The Multitudes Within Me (Sequel to The Sound of Ice)

27

I felt the same way last year, too, when I kissed him. Almost exactly a year ago. God, I do need to work on controlling myself. And after that, our relationship was never the same as before. But to be fair, I guess relationships aren't supposed to stay stagnant. Right?

Cameron looks at the price of a bracelet, then blinks up towards the ceiling. "What's twelve times seven point five?"

"Ninety."

He smiles. And maybe some things don't change.

~

"I'm Dr. Miller, but you can call me Elizabeth," says the psychiatrist, and she shakes my hand. Her teeth are bright against her dark skin, and her curly hair is tied back in a bun. "It's nice to meet you, Sam."

"Nice to meet you, too." The lights in the office are dimmed, and there's a candle burning on her desk. I sit down on the couch, crossing my hands uncomfortably on my lap, feeling like a specimen in a lab. My right leg is bouncing and my cheeks are warm, and I hope she doesn't notice, but she's probably trained to notice this stuff. She clicks a purple pen and smooths out a notebook on her lap.

"So," Elizabeth says slowly, and I let my eyes drift around the room. There's a bookshelf against the wall, a bunch of titles with words like adolescence and sex. Diplomas are hanging on the wall, and so is a black and white photo. She notices me looking at it.

"You like the photo?" she asks.

"Yes, it's cool."

"I took it in London. Went to grad school there."

I can tell she's trying to make small talk, but my discomfort makes it difficult to participate. Elizabeth smiles, leaning back comfortably in her chair. "Are you nervous?"

"A little."

"That's alright. Plenty of patients are nervous their first session. Everything we say here is entirely confidential, of course. And I have a notepad out only because it helps me organize my thoughts, not to judge you in any way. Sound good?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you tell me a bit why you're here?"

I stare at my hands, feel my chest rise and fall. And then I say honestly, "My boyfriend."

"Your boyfriend wants you here?"

"Well, yeah. He - he thought it would be a good idea."

"Do you think it's a good idea?" Her voice is smooth, not unkind, and she waits patiently for an answer.

I look up at her. "I think so."

"Why?"

"Therapy can make you happy."

"Are you happy?"

My eyes slide back to the painting. It's of a city street, a back alleyway, heavily shadowed. "Sometimes."

"What makes you happy?"

"I like space. Learning about it, I mean. I like learning in general. I like kids. I like being with my boyfriend and his family, and my uncle - they make me happy. And I like reading."

"And what makes you unhappy?"

I rub my ear with my shoulder. "Thinking too much."

"Do you feel like you think too much?"

"Sometimes. Most of the time."

"What do you think about?"

Something in my heart dips, and I look at Elizabeth, her brown eyes intelligent and understanding. It's good that she's a stranger. It makes it easier to talk in a way I didn't really think about before. So I tell her little bits of things, nothing in too much detail, just the skimming over the basics - Tom, Marly, school, Dr. Howard, nightmares, Cameron - and Elizabeth nods along. She jots down in a note once in awhile, or asks another question to keep me talking when I clam up.

What feels like minutes later, Elizabeth glances at the clock on her desk. "That's about time for today," she says.

I feel clean and dirty at the same time.

"I'd love to meet with you again, Sam," she says. "Maybe we can fit another session or two in before Christmas?"

I stare at the photo. "Okay."

"I'm going to prescribe you some anti-depressants, a very low dosage to start out with. Does that sound okay?"

I wonder what's written down on her notepad. "Okay."

I take the elevator down to the first floor, surprised when the buttons blur in my vision, blink it away, tuck my arms against my body and wait for the doors to slide open where Cameron's waiting for me in his car. 

A/N sorry for this overdue  / messy chapter! how we doin folks? thoughts about sam?