Mia Brown always thought she was a nice girl. She was polite, kept to herself yet was always keen on helping others if they gave her a little time to grow comfortable.
She grew up in a household where she never had the upper hand, where she was never considered the smart one. It was a feeling she got used to, waiting for instructions and then following them. Whenever she spoke a thought of her own, her parents were always quick in dismissing her and placing her back in line.
Mia Brown was raised to be perfect.
Psychology wouldn’t have been her own first choice for a university degree, but it’s what her parents pushed her towards. They listed all the pros of a degree in that field and she found herself nodding. Before she knew it, her signature was on the enrolment form and her education was paid for.
Five years of university for a topic she had forced herself to grow excited about. Mia always assumed she’d go for something like… biology. The human body fascinated her, more specifically the brain. She sneakily watched Grey’s Anatomy for years, finally divulging in it fully now that she lived in a dorm and was no longer at her parents’ house, and for a long time saw herself as a neurosurgeon.
It was safe to say Cristina Yang was her example for a very long time. Her bossiness, her huge brain and her overall attitude was something Mia admired, she felt. That was until she suggested the idea to her parents, who rather quickly shushed her and shot her a disappointing look. Her father claimed surgery was a field for men, not women.
Mia remembered feeling disappointed, but forced a smile and had nodded at him either way.
According to him, she should choose a job where she could do regular office hours and be home at a nice time to care for her future husband. Someone her parents had apparently even already lined up for her.
Daniel was nice enough, Mia thought. He was clever, polite and her father liked him. He was the son of a family friend and Mia saw him on certain occasions throughout the year. For the time being, both him and her were studying for their respective degrees at the colleges of their choice.
Mia didn’t particularly mind that they were on opposite sides of the country.
From a young age, she questioned her mother about the idea of love that she had seen in movies. Even though her parents never really allowed it, Mia did look at romantic films on the television and it was once more something she no longer deprived herself of now that she lived on her own.
The first time she asked her mother, was after watching Tarzan as a child. She liked how Jane fell for someone unconventional, someone who didn’t particularly fit the vibe of her own life. But she liked him for who he was and they ended up fitting their lives together.
Her mother hadn’t smiled gently at her question. She reprimanded Mia for it, for assuming that something like that could happen in real life. For her parents, love was a business deal. They had met in similar ways as Mia and Daniel had, and for them it was normal.
The first time Mia told her roommate and friend – Hazel – about it, Hazel’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Her reaction actually made Mia laugh, because she felt like Hazel made a rather funny face and it caused a rather embarrassing snort to rise up Mia’s nose until she buckled over in laughter. Hazel stayed shocked for a few minutes before she questioned everything about this love-deal that Mia’s parents had made with Daniel’s parents.
She asked for a picture of Daniel, which Mia showed off of his Facebook-profile. Hazel had scrunched up her nose and pushed her thick-rimmed glasses further up her nose while also using both thumbs to zoom in on the picture.
Mia had pressed her lips together, “He looks better in real life.” She defended him for some unknown reason.
The profile picture looked like him in the mediaeval centuries, posing for some kind of painter who’d make a portrait of him. It was stoic, very serious and the longer Mia stared at it, the funnier it became. Not long after, both her and Hazel were caught in a laughing fit while Hazel tried to impersonate Daniel’s picture.
It was hilarious, Mia thought. She couldn’t recollect a time she had laughed like that. So freely.
She had been shy upon meeting Hazel at first, but she had given Mia time and space to open up and feel comfortable. She was still a little reserved, as she was around basically every human being. She was extremely polite and never did colour outside of the lines. It was quite the contrast from how Hazel lived. Sometimes, Mia thought, Hazel was a bit careless. She took inspiration from it, but in her own time.
Something that sadly enough didn’t move on her own time, was her education.
How she got through high school with flying colours, turned into a huge mystery for Mia. Upon starting university with all the hope in the world of liking psychology, it was a bit of a let down and a reality check when she struggled tremendously with the course materials.
It was a challenge she hadn’t faced in a while. All throughout high school, Mia had kept to herself and studied hard. The results proved worthy of how much time and effort she put into her assignments and tests. In university, she struggled.
Somehow her dyslexia didn’t bother her as much in high school. Mia’s teachers were aware of it and aided her for certain parts. In university, the professors weren’t as concerned and left the students to their own, and it made Mia anxious.
