College Kids And Champagne

Mashed Potatoes And Premiers

Jacen’s POV

“I suppose you want me to talk about my childhood.”

Eyes, pale grey and patronizing, regarded me over a pair of thick rimmed glasses. “Do you want to talk about your childhood?” Dr. Keller asked neutrally from where he sat, professional and poised in an oversized leather chair.

“You’re the therapist here, right?” I asked lazily, letting my head dangle off the side of the sofa as I threw a stress ball up towards the ceiling. “So you tell me Doc, does anything about my demeanor suggest I had a pleasant childhood?”

He studied me for a moment. He was young, Dr. Keller, probably mid thirties, but he had all sorts of fancy degrees on his walls, mixed with autographed headshots of celebrities. He was the crazy one if he thought he was getting my picture on that wall. Why would I want to advertise what a headcase I was?

"Not particularly, no,” he decided finally.

“Then why would I want to talk about it?” I snapped, catching the stress ball. “Jeez, for a guy who went to Harvard you’re kind of a dumbass.” I turned my head to offer him a sweet-as-sugar-shark tooth smile. “No offense of course.”

Dr. Keller took off his glasses. I doubted he needed them anyway. They seemed more like a fashion statement. “Do you know why you’re here Jacen?”

“Well, I was an accident so I assume it has something to do with a broken condom.”

Dr. Keller stared at me, seeming unphased. Based on some of the photos on the walls, he’d seen worse than me. Of course, I was just getting warmed up. “Your manager is worried about you. The trial is coming up in a few weeks, and she wants to make sure you’re in the right mindset to deal with it.”

“Her name is Odette,” I said, having gone back to playing catch by myself. “And she’s not my manager. She’s my mother.”

Dr. Keller was silent for a minute. I concentrated on the pink ball flying through the air. In my peripherals I could see the glossy leather of his loafers. “You went through quite an ordeal last December.”

“My whole life has been an ordeal,” I replied absently. “You get used to it.”

“It can’t have been all bad,” Keller said. I knew he was staring at me like something you might find under a microscope, but I pretended not to notice. “Your girlfriend, Nicolette - I know she means a lot to you.”

I began to wonder just how much Odette had told this guy about me. “You don’t know a damn thing about Nikki,” I informed him politely. “So don’t talk about her.”

“You’re very protective,” he noted casually.

“She’s my girlfriend,” I responded, giving him a WTF look. “I’m supposed to take care of her.”

“Did she know you were coming here today?”

“No. But to be fair, neither did I,” I said pointedly. Odette had suggested therapy to me before, but I’d always dodged the topic. Then all of a sudden our car had come to a stop outside this posh office that afternoon. I’d considered making a run for it, but Odette had begged me to just give it a try, and I caved.

I was starting to regret not running for it when I had the chance.

“You don’t believe in therapy,” Dr. Keller said with a small, knowing smile. It was the most accurate thing he’d said since I arrived.

“No. And I think a quick peek at my family tree will tell you why,” I replied, my attention back on the stress ball as it flew towards the ceiling, and then plummeted back into my waiting hand. “Just about everyone in my family has been in therapy at some point or another, and they’re all still crazy.” Or in the ground.