Let me hide

Chapter 10

     

        It took me about two minutes to realize therapy was not right for me. There was no introduction, no sympathy. The first thing he wanted to know, well as he puts it, "What is wrong with you". 

I thought it was completely unprofessional. Yet, it made me realize that nothing is wrong with me. I'm just unhappy, not with just the way I look, but with life. I have parents, but they're not here. I lost my best friends, I lost my brother. 

I know life won't always be this hard, but right now it kind of feels like it. I told Dylan I did not want to see this therapist again, he respected that. He didn't question it, just obliged by it. He was finally meeting me halfway. 

This past week Dylan got Preston and I out of the dance contest. We were eternally grateful, we were going to sit in the back and 'mock' the other students who had to do it. Preston said he still wanted a dance though, just not in front of the whole school. 

I guess my mental health was a more present matter than a silly school dance competition. I actually heard Preston thank the lord when I told him. I told him I'd save him a dance, just one, anytime he wants. 

Dylan and I go grocery shopping after my failed therapy session. He needs things for dinner. Now dinner was extremely hard. Dylan was home every night to make dinner. We were all expected to be at the table prompt at seven. 

Logan returned to school two days ago. He had missed too much and couldn't afford to miss anymore. He did keep up with his assignments when he was here though. Dylan made sure of it, he'd be damned if he let Logan fail. 

Marcus and Preston have laid off, I try to eat around them. I usually don't eat a lot, just enough for them to notice. Preston walks me to class with his hand on my back, it was more so a 'leave her alone' thing than an 'I like you' thing. 

Speaking of eating, Dylan pulls me out of my trance. He asks me what I want for dinner, I want nothing, but I don't say that. I tell him it's his pick, I would be happy with anything. He seems pleased, he must have had something picked out but didn't want to say it. 

We finish shopping and head home. I head upstairs and Dylan unpacks the groceries. I make my way to my bed when something on my desk catches my attention. It's a blade, that I don't recall putting there. 

*****

Around six-fifty I make my way downstairs for dinner. The table is set and Marcus is already in his chair looking at something on his phone. Dylan asks me to pour the drinks and I happily do. Pouring drinks is literally nothing, but it's something to help. 

Junior comes walking in the door like he's on fire. To be fair he probably was, the workshop had no a/c and was strictly an outside business. Makes hella bank though, considering only two people work there. Everyone else quit, to work somewhere fancier. 

Dylan puts the hot food on the table and instructs us to dig in. Junior had already made it to the shower, it felt wrong we never waited for me. Dylan has made burgers with sides of french fries and baked beans. He has also cut some watermelon, what is this, fourth of July. 

It's not the fourth of July by the way, we still have aways away before that. The boys liked the food, and in theory, this wasn't really a lot. To me, it was a feast, but in reality, it's a normal family dinner. 

I eat a burger and some fries, it takes almost everything in me just to pick up the burger, but I do. It almost doesn't bother me, because it feels good. Then I start to feel full, and regret follows immediately after. 

After dinner, I go up to my room and lock myself in the bathroom. I almost want to throw up, but I don't. I just sit on the floor and cry. Once again, in a week's time, I have put myself in this position. Crying in the bathroom because I eat, because I made myself full. 

The doorbell rings and soon after I hear Dylan shout for me. I wipe my tears and walk downstairs to the front door. Preston stands with a t-shirt in hand. Dylan clears his throat behind me, and it startles me. I tell him I'll be a minute, and close the door. 

"So, you probably already know, because Marcus is on the football team but we got new shirts in, and I wanted you to have one," He says. 

I hadn't known they got new shirts. Marcus hadn't told us, and yet instead of smiling or thanking him, I cry. I don't mean to, but the stress from dinner and everything kind of just hits me. 

"I didn't mean to make you cry," He says worriedly. 

"No, it's fine, I just need a minute," I say as I walk to one of the steps and sit down. 

It takes him all about thirty seconds to join me. I rest my head on his shoulder and he lets me cry. 

After about a minute of just sitting there, I take the shirt from his hands. 

"I'm okay, sorry I got all weepy on you. It's just been a rough week and I just needed to get it out. I'll be fine" I say because I had to be. 

"Just to be clear, this is not me cashing in my dance card," He says as he stands up. He puts his hands out for me to grab and then pulls me up. 

He twirls me around before I melt into his body. A slow dace some call it, to me it was more than that. It was a feeling of safety, a friend helping me through a hard time. 

Soon the dance ends and he has to leave. Kissing my forehead, he gives me a hug. He knows that I'm okay, he also knew I just needed a little bit of love.