While Hazel spent time with her friends – usually leaving the apartment to give Mia peace and quiet – Mia was huddled up at her desk with stacks of books and deadlines to achieve. It had surprised Mia, how hard of a time she had with the materials.
Mia did learn mechanisms, but it didn’t take away the added hardships of reading long texts or getting through thick books.
Especially when she was tired or anxious, the letters clouded together. The more frustrated Mia became, the harder it got to read the lines. It meant that she spent more time than ever between her books in order to pass her tests and get good grades.
It meant the world to her parents to uphold her pristine reputation.
Even when Hazel tried to coax her out for a night, Mia most often refused. Not only did she suffer from social anxiety, she was far too preoccupied with her school work to let loose for even one night.
“Good morning.” Mia softly spoke when she heard the closing of Hazel’s bedroom door. The next thing Mia heard was a loud yawn as Hazel dragged her feet over the hardwood floors of their shared apartment.
Mia supposed it was the scent of coffee that woke Hazel up this Monday morning. Mia knew Hazel didn’t have classes for a few hours but that she had some texts to read. One thing that Mia’s psychology degree and Hazel’s philosophy degree had in common, was that they both had to read a lot. Thick books with different materials, yet the same amount of pages littered both their desks.
Hazel was quite a bit more casual with it than Mia was, but that was alright. Hazel’s parents were nice people and upon meeting them for the first time, Mia sensed immediately where Hazel got her chaotic mind from. Mia’s parents did not assist in the furnishing-assembly party for their apartment while Hazel’s parents did. With bright smiles.
Mia made sure to thank them properly by cooking a nice meal for everyone that night. She declined the wine that Hazel offered and later on shared with her parents while Mia sipped on some water.
The same table Hazel’s father had put together, now held two coffee mugs that Mia filled with black coffee. She glanced over her shoulder to see Hazel with a wild mess of curls on top of her head, run-down mascara and her pyjama top on backwards.
The sight made Mia giggle under her breath while Hazel joined her at the table, immediately holding her head with both hands to soothe the hangover Mia was sure she had. She never assumed Sundays could be for partying, but Hazel proved her otherwise. Apparently when in university, every night was for partying. And Hazel often used that excuse to leave for the night.
She softly slid the mug of coffee with the little pink unicorns on it towards Hazel while taking a sip of her own, poured in another one of Hazel’s funky mugs that Mia preferred. Hers had little daisies on it, and she found that it brightened her day.
“You’re an angel.” Hazel’s raspy voice was a clear indication from lack of sleep and one too many cigarettes, and Mia smiled at the sentiment, “I figured you might need it to wake up a little more. I think I heard you come home at around four.”
Hazel lifted her head, panda-eyes on full display as she stared at Mia, “Shit, did I wake you? I thought I was silent.”
Mia smiled softly – trying to hide her everlasting shock whenever Hazel blurted out a curse word just like that – and shook her head, “No, you didn’t. I never sleep all that amazing when I know you’re going out.”
“Mia,” Hazel groaned with a slight eye roll, “I told you to stop worrying about me.”
Mia looked down while taking another sip of coffee, “I know, but I can’t help it. I noticed you didn’t bring your coat and it was snowing right before I went to bed.” She defended herself for worrying about her friend.
Hazel chuckled, “That’s really sweet, but it’s about a thousand degrees in every nightclub.”
“But what about when you go outside?” Mia retorted curiously. Hazel shrugged, “I waited inside for the uber to come and get me, so it’s fine.”
Mia tilted her head to the side, “Right.”
Hazel took a large sip of her coffee and Mia looked at her with endeared eyes, “Did you have fun?”
“Really fun.” Hazel yawned, “You should really join us sometimes. I think you’d like my friends.”
Mia took it upon herself to plant a little polite smile on her face, nodding at Hazel’s proposition even though the idea made her stomach twist, “Yeah, sure.”
Hazel and Mia hadn’t met yesterday. They had lived together in this apartment for almost two months, so Hazel knew perfectly well that when Mia said ‘yeah, sure’, she actually meant no but she was too polite to say so.
