I'm On Your Side

1 | The Universe Has, Once Again, Failed Me

We walk up to the door when it occurs to me that I haven't asked my mom how long this therapy group is going to last.

I look at her, about to open my mouth when I realize she doesn't have her mask on. "Mom, your mask," I say, sounding like it's a crime to not have your mask on.

She looks at me peculiarly and then widens her eyes. She mumbles something in her mother tongue (probably curse words) before walking over to a desk where a lady is seated.

"Hi. I'm here to drop off my daughter for the therapy session at six," she says, motioning over to me, "I was wondering if I need to fill out any papers or anything like that." The lady shakes her head, smiling.

"No, you're good," she says, flipping through some papers on the desk, "but you said six?" My mom nods her head and the lady chuckles. "It's five-thirty." I roll my eyes.

My typical Indian mom: the one time when we're actually early is when I have a therapy group. Who would've known? I try to remember if we came early to the therapy group I went to last time, but I can't.

"Okay, well, my daughter can sit over here until the class starts, right?" my mom asks, signifying to the lounge behind us.

The lady nods her head. "Yeah."

"Okay," my mom pauses before looking at me. God, she looks like a mess. Suddenly, I feel guilty: I made her look like that. Like, the fuck? Wasn't she the one who started it? "Okay, well, I'm going to leave. I'll just go for a quick grocery run, but I'll be back just in time to pick you up," she says. "You'll be okay, right?" I nod my head.

"She'll be fine!" the lady says, cutting in. I refrain from rolling my eyes. Does this lady not know when to talk and when to talk? Because from what just happened, I can definitely tell that she doesn't.

"Mom, I'll be fine," I insist.

"Okay," my mom says as she arranges her purse on her shoulder. She starts for the door before waving back at me. I wave back, slightly. She's not usually like this, so she must've really gotten hurt from what I said, I think to myself. I start for the lounge before pausing and turning around to face the lady.

"I can sit here, right?"

The lady nods her head. "Yeah."

I sit on the couch and pull out my phone when it occurs to me that I forgot to ask my mom how long the class would be.

I debate on asking the lady when the door swings open. I sigh as I think to myself that there is no way in hell I'm going to ask her now and am about to settle myself back into the couch when a familiar voice says: "Okay."

My stomach does a belly flop as the voice makes its way to where I'm sitting and plops down on the chair across from me. I sneak a glance at the person just to confirm that person is who I think it is and sure enough, it is.

My heart starts beating rapidly.

Goddammit, hormones! Out of all the things that could happen today, I did not think that the Universe would place Mason fucking Ferguson in my therapy group. Ironically enough, I'd hoped for Jackson Hunters (my crush from Sophomore year) to show up at my therapy group last time, so, I guess, this is the Universe making it up for me.

Or maybe it's for revenge.

Because suddenly I don't feel too comfortable with Mason sitting across from me. In fact, I've kept my body so stiff since the time Mason sat down that now it's starting to ache. I debate on getting up and asking the lady where the bathroom is just to get out of this painful posture, but my anxiety prevents me from asking her and I find myself literally shaking for five minutes until the door opens again and a girl enters the lounge.