Love Therapy (GxG)

20

Derrick's voice, dripping with annoyance, makes itself heard despite the bar's fairly loud pop music and our giggles. "Guys shut up! I don't like her like that!"

"You don't like who like that?"

Suddenly, everyone stops speaking and heads raise to greet Joy, who looks suspiciously at all of us. I hide a grin behind my lemonade -I am driving- and greet her with my best innocent look. "Hi Joy, so happy you could join us!"

Judging by her still squinting eyes, I did not do a good job. But soon everyone is moving their respective chair to leave space for Joy-coincidentally between Derrick and I- and Joy only has time to pinch my thigh before everyone is talking to her. She really has a good energy, I think as I'm studying her profile. Everyone wants to know her, to talk to her, she's a straight-A student but still very shy and humble. And so very pretty. Maybe that's why everyone wants to talk to her.

As I am watching Joy interact with my friends, my eyes focus on a face in my line of sight, glaring at me.

I quickly turn away from Derrick and tune in to the conversation.

***

The month of February starts with an appointment with a new therapist. Dr Jones is a very nice, plump, middle-aged woman, who seems to read my thoughts and with whom I feel very comfortable. My anger issues really have simmered down, as I'm able to share details of my childhood, when I had a lot of difficulties opening up to my previous therapist.

Dr Jones makes me make peace with difficult times and difficult people, not forcing me but strongly advising to forgive, and miraculously, I feel way lighter.

The moment I leave the room, when the appointment is over, the door opposite Dr. Jones open and like in a movie, Diana steps out, sweeping her hair over her shoulder. Time seems to have slowed, but I quickly pull myself together and smile. A polite "Hello doctor", answered by an equally polite "Hello Kennedy, how are you?" To which I respond "Fine thanks," with a nod, and walk down the corridor to the receptionist's desk to plan the next appointment. Sofia's not at her desk, so I wait a little, and realize I'm not alone in the room.

Diana has followed me and for a wild moment, I think she wants to talk to me. But then, I notice the man sitting in the waiting area, as he stands up, his eyes roaming all over Diana's form. He follows her to her office, and just like that, she disappears.

I'm a bit shocked at the stab of jealousy I feel at the fact that this man is in a room with Diana. When he so obviously admires her assets.

But I have no right over her, and he's her patient, probably not so dumb as to try to kiss her. I cringe at the memory.

"What's that face for honey?" Sofia is back at her desk, and when I eye the steaming mug in her hand, her little grin transforms into an apologetic look. "Sorry. Long day."

We chat a little bit, and then I have to hurry back to my last lecture of the day, Characteristic of Living Organisms.

I'm a bit distracted during the two-hour lecture, sometimes texting back and forth with Kyle. Kyle, who still teases me about my attraction to Diana, and who still doesn't know about The Mistake, as I've started calling it.

What kind of bestfriend am I, when he tells me all his darkest secrets. I've never been any good at sharing mine, sure, but isn't it all about reciprocity? If we were in a session, Diana would tell me that it's the wrong way to look at relationships. That I think too much about what I could do for others. And that I don't owe anyone anything, except basic kindness and respect.

Except with Kyle, it feels like a treason. And I trust him, I do. I know he wouldn't tell a soul. So why am I hesitating? Why haven't I come clean when I came home, three hours after The Mistake, and he asked what could possibly have caused the haunted look on my face?

I rub my palms all over my face, grimacing at the onslaught of unwanted memories.

"Something wrong Miss Grant? Maybe you could enlighten us on the 7th characteristic we were talking about, hmm?"

And suddenly, the whole room is silent and waiting for my predictable humiliation.

I clear my throat, not deterred.

"The seventh characteristic is 7 Sensitivity, sir." I practically quote my manual, staring straight into my professor's eyes in challenge. "All living things are able to sense and respond to stimuli around them such as light, temperature, water, gravity and chemical substances."

I meet squinty eyes with a proud grin, and my professor finally relents. "Right. Next time, please participate even before I try to ambush you. You clearly can contribute well to the lecture." He turns to his laptop, and just like that I'm off the hook. I nevertheless decide to ditch the phone and put it in my bag, making a mental note to confess everything to Kyle as soon as possible.

***

As soon as possible arrives the same evening, after my last lecture that could've gone so horribly bad-well, maybe not horribly bad, but the humiliation of being interrogated in front of a hundred other students and failing is the stuff of nightmares for me.

So when it is time to talk about my day, I deflect, sharing the moment in class that I'm starting to be proud of, or gossiping about having seen Derrick and Joy having lunch together. Not a word on my new therapist, the sweet Dr. Jones, or the reason why I have a new therapist.

"I had Alexander this morning." Kyle suddenly declares, while we're on the couch, Kyle watching a show, Love Island on the TV, (which doesn't seem to be a show about Love) and I'm browsing on Facebook, trying to make a decision if I should delete my account altogether.

My eyes don't leave my laptop, as I act uninterested. "And? Don't you have her, like, every other day?"

I see from the corner of my eye Kyle stretching back on the couch, a speculative look on his face. "Yeah I know. I told you last time that she ignores me. Well I think it's not just me. She just seems weird lately." Kyle glances at me, expecting some sort of questioning, but I absolutely refuse to be baited. When nothing comes, he continues with a sigh. "Weird as in very distant. She doesn't hang back like she use to so we could ask questions and everything."

My next thought is that she is maybe as disturbed to not see me anymore as I am. And then I scoff. What kind of narcissistic asshole am I becoming? Unfortunately, my reaction draws Kyle's attention, which was back on his stupid show. I quickly try to give an explanation. "Maybe she just doesn't have time. Who knows?"

I focus once more on my laptop, avoiding the glare burning through the side of my head. That doesn't deter Kyle, though.

"Well you might. You went to dinner together, she paid for your car reparations, are you not bestfriends now?" There's a smile in his voice but my heart is pounding in my throat, and I decide there is no better moment to confess."

"Well about that," I swallow around the lump in my throat. I stare at the open Facebook page, not wanting to see any judgment in my best friend's eyes. "I need to tell you something. Wait wha-"

I feel Kyle's warmth engulf me as he looks over my shoulder at my laptop. "What's up? You were saying something and it sounded important? Kennedy?"

But I'm still stuck, jaw open wide, on an announcement, in between a cute video of a dog and a joke about a falling grandma.

The announcement was straight to the point, just a few words, and read: George Clay, husband, father, and therapist died from an undetected traumatic brain injury following a motorcycle crash six months earlier.