Hazel was too tired and hungover to start any sort of discussion about it, and she also didn’t want to make Mia feel uncomfortable. Mia liked their dynamic so far. She had been nervous to live with anyone who wasn’t her parents and her older brother, who had gone off to university a few years prior and who she hardly kept in touch with. Hazel coaxed and urged her, but never pushed. She understood Mia, she felt. And it was something Mia was grateful for. Their dynamic of being roommates turned into a dynamic of being friends over the two months of living together.
“So what’s your day like? Are you home tonight?” Hazel questioned.
Mia sipped down more coffee while taking it upon herself to start packing her lunch. She shrugged her shoulders, “I have class in about thirty minutes. And then it’s just all through to the afternoon and then from three, I do some therapy.”
“Right. Lots of clients today?” Hazel asked and Mia puckered her lips, “I don’t know, honestly. I’m sure professor Dillon will tell me when I get to class.” She popped a piece of toast in her mouth while spreading some hummus on the rest of the bread she packed for lunch.
Due to her struggling with her school assignments, her primary professor – professor Dillon – had offered her some work for extra credit. Her assignments and tests hadn’t been all that amazing, and in order to save herself, Mia was allowed to practise. She had never really learned many social skills, but found that giving therapy was something up her alley.
Maybe her parents were right after all when picking this degree for her.
Mia found that listening to other people and exploring their minds was something she needed to be good at if she wanted to be a therapist. Due to Mia’s struggling grades, she was offered the opportunity to receive extra credit, along with a few other students. Mia stayed behind twice a week to give individual therapy to fellow other students.
Some came to them voluntarily to just clear their minds and vent a little. Others had to come to therapy mandated from the school. Either they did something wrong at school – like they skipped too many classes or defiled the school property – and were given the choice to either pay a fine to the school or follow some therapy sessions with the psychology-students.
Mia had questioned the ethics of it, along with Hazel. Of course Mia and her fellow students made referrals to actual therapists if they felt like the problems were too severe, but they had learned that the students that came in for therapy sometimes just wanted a chat. It was free, it was accessible and it was private.
And then there were those who had to follow it for mandatory reasons. It was a bit sneaky on the school’s end, but if students chose therapy rather than paying for defiled property or receiving detention, parents weren’t notified. It was a great way for the psychology students to get some practice in.
It took Mia a little while to get on board with this plan, but the few students she had seen so far, had put her at ease and with each passing therapy session that she hosted, she felt like she got better at it.
One girl came to her because she had a minor drug problem but it was only an issue when she didn’t reach class on time in the mornings. Another came to her because they drunkenly broke into the school at night and broke a window.
It was another thing Mia tried to let go of, the anxiety of trying to predict who she was going to have in front of her and what story they’d tell her. She had learned that it was something she couldn’t control and strangely, that put her at ease. She couldn’t prepare for some of the things she heard.
Obviously, she was a first year student who had hardly learned any actual theory about psychology, but her school believed in a practical approach and Mia decided to use it to her benefit and gain extra credit from it since studying wasn’t going to be her forte in university.
She finished packing her lunch while Hazel told some stories about her night out. Apparently, she had gone to a bar – which Mia wasn’t surprised by. Hazel told stories with her hands, Mia noticed. She liked listening to her. Her eyes enjoyed following the movements of her fingers, bringing strength to her words as she enthusiastically spoke about events that were completely foreign to Mia.
Drinking shots. Dancing on tables. Kissing strangers. Mia listened with perked ears and wide eyes of a world that was unfamiliar to her. It was a world she was curious for, but also scared of. For now, Mia felt alright just following along from the sidelines.
“I took extra bread out of the freezer so you can have lunch. And I cut up extra cucumbers too.” Mia spoke while closing her breadbox to put in her bag. Hazel’s eyes could’ve turned into hearts at Mia’s words and she smiled at her, “I have the best roommate ever.”
Mia blushed and giggled, floundering at the compliment which still felt uncommon to her to receive in the first place. She didn’t think she had ever been the best at anything, so she liked Hazel saying it like that even if it was a figure of speech. Mia was sure there were better roommates out there than her, but she didn’t get in that headspace because it was one she struggled to get out of.
With her brown hair in her signature braid behind her back, Mia worked her way on exiting the apartment. She wore black jeans, wool socks, boots and a few layers up top to keep warm. November had just begun and it was very cold in the UK to say the least. It’s why she had felt worried about Hazel going out in what Mia was sure was just another short dress, without a coat.
