"This just seems like a really bad idea," I said, my hand on the door handle. We were standing just outside of Dr. Wrinkle's office.
"We can't back out now, the receptionist already saw us and called the doctor," Everett hissed.
"But this is really stupid." I turned to him. "Let's just go—"
The door swung open, almost banging into me.
"Sorry!" the lady exclaimed. "You must be my next appointment. Come in, come in."
She ushered us into the office before I could say anything else and gestured enthusiastically at the couch.
I looked at her dubiously as I settled myself down. Everett collapsed carelessly next to me, one leg bent inwards and the other over the arm of the couch. He draped his arm over the chair back where I sat, looking at ease.
I glanced around the little room. It was furnished in a memphis art style with brightly coloured furniture. The couch we were on had pink cushions, green armrests, and a dark purple back which was triangulated and didn't fit the seat properly. The single person couch opposite ours was similar but in three totally different colours. Tons of bookshelves with impractical storage space lined the walls, each shelf in a different colour. I had never seen so many colours in one place.
It was a bit of an eyesore.
"I like your office, it's quirky," Everett claimed.
Of course he would like it.
"Thank you." The lady smiled. "I'm Dr. Wrinkle by the way, but you can called me Holly."
She looked too young to be a legitimate therapist. Her light blonde hair was rolled into two messy donut buns, seemingly kept in place with the colour pencils stuck in them. She had clear blue eyes and a wide smile.
"Woah, the therapist is hot," Everett leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Now aren't you glad you're not here with your girlfriend."
I held in a long-suffering sigh and didn't respond.
Holly didn't hear him, taking a seat opposite us. "I know the thought of couples counseling must be scary. Especially if it's your first time."
She looked right at me as she spoke; I had a feeling she had overheard us at the door earlier.
"Yeah, this one didn't even want to come," Everett jumped in, jerking a thumb in my direction.
He seemed to be enjoying himself.
I found myself regretting this already.
"It's okay to be nervous; just showing up today is already a big step in the right direction. Let's start by introducing ourselves with some fun facts," Holly suggested.
Kill me now.
"I'll start," Everett piped up. "I like baking and I like cats, and the colour yellow; I think buttercups are really cool. And I can hold my breath for really long underwater. Oh and my name is Everett...or Evan."
"That's great Evan! I love the enthusiasm." Holly nodded her approval.
Evan. It was too basic a name for him. He was more akin to a...I don't know—a beam of sunlight or something; albeit a rather annoying beam. The kind that gets in your eye on a Saturday morning when you just want to sleep in.
"And how about you?" Holly asked, turning to me.
"Oh uh, my name is Clementine." I paused, not really having anything worthy to add.
Holly looked at me expectantly. "And...what's your favourite colour?" she probed, sounding for all the world like she was talking to a kindergartener.
I realized that I didn't really have one; I've never had one. It seems stupid to prefer a particular wavelength of light over any other. I glanced over at Everett. Sunlight streaming in from the high windows lit him from behind. It made a golden halo around his curly, black hair. I think buttercups would look nice in his hair.
"Um, I like art...stuff," I said lamely, avoiding the actual question. I suddenly felt like I did, in fact, have a favourite colour. Yellow.
"That's fantastic," Holly enthused. "Are you an artist?"
"No, no, it's just a hobby," I said hurriedly. "I haven't decided what I want to do yet."
"So, where did you guys meet?" Holly asked, changing the subject.
"At a cafe," I honestly replied.
"And how long have you been together?"
"Six years." Everett jumped in with the confidence of an idiot.
Holly furrowed her brows. "How old are you two?" she asked suspiciously.
I didn't expect to win the wager this soon.
"Uhh, twenty-five?" Everett lied. Quite badly.
I rolled my eyes. Maybe six years from now.
"Uhuh...um. Okay." She looked doubtful.
I didn't blame her.
Holly scribbled some stuff down while she asked us more random questions about our fake relationship. Everett spun a not-very-believable story, but Holly seemed engrossed in it.
"Wow, you guys," she said, dabbing the corners of her eyes with a tissue. "Clem, you sang to Evan from a rooftop? On a small Greek island?? That's amazing."
What the heck? I must've zoned out during that part of the story. I turned to Everett to glare at him.
"What song was it?" Holly asked, mesmerized.
Everett didn't miss a beat. "If I could turn back time. And he started singing at a church wedding before he ran out and got on the roof."
I almost facepalmed. The whole thing was just a scene from that 'Walking on Sunshine' movie.
Holly clearly hadn't seen it. "That's amazing," she gushed again. "Fabulous, Clemmy."
I felt myself bristle a little.
"He prefers being called Clementine," Everett quickly jumped in.
"Of course, Clementine," Holly amended.
I didn't have it in me to feel any gratitude for that though, after the whole rooftop story.
I zoned out again as Holly blathered on for a while and soon the session was over.
"See you in a week!" she called as we filed out of the office.
"That was fun," Everett said, beaming as we walked to the bus stop. "And she had no idea we didn't know each other."
"That was not fun," I argued. "And why did you say all that stuff about the roof? That never happened."
Everett laughed. "I thought it was funny. She totally ate it up."
"I would never do that," I grumbled. "And that movie was stupid."
"You've seen it?"
I didn't want to mention I secretly loved that movie. I just would never do that rooftop scene, personally.
A bright red bus trundled down the road and came to a stop in front of us, automatic doors opening with a steamy hiss. I followed Everett up the small, winding steps to the upper deck of the bus. He sat on the blue upholstered seats right in front of the windshield, watching the street like a movie as the bus took off.
"We don't have to come back here," I said, taking a seat beside him. "You won the bet, I'll help you bake whenever."
"We've gotta come back, I'm already preparing an exciting story for next time." Everett kicked his legs up on the front window. "Besides, a bet's a bet. One baking session per successful counseling session."
"Oh please. You just want to see the 'hot counselor' again."
"What?" A look of confusion passed over his face and then it cleared up. "Oh, I was kidding about that. I don't like girls, actually...."
"Why, what's wrong with them?" I stupidly asked.
"Idiot, I'm gay."
"Oh."
I paused. Everett burst out laughing.
I can't believe I just said that. I felt red hot heat creeping up my cheeks. Mortifying.
Everett doubled over in his seat, clutching his sides. "HA-ha, ahh.... 'Why, what's wrong with them?' Oh Clementine; you crack me up."
"It's not that funny," I grumbled. "You weren't being very clear."
"It was pretty funny actually." He pressed the button on the side of the rail. "Well anyway, this is our stop."
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