he will know.
“Any symptoms or side effects from the medication?”
“I don’t think so.”
“No drowsiness, lightheadedness, headaches, or confusion?”
“No,” I tell him, even as I’m thinking about the first time the guys spoke to me
and I felt all those things and more. Could it just be from my meds?
“How about depression, or are you having a hard time sleeping?”
“No.” I feel like a broken record.
“It’s okay to tell me if anything is going on,” he urges.
“I know.”
