"DID YOU HEAR THAT SOUND, BABY, IT'S MY BEATING HEART."
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Guidance Counselor was dressed like a fraud, suit and tie, not sparing anyone in the room a second glance. My mother was also dressed, and my father seemingly didn't want to be here, tapping his foot impatiently. If only my mother and father knew how many times Guidance Counselor pulled out a flask in my presence. He wasn't certified for this.
"I think," he began, concern painted on his features. ", Joshua may need some professional help."
My father grunted, hand falling onto my shoulder harshly. I held back the wince, because emotion makes you weak, and I was not weak. "My son is not in need of professional help, he's got you, doesn't he? Aren't you supposed to help him?"
My mother sighed, tilting her head. "What my husband is trying to say, is aren't you enough for him to get back on track?"
"Mr. And Mrs. Dun, Joshua has been cutting class."
My hands curl around the hard, uncomfortable chair, and I glare at him. What an asshole. This wasn't his place at all. My fathers hand began to sweat on the fabric of my t-shirt.
"Is this true, Joshua?"
There was no way out of this. No lying, no excuses, no confused faces. I was caught. Guidance Counselor rat me out. Called my parents, signaled my failure. And so, without searching for pity, I nodded. And my parents asked why but what sane teenager would answer? My father promised Guidance Counselor I'd get the help and attention I so deserve and my mother reached over to squeeze my hand. She said she loved me and stood, leading my father out of the office. I followed suit, pausing to flip off the elderly man slipping off the tie. The hallways were full when I walked out, and a hand grasped mine before I could get very far. My mother. My father hasn't touched me without my consent since my twelfth birthday party. I grimaced at her.
"I'll call Dr. Rubio first thing in the morning." She promised, licking her thumb to wipe something off of my face. She was calling the psychiatrist that Uncle Gary had before he commit suicide in the middle of the woods in December. I moved away from her, nearly bumping into my father. He smiled at me.
"This is a long time coming, Josh. You've needed help since the accident."
The Accident is what my father loved to call it. Accidental misconception. I wanted Bernard to kiss me. I wanted to lie about it. I wanted to be touched in ways of non-existent caress. From the corner of my eye I can see Tyler at his locker. He was crying, and none of his dwarves surrounded him to wipe his tears with silk rags. I excused myself: "Thanks, guys. I should really get to class, though. See you later."