With the first flakes of snow she saw drizzling from the sky from her opened curtain in the street lights, she felt a pang of worry shooting through her. Mia had learned that she enjoyed sleeping with her curtains open for the sheer fact that she could look outside. She enjoyed the business of their apartment, the sounds coming from the street, the distant chattering.
And at night, it was lovely silent. Mia loved the silence.
She bundled up tightly and bid goodbye to Hazel before braving the cold and making her way to campus on foot. It was about a ten minute walk and only recently had she dared to start listening to music on her walks. Mia wasn’t superstitious or paranoid, but her parents had always warned her. Not about anything in specific, they just warned her. So she was careful and hesitant about everything, also the few same streets she always took to campus to get to her classes.
As expected, she got in early. Her first class today was child development. It wasn’t something Mia found herself very fascinated by. She wasn’t fascinated by most of her subjects and she had yet to find her passion in this field. Neuropsychology was the nail in her coffin, if she was honest. After class one she knew she’d struggle with that one.
Mia pulled out her laptop and took a seat by the window, giving her a view of the snowed-in campus. She found herself smiling at the comfortable view, feeling quite right at home on this campus.
Moving away from home could’ve gone two ways. Part of Mia was very excited to do so, because her parents started to feel suffocating and she was keen on trying to figure out what life had to offer. She was ready to move on her own, spread her wings and figure it out. On the other hand, Mia realised she had always been very protected.
Her parents were set on her watching the news every night and she was confronted with the worldly horrors on a daily basis. It took her parents convincing to let her move to a big city as they called it.
Mia wondered why they never gave her brother that hard of a time when he moved away.
Class moved by quickly as Mia paid attention and took notes, knowing she was messing up lots of the words she typed. It was another thing she lost time with, going over her notes and fixing them every night before she could actually study them. If she focussed on that in class, Mia knew she’d be lost after only a few minutes as the teacher moved too quickly.
When the weather was still nice, Mia often chose to have lunch outside by herself. She’d sit at the campus grounds with a book or use the time to already go over her notes or study some more. But with the snow falling, she felt nerves seeping into her bones at the thought of having to eat at the cafeteria.
She spotted some of the people who had a few classes with her and they shot one another polite smiles. Mia was too shy to ask them if she could sit with them, so she chose a table in the back where a lot of people unfortunately dumped their trash after finishing their lunch.
Mia chose a spot at the far end of the table and used the back of her breadbox to push some of the empty wrappings to the side and give herself a little room to eat. She was grateful that during the course of her meal, no one threw anything on the table and they let her eat in peace.
After her afternoon class, she made her way over to professor Dillon’s office on the fourth floor of the North building. She had just snacked on some grapes and a cup of hot tea from the vending machine, her fingers coming down on professor Dillon’s office door which was slightly ajar.
He beckoned her in with a comforting grin, surrounded by stacks of papers on his desk.
His messiness resembled Hazel’s, Mia observed.
“You only have one therapy talk today, Mia.” Professor Dillon handed her a small file and Mia took it without second thought, “Okay. Room two?”
He breathed out a small chuckle, “You don’t have to ask anymore, you can take room two.”
Mia smiled wider and nodded gratefully, “Thank you, professor.” Ever since beginning this volunteering work, Mia had preferred to give therapy sessions in room two. They could choose from five rooms since there were usually five students volunteering, Mia being one of them. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was about room two that she liked, but apparently professor Dillon didn’t need much confirming and just handed it to her.
With the file under her arm, Mia made her way to room two, opening it up comfortably only to be startled with a yelp when she realised she wasn’t alone.
A boy was in the room. Well, a man really.
His eyes flicked up at the sudden action of the door opening, his eyes landing on Mia from his seated position on the couch. He wore a dark blue beanie and an equally dark oversized jumper that covered part of his hands too. They were clasped together as his elbows leaned on his knees and he comfortably sat on the couch.
Mia caught her breath and tried to hide the pinking of her cheeks, forcing him a small smile even if the stranger nearly gave her a heart attack.
“Hi. You must be…” She casted her eyes down to the file that the professor handed her, squinting her eyes to read the name properly, “… Sinclair, Harry?”
