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"Am I not surprised to see you here?” She removed her glasses, her brow lifting simultaneously. An amused look slowly settled on her face giving rise to an eye roll from Shane.

“Not he sent you my picture too. He really is committed.” Her voice remained monotonous, she wasn’t in the least bit surprised that her dad had sent this lady her picture as well.

“He didn’t send me your picture, I saw you on his Facebook. Close the door behind you, take a seat anywhere you please.” She pushed her chair back, standing to her feet.

Her black and slightly blonde bohemian faux locs sat neatly against her shoulders. They went well with her light brown-golden skin.

"I'm not staying long

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"I'm not staying long. I just came to see what the hype is all about." She tried to remain nonchalant, maintaining a straight face –despite her heart feeling anything but nonchalant.

"Regardless, take a seat. In this space I need the both of us to be as comfortable as possible. So choose your resting space. Couch, beanbag, floor. All up to you Shanae." She chose to take a seat on the black single couch, and they both watched each other — awaiting Shane's choice.

She sighed, her eyes bouncing between the beanbag, and the chair. The giant beanbag was calling her name, but she didn't want to get comfortable. She still wanted to remain alert. The chair was more logical. It was formal. It's what her brain was leaning towards.

What seemed like the easiest part of their conversation, turned out to be the toughest for her. This softened Dr. Webbs eyes as she glanced at this troubled soul that stood before her — with ripped jeans, a red tank, and a black leather jacket.

She closed her eyes, then moved toward the beanbag — settling down.

"You really don't want to be here?" She rhetorically asked, but found it to be the perfect way to start the conversation.

"No." She opened her eyes, momentarily locking them with Dr. Webb's.

"Then why are you here?" This time she puts on her glasses that were previously sitting on her forehead. She doesn't have her notebook, or anything to do any note-taking. Which was something Shane was expecting.

"Something big happened yesterday. I couldn't tell the only person I feel comfortable telling because I don't want to be a burden. My other option was to go cause havoc in some club. I don't know. I guess I realized that, outside of him — I don't really have anyone to talk to. And that's pretty sad." She twisted her lips, and laid her gaze upon her fiddling fingers.

"Why do you feel like you're a burden to him?" Dr. Webbs' eyes moved to Shane's fingers, then back to her face.

"I don't know. I feel like he's always saving me from myself. The last time he flew back home because of me. I've been feeling really bad about that." She sighed, quickly looking at Dr. Webb, before looking back down at her fingers yet again.

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