Chapter 21-Broken Bad Boy's and therapy sessions

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Another chapter in Ethan's POV! Haven't done this in a while

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Another chapter in Ethan's POV! Haven't done this in a while. Hope you guys like it.

Clearly unedited.

Ethan Rivers

It became routine for me to spend my lunch times with Mrs.Keller rather than with my actual friends. It wasn't out of choice, trust me. Rather Mrs. Keller snaked to Dad that I wasn't regularly attending her sessions. So, after hours of vitriolic ranting and raving about how I was setting myself down a path of failure, I had one decision to make: go to Mrs.Keller's sessions, or its 'bye bye' car keys. Naturally, I chose the prior.

So that brings me here, now. Sitting on a moss green, suede sofa in a small office so heavily ornate that it was suffocating. We were suspended in an stiff and stale silence, the only sound I could hear was Mrs.Keller impatiently tapping her pen against her thigh. She was waiting for me to talk, but I was determined to make this silence stretch until the end of the session. Only 15 more minutes to go.

"You're gonna have to open up to me at some point, Ethan" Mrs Keller desperate plea broke the stale silence that we'd been stewing in for the past 5 minutes. I was unresponsive to the sound of her voice, instead gazing at my mottled-purple bruises that marred the tan skin of my fingers. They were old enough that the intensity of the purple dulled, but new enough for discomfort to seize my fingers as I tried to make a fist. 

"Ethan

"What?" I snapped sharply. 

Mrs.Keller took a steady inhale. It was clear that after three weeks of sessions- minus the ones I had been dodging- she was losing her patience with me. This was good news, eventually she will get tired of my unresponsiveness and she'd tell Mrs.Novak she no longer wanted tobe my therapist.

"Why is it so difficult to express how your feel?"

"Maybe I have no feelings to express, have you ever thought about that?" I spat, leaning forward in my chair. "Instead of shoving all this crap about 'emotions and feelings' down my throat, why can't you just accept that I'm fine?!"

"Its a lie, Ethan, and you know it" She looked at me hard"As much as you say that you are okay, your actions say something completely different. I want to help you-"

"No you don't" cynicism drenched my tone, robbing the hope that lived in her eyes. I was gripping the sofa arms so hard it felt as though my fingers melted into the fabric

 "You want to fix me. You want to make me into something I'm not just so you can feel accomplished. Reforming one of All Saints troubled students"- I scoffed drily-"that will definitely show Mrs Novak that you are more than just a pretty face and a degree."

Disbelief danced in her eyes. "That's so untrue, Ethan. This isn't about me, it's about you. Its about your mental health and your happiness"

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