He softly cleared his throat, “Yeah.”
Mia nodded and closed the door behind her, balancing her bag, the file and her cup of tea which she chose to set down first of all before making even more of a fool of herself. She shrugged off her coat and made the room a little comfortable, shooting Harry a small smile, “Sorry, I just got here.”
He didn’t answer her as she went around the room, turning on certain lights and also turning on the heating to get the space a little warmer.
She had to admit she was a little startled to find the stranger here already. She liked getting in a little early to get the space ready and read through the file, to get a sense of at least the name of the person coming in for a chat.
Harry stared at his feet as Mia moved through the space until eventually settling down into the couch opposite him, a small coffee table between them. Mia clamped both hands around her hot cup of coffee and left a bit of a silence, taking him in.
She noticed the little glob of snot in the corner of his left eye, the writing marks on his hands, the few chunky rings adorning his fingers and the way they tightly grasped one another, joining in his lap when he leaned back against the back of the couch.
“Aren’t you supposed to like… talk or something?” His voice broke the silence.
Mia snapped out of her admiring-state and flicked her eyes up, a flush rising up her chest that she tried to hide by taking a sip of her tea and burning her entire throat simultaneously – yet another thing she tried to play off.
“Do you want anything to drink?” She changed the subject.
“No.”
More silence. She liked doing it like this at first, because it gave room for the other person to say whatever they were feeling like.
“Are you just gonna keep staring at me? I don’t think this is how therapy works.” Harry spoke again, a boring tone to his voice as his fingertips started playing with the armrest of the couch where there was a small rip in the sowing. His fingers picked on the stuffing in it as he had a more relaxed position.
Mia pressed her lips together, trying to think of some conversation techniques she had read through before starting any therapy sessions with anyone, “It’s not. I just like to leave room for some silence, is that okay?” She could tell her voice didn’t sound all that steady. Mia really struggled with these therapy sessions but knew she had to practise if she ever wanted to do this for a living. Her social anxiety just got in the way most often and she needed some time to get into it.
“Not when it’s awkward.” He mumbled, his eyes then going to the clock on the opposite wall, exhaling another bored sigh. Mia tilted her head to the side, “You don’t want to be here.”
Harry clacked his tongue and didn’t look at her, “Nice observation.”
Another small blush from sheer embarrassment and Mia blinked a few times before finally reaching for the folder on her lap. Mia softly cleared her throat and opened it up, “So… Harry. What do you study?”
“Philosophy.”
Her ears perked and she fought the small smile on her lips, the immediate thought of Hazel popping into her brain. Mia was sure her loving roommate would have no issue striking up a conversation with this quick-witted young man in front of her.
“That’s interesting.” She commented, earning her nothing more than a lazy shrug from Harry’s shoulders who seemed more occupied with destroying the stuffing of the couch than to speak to her. Mia nibbled her lip, unsure of where to go from here.
So she decided to ramble her memorised lines that she had to repeat all the time.
“So – “ She drew a breath, “you are in for eight sessions with me. The sessions are twice a week at first but about halfway we move onto once a week, so it’ll be a month and a half unless either of us falls sick or has to cancel due to class or an assignment.”
He didn’t react or respond so Mia felt like it was appropriate to continue, “We obviously don’t know one another, and I want you to know that nothing you say here will leave this room. I’m not here to judge. This is a… safe space.” She cringed while speaking the words but professor Dillon had urged her to speak them.
Harry exhaled a soft huff but still didn’t look at her.
“Oh, and I just need you to sign this. It’s an informed consent. You know, just that you agree with this and that I’m allowed to write some stuff down. It won’t go in an official file or anything, it just means I can keep some notes so I don’t forget everything by the time you come in next.” She spoke softly, pulling something out of her bag. Mia straightened out the sheet a little before leaning over the coffee table and placing it down with a pen on top.
Harry stared at it with little interest for a bit until he leaned forward too, took the small pen in his huge hand and lazily scribbled his signature without even taking a look at the words on it. He leaned back on the couch with a sigh so deep it seemed like putting his signature down was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.
“So, I think we should start fresh.” Mia forced him a smile after she put the consent form away ,and got up, extending her hand, “I’m Mia.”
