I hate being late.
Except maybe today.
The clock ticks closer and closer to one in the afternoon yet I remain tucked under the covers in my cat pajamas with no intention of getting out.
Someone knocks on the door. I roll around in the sheets, letting out an irritated groan.
"Come in," I say, figuring it's Mia with a homework question.
Instead, a tall brunette woman in a blouse and jeans steps in carefully.
"Carrie," I greet, practically jumping out of bed. I look down at my toothpaste-stained pajamas and tangled hair. "Hi. How are you?"
"I'm as well as I can be," she says with a warm smile. She pulls out my desk chair. "Do you mind?"
I shake my head quickly. "No, of course not." She sits down and looks at me expectantly until I sit back on my bed to face her.
She glances around the room, pausing on a photo of me and Zack from when he flew back for senior prom and smiling. Then she sets her eyes on me. "Zack told me that you have your first therapy session today."
My lips part slightly and I feel myself looking down. "I do."
"How do you feel about that?" she asks with an understanding smile.
I bite my lip. "I don't know," I admit. "I mean, I can't afford to go to therapy continuously so I kinda feel like there's no point. There's the school counseling center- I went there for a bit- but there's so many students that it's hard to get an appointment."
She nods slowly, still staring at me.
"And I'm scared to talk about it," I admit. "Scared to have to relive it all. I'm trying so hard to be strong and not let it get to me but... I don't know." I take a deep breath. "It's hypocritical because I'm always urging Zack to keep fighting but I'm so tired of trying myself." I look at her. "I just want to curl up and stay in my bed forever to be honest."
"Being strong doesn't mean not feeling," she says. "Staying soft is the hardest. You know your truth, Amelia. Hold onto that." She takes a deep breath. "I know what happened with Marcus." My breath hitches slightly. "And I understand," she says. "I was fifteen, hanging out with a boy who I thought was my friend, and he hurt me." She nods at me as if making sure I understand.
"I'm sorry," I say.
"So am I," she says. She takes a deep breath. "The trauma never goes away. The healing process is long and painful but the way I got through it was by remaining me. By making sure I got help when I needed it, talked when I needed it, and knew that there were always more people out there to help me than to hurt me."
She steps forward and grasps my hand. "You will get through it, Amelia. I did. Every dark thought I had, all the people who told me I couldn't do it and waited for me to fall- they're the ones who disappeared. And when I look back on all that I could have potentially missed out on in life, I'm so grateful I worked through it and never gave up."
The tears pooling in my eyes begin to drip down. She reaches out and brushes them away softly.
"I want you to know that I will always be your number one supporter," she says. "In my eyes, you've always been a part of this family. And as long as you have Zack in your life, you will have me, too."
My lip quivers as I try to wipe away the tears streaming down my cheeks. "Thank you," I whisper.
"I mean it," she says. "No one has loved my son like you have."
I let out a choked laugh and swallow. "I'm consumed by him," I say. "Completely."
She smiles. "I know. And for that, I'm forever thankful."
I return it then take a breath. "I should probably get up now, shouldn't I?"
"I'll drive you there," she says. "Take all of the time you need."