Thorns

1

"Look Finley, you got lucky the court only appointed you to therapy and nothing else." My therapist says to me.

"They're making me come to therapy because I refused to go into the foster system. With all due respect ma'am I'm here because they couldn't prove I did anything wrong. I had no drugs on me and my piss test came back clean. They were angry because they couldn't charge me with anything. I'm well known in the system so they decided therapy is what I need." I say to her.

"You have been coming to me for almost six months now and you have made no progress at all. It is the same song and dance with you. I am only here to help you kid." She looks at me with loving eyes trying to get me to trust her.

"I don't trust you Mrs. Tatum. I have been in and out of therapy for so long that I know for a fact once you feel as though your job has been completed you will never see or think about me again. After this session you'll have another kid just like me come in here and you will say the same things to them. The difference between me and these other kids is that they actually believe that you care for them. I know you don't. So why don't you just write down on your little clipboard that I am showing great progress and we can say goodbye and never see each other again. Deal?" I do my best to annoy her so she will no longer want to meet with me.

"It's too bad you don't trust me, and unfortunately for you I'm not like other therapists. I really do care about you. You're different from the other kids that come in here. I can tell you want help, you just don't think you deserve it. With that being said. I will see you back here next week, same day, same time. You are free to go." She gives me a condescending smile.

I roll my eyes and walk out of the door. On my way out I pass other patients and scoff. They don't know what it's like to be me. To have an absent homophoic father and a junkie of a mother. It wasn't always like this. Once upon a time my father loved me and my mother was sober. Then one day two years ago I came out to who I thought were my supportive parents. My father denied it and when I came home from school my mom and my dad were fighting as my dad packed his things. My mom turned to drugs and blamed me for everything. My older brother decided it was too much and moved across the country to get away from her. These are the things my therapist would like me to tell her, but I never will. Why should a stranger get to decide what's wrong with me when I already know. I've gone a year and half with no help. Why do I need it now?

The walk from therapy to work was short and boring as always. Once I got to work I was greeted by my coworker Millie with a bright smile and a hug as usual. I huff and don't hug her back.

"Why don't you ever hug me back?" She questions.

"Cause I don't like hugs. You ask me this every time we work together Millie." I roll my eyes.

"I'm just trying to be friendly to my favorite coworker." She smiles again.

"I'm not even nice to you, how could I be your favorite?" I shake my head.

"Dunno, something about you I suppose." She shrugs as I'm called to the front where my manager is.

"Finley, we had a call off so you're barista today instead of window." She orders.

"Can Millie and I switch? I really can't do front." I plead to her.

"No. Just do your work, social anxiety is not an excuse." She says as she turns her back on me.

If I didn't absolutely need this job I would probably get fired with the things I wish I could say to her. That woman thrives on making me miserable. Instead I suck it up and take a deep breath. It's just five hours, how bad could it be.

"Large caramel macchiato." A deep voice says out of nowhere.

"$5.25." I say to him before looking up to take his money. I look up and my eyes widen. Ace fucking Tatum.

He hands me the money before saying. "Keep the change for a tip, you obviously need it."

"Thanks." I say sarcastically. "I'll have that right up for you." He nods and sits down while I make his drink. As I'm making it three other boys come in and greet Ace. I do my best to focus on the drink until I hear someone say my name.

"No way, faggot Finn works here?" One of them say excitedly. I take a deep breath and continue to make the order I was given. I hear them all snickering as I hold up the drink and say.

"Order for Ace. Caramel macchiato." He hears his name and walks up with the rest of his posse to get his drink.

"So Finley, how's your dad?" One of the boys teases. "Oh wait, never mind. How about mom?" He pokes again. "Oh right. Whoops." He laughs.

"Can I help you with anything?" Millie appears out of nowhere.

"Oh no, we were just giving our friend here a hard time." Ace winks at her. Barf.

"Oh how great. If that's all then I would appreciate it if you hopped out of line so the customers behind you could order. Our manager has hawk eyes and if you stand here chatting it up for too long Finley and I will get in a lot of trouble so, scoot. Thanks." She says bitterly.

"No worries. Have a good one guys." Ace smiles at her before walking away with the rest of his crew.

"You know, I go to school with those guys. Ace the one with the drink is a year older and they enjoy fucking with me. So what you just did probably costed me a possible good day at school tomorrow. So thanks a lot. Next time butt out." I say annoyed.

"Finely, I think it's time you go home. Your friends and you seem to have gotten a rise out of our customers." My manager smiles that stupid smile at me and waves me off.

"Thanks." I say to Millie before grabbing my things and leaving the cafe. Why me?