Harry arched up an eyebrow, unimpressed as she stood in front of him. His eyes dragged up her form once and Mia could feel herself shrinking while trying to keep her extended hand steady. He eventually shook it with little enthusiasm, “Harry.” He sighed.
Mia couldn’t help but smile brightly when he seemed to cooperate finally, but Harry’s eyes were cast down rather quickly. The cool metal of his rings contrasted with his warm skin when they shook hands, but he dropped his hand with little enthusiasm the second it was polite to do so.
“Okay.” She kept smiling while sitting back down on her couch, feeling as if they could move on from this awkward first greeting and finally get somewhere. She tucked a short loose strand of brown hair behind her ear that had come loose from the braid in the course of the day and nibbled her lip, staring down at the file on her lap.
“Are you comfortable here? Not too cold? I turned the heating on a little but let’s be honest, the weather has been less than a treat lately. I for sure didn’t expect to wake up to snow this morning. Although it was a nice surprise because it’s so pretty, it’s not that fun if you need to get places.” Mia started her small-talk, which was her usual way to get her clients to feel comfortable and open up.
Harry exhaled a bored breath and just nodded, more to himself than to her. Mia pressed her lips together when she realised this wasn’t really Harry’s cup of tea, her just chattering. Maybe he didn’t need it.
“Have you ever gone to therapy before?”
“No.”
She nodded, opening up her notebook and scribbling something down, “And – uh, philosophy, hm? What year are you in?”
He put his chin on his hand while resting his elbow on the armrest, staring at her with an unimpressed look yet it still made Mia squirm inside. His eyes were quite intense and a very beautiful shade of green. She didn’t think she had ever come across someone with such striking eyes, or who’s eyes just stood out to her like that.
Mia found herself hoping he’d start talking soon so she could take the time to really look at him. She could listen to his deep, slow voice without paying much attention and let her eyes curiously trail over him for a moment. Right now, Mia felt like she couldn’t because he was watching her like a hawk and she felt a little shy under his gaze.
“Mostly in my second.” He shortly answered and Mia nodded, writing again to keep herself occupied, “Mostly?”
He shrugged, “Fucked up a little last year, have to retake a few subjects.” He answered and Mia found herself tensing up at the curse word he let slip just as casually as Hazel did.
“So you’re nineteen?” Mia had stopped writing and now simply drew shapes of eyes in the by-line of her notebook, subconsciously trying to mimic him. Harry exhaled again, “No, twenty.”
Mia curiously lifted her head, unable to keep the small frown from etching into her forehead. She parted her lips to ask the obvious follow-up question but Harry beat her to it with a small roll of those green eyes, as if he was already sick of hearing that same question, “I doubled a year in high school.”
“Oh.” She nodded, dropping her eyes again as Harry did the same. The room fell silent once more and Mia realised only six minutes had passed since she walked in. She mindlessly clicked her pen a few times until hearing a clearing of Harry’s throat. Mia’s eyes flicked to his, her cheeks pinking up a little as he shot her a slight glare. She put her pen down, “Sorry.”
Harry didn’t say anything but looked very much done with being in this room. His knee bobbed a little, sneaker-clad feet constantly shifting positions as he sat restless.
Mia usually refrained from looking into the file too much. She found she rather heard from the people themselves what they were here for, telling their story. Most of them didn’t mind telling her as she apparently was someone to be trusted rather easily. She had never come across a student as hard to crack as the boy in front of her.
But now, in this silence, she noticed her fingers inching towards the folder and she eventually took it in her lap again and opened it up. She saw his global information, such as his name and his date of birth.
An Aquarius.
Mia’s eyes darted over the paper and she nodded to herself, until she tensed up and her eyes widened upon seeing what he was in for. She couldn’t stop herself when her mouth gaped and she gasped, before lifting her head with struck eyes.
Harry didn’t even notice, too occupied with the stuffing of the couch again as he lazed in the chair until the hour passed by.
“You…” Mia croaked out, still dumbstruck with the newly found information. Her eyes dropped to the paper again as if to read it once more to check if she was actually correct and that her eyes weren’t deceiving her, “You really did this?”
“So far for not judging.” Harry huffed and Mia swallowed, “No – but… seriously?”
Harry didn’t say anything but didn’t look amused with her reaction. Mia drew a breath, “You had… intercourse with someone in the library and broke a bookcase?”
“Mhm.” He mumbled.
Mia read over the words one more time until she glanced at him, “Why?”
Harry’s eyes snapped to her, “Why? What do you mean, why? Because I fucking felt like it, of course. I was horny and it was empty. Is it my fault those fucking book cases are ancient as fuck and can’t take some weight on them?!” He bit.
Mia felt a bit taken aback by the sudden volume of his voice, staring as his fingers now angrily picked at the rip in the armrest while grumbling something under his breath. After another moment of silence in which Mia felt like she simply had no idea how to even respond to that, Harry sighed out, “It’s not that weird, people do it all the time. As if you’ve never felt the urge and just did it wherever?” He continued.
Mia straightened up and pressed her lips together, feeling herself turn pink again. It was a common thing whenever a client turned a question around on her. She didn’t like answering questions during these sessions, she liked asking them. It was basically the only thing Mia felt like she enjoyed about being a therapist. Her entire life, she had never really been listened to, and she didn’t feel a particular need to talk now either. But she enjoyed listening.
She enjoyed finding out how people’s minds worked, how their brains were wired, and how they processed.
She avoided Harry’s question specifically, because the fact that she was a virgin did not need to be discussed here, nor did she want him to find out. She just cast her eyes down, reading over the words just one more time to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
But no. Harry did have intercourse in the school library during a quiet moment of the day, but in the act he and the person he was doing it with, knocked over a smaller bookcase that did have some value to it. The school board was furious and wanted him to pay for the book case that he broke.
Harry apparently opted for therapy instead.
It seemed to be a decision he now regretted as he hung in the couch with his breaths even and his face looking like he had just received the world’s most awful news. It was quite clear to Mia that he’d rather be anywhere but here.
Mia felt like she had to gather herself and keep the conversation going, “S-So does your girlfriend have to get therapy too?”
“Girlfriend?” Harry chuckled at that, but in quite a menacing way as he shook his head, “She’s not my girlfriend.” He rolled his eyes, “She fucking bolted the moment that book case fell and she was out before the guard caught me. ‘M not gonna rat her out, I’m not a complete dick.”
Mia was absolutely baffled by the way he spoke so casually with so many bad words in his regular vocabulary. She shifted a little and nodded, as if the idea of casual sex wasn’t completely foreign to her. She resorted to writing down a bit more while racking her brain for the next question or something that could steer this conversation back to where she wanted it to go.
“How old are you anyway?” Harry broke the silence this time. Mia lifted her head with raised brows, immediately a tad bit intimidated by the attention being on her again. She fiddled with the sleeve of her sweater, “I’m eighteen.”
“Holy fuck.” Harry sighed desperately while dropping his head back into the couch, showing off his throat and all the veins running there – which Mia tried very hard to keep her eyes away from. “What the fuck am I doing here.” Harry whined more so to himself than to her.
Mia tried not to feel too hurt by his statement. She was aware that not all people truly enjoyed therapy or that they were made for it. But she had also learned that after a few minutes or at most after one session, she had swayed them and they actually looked forward to coming back.
Never had someone expressed such displeasure in spending one hour in a room with her. It made an uncomfortable tingly sensation run through her skin and her throat dried out just a little bit as she forced a small smile his way when he lifted his head again.
“S-So – uh, why don’t you just tell me the story of what happened?” Mia tried to shift it back to Harry, to have him speak a little more instead of just answering with ‘yes’, ‘no’ or a shrug of his shoulders. Harry rolled his eyes again, and Mia frowned to herself. Did he really think she couldn’t see it when he did that? Did he not realise how rude it was to just roll your eyes at someone like that?
“Look – Mia, was it, right?” He started in a breath and Mia softly nodded, “Yes.”
Harry cleared his throat, “You seem like a nice girl, but frankly – you look like you belong in church. I never meant for my fucking sex life to be a topic of discussion with a fellow student who’s younger than me. As if you’re supposed to give me advice or some shit?” He exclaimed, clearly frustrated. He chewed his lip, ready to spew more venom at Mia who shrunk just a little on the couch. She hoped professor Dillon was following along and was ready to intervene instead of letting her suffer like this.
“I can’t pay for that bookcase, it’s like four grand – so yes, I chose this therapy thing instead. Not all of us have the privilege of just doing some volunteer work without getting paid for it. Some of us actually do need money.” He bit.
Mia straightened up, a tight lump in her throat that she hadn’t expected just settled there. Rock hard, not wanting to move no matter how hard she tried or swallowed. She looked down to her lap, eyes blurring ever so slightly as she tried to breathe properly and remember her anxiety exercises.
Now would be a really good time for professor Dillon to come save her.
***
Professor Dillon didn’t come save her.
It was about forty minutes later and Mia had arrived home in the warmth of the apartment she shared with Hazel. She kicked the remainder of the snow off of her boots and then neatly put them next to the door to dry before padding her way into the space. Some lights were on and the door to Hazel’s room was on a small crack.
After nervously playing with the end of her braid for a bit, Mia thought she’d go in. She had contemplated it the entire way over, if she should bother Hazel with this.
Mia knew there was patient confidentiality, but she also knew the entire campus usually knew whenever someone had done something that earned them school mandated therapy. Mia was probably the only one who hadn’t heard about Harry’s library-escapades before today, because she didn’t speak to a lot of people and zoned out most of the time during the breaks.
Her knuckles gently came down on Hazel’s door and she could hear some music coming from inside.
“Come in!” Hazel called out and Mia nudged the door open, seeing Hazel up in her floral pink bedsheets and her laptop on her lap, a bag of chips next to her. She immediately frowned upon taking one look at Mia, “What happened?” She questioned urgently.
Mia’s shoulders deflated a bit and she let out a rugged sigh, that lump back in her throat, “I don’t – nothing.” She settled on, a sigh leaving her as she remembered how her and Harry had just been left in silence until he mumbled something under his breath and bolted out of the door.
She didn’t sign off on his session, so it didn’t even technically count as one. Afterwards, she had gotten scolded for it by professor Dillon. He hadn’t followed the session along so he had no idea what had been said, all he knew was that Harry left after about fifteen minutes instead of an hour, and that he had looked even angrier when leaving then when entering.
Mia stood small in front of professor Dillon, her arms protectively crossed in front of herself – even if it was a stance that her parents disapproved of because it was impolite – while he reprimanded her. It was quite familiar to Mia, she felt like she had been reprimanded her entire life.
Her parents had never been too liberal with their compliments, which is why praise from anyone – including Hazel – made her beam so much.
“Hey, Mia, come on.” Hazel frowned in worry and Mia shrugged, “Just – uh, a bad therapy session. Well, m-my first bad therapy session. I was just starting to think that I might be good at it but this… this guy showed up a-and I just didn’t get anywhere and I completely choked up.” Mia started rambling, her voice jumping a little as her words followed one another quickly. She looked anywhere but at Hazel as she was one big ball of worry now.
Her grades weren’t the best and that volunteer therapy thing she did was really just to get her a little extra credit. If she failed that too, Mia was sure she’d have to redo her year and the look on her parents face if she had to give them that news, was something she’d rather avoid.
Hazel shot her sympathetic eyes, “Babe, hey… Not all people open up as easily, you know that. And also, you’ve just started this thing! It doesn’t mean you’re a shit therapist or that you’ve chosen the wrong degree, you just need more experience. I’m sure it won’t be your last client behaving like that… some people are just not meant for therapy.”
“I know.” Mia murmured, keeping her eyes low until she sighed again, shifting from one foot to the other, “Can I just… climb in bed for a minute? And cry a little bit? I won’t make much noise.”
Hazel exhaled and nodded quicker than Mia had assumed. Her hand worked on opening up her blankets and Mia exhaled in relief when she slowly padded over, carefully climbing into Hazel’s pink bed. She snuggled a little into the free pillow, avoiding Hazel’s look on her as the first tears came running down.
She couldn’t believe she still had seven sessions left with Harry. Well – eight. Maybe he had changed his mind after all, rather digging into his savings to pay for the expensive book case he broke than spend more time with Mia.
A gentle stroke of Hazel’s fingers through her hair was what made Mia cry a little harder. The disappointment in herself was one thing, but the disappointment that her parents would feel when they found out about this – was another.
She had to turn this around, she couldn’t just fail this subject too. Mia couldn’t fail.
She just couldn’t.