Behavioural Tutor

4 // Bad's Office

Tommy walked away, leaving Phil to run after him.

"Hold up! Where you you think you're going?" Phil grabbed Tommy's arm and turned him around to face him.

"Away from you."

"Hah! Good one. Not with that attitude you're not," Phil could see Tommy started wandering off again, so he just cut to the chase. "We're going to Bad, therapy is after lunch, in case you've forgotten."

Tommy growled, but made no attempt to escape. Better to get it over with he thought.

Phil tried to strike conversation once or twice, but he could clearly see Tommy was having none of it, so walked the rest of the way in silence.  After what felt like years to them, (but in reality was probably less than five minutes) they arrived at their destination.

It was a rather large office next to the library (a place Tommy had never visited and planned to keep it that way). The door was open, so Tommy had a clear view of what was inside.

There was a modest desk in the corner, with some books behind it. A soft, fluffy rug was in the centre, and the walls were covered in bunting and fairy lights. There were a couple of miscellaneous beanbags lying around, but apart from that the room seemed surprisingly tidy. Opposite the desk was a rather comfy looking sofa, and Tommy couldn't help but stare slightly.

A small chuckle snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Like what you see?" Bad politely asked, appearing in front of them.

Tommy snorted, and mumbled a quiet no, which only caused Bad to laugh more.

"Shut the fuck up."

Okay, that stopped him laughing. "Language, Tommy."

"LaNguAgE tOmMy!" Tommy mimicked Bad's high-pitch voice.

Phil sighed. "Sorry Bad... I was going to warn him about swearing around you, but I was too busy preventing him from harming other students." Phil stared directly at Tommy when the said the last part. If looks could kill, Tommy would be six feet under.

"Oh, well yeah that takes priority!" Bad tried to lighten the mood, but Tommy was having none of it.

"Don't be a bitch and make this harder than it already is." Tommy snarled back at Bad.

"Language!" Bad gave Tommy a glare, but ushered them in anyway, before continuing. "Welcome to your fist session with me! I'm Bad-"

"I know."

"Tommy don't be rude." Phil warned him.

Bad quickly smiled. "Anyway, I want you to think of this as a safe place, to let out all of your feelings." Tommy rolled his eyes. "I promise I won't share anything you tell me, unless absolutely necessary-"

"Don't get you hopes up. I'm not telling you anything anything." Tommy crossed his arms and looked away.

They all sat in silence for a good ten minutes.

"Okay I've got every thing I need, you can go now!" Bad cheerily broke the silence, after writing what looked like five pages of notes.

"What?" Tommy looked up from the floor, accidentally made eye contact with Bad, and stared back at the ground again.

"I've got all the notes I need. You made it very clear you didn't want to talk, and i don't want to force you, so I used your body language instead."

Tommy couldn't help but send Bad a quizzical look. Bad sighed, before flicking through the extensive pages of writing.

"Your arms were crossed, suggesting you were feeling defensive and threatened, but your breathing was normal, so you weren't frightened. You were looking at the floor, meaning you were uncomfortable with the situation, and you were tapping your foot, a seemingly normal gesture, but one that could be related to anxiety. But, since you didn't show any other signs of anxiety, I think you're okay, just impatient to leave and a bit freaked out by this situation. That's basically it, along with a couple other gestures, but I think you get the general idea."

Tommy was staring wide eyed at Bad's notes. How could he possible have concluded all that, without Tommy having to say a single word?

RRRRIIIIINNNNGGGGGGGGG

"Ah, that's the bell Tommy, let's go." Phil had to physically drag Tommy out of the office and down the halls to his next class. Tommy sort of went limp, and stayed in what looked like a daze of awe and amazement from Bad.

In reality, it was dread and fear. How could Bad just read him like that? What did he know about Tommy already? He said he had made other notes... what were they? What would Bad find out about him? Was he a human lie machine? Would he know when Tommy was lying? Tommy told lies a lot, some more obvious than others, but Bad could NOT know about Tommy's life. He wouldn't let him. He would just have to shut Bad out like he did everyone else - yeah that could work. Just shut him out; don't tell him anything. He was so close to recognising Tommy's anxiety, much closer than anyone before him. That couldn't happen again, thought Tommy. He would just have to-

"TOMMY!" Phil interrupted his thoughts. "Tommy are you even listening to me!?"

No. Why would he? Tommy had bigger, more important things to worry about than some annoying babysitter.

"Ah, finally your listening! I was trying to congratulate you for being well behaved... well... for not misbehaving with Bad." Tommy just shrugged. "Here - it's for you."

Phil was holding out what looked like a small piece of chocolate wrapped in sliver foil and a red rapper. Tommy looked up at Phil, who nodded, as if to say 'take it; you've earned it'. 

Tommy grabbed the bar out of Phil's outstretched hand, causing him to chuckle slightly. It was as if Tommy had never had a chocolate bar, he thought to himself.

Tommy looked at the small piece of food in his hand. It was just like the movies, he thought, though he'd never had one in real life - until now. Tommy gently unwrapped the delicious substance and popped it in his mouth. He cherished the flavours, and allowed it to melt on his tongue as it slowly disintegrated into nothingness. Okay: that was good, like really good. It was like nothing he had ever tasted before.

Phil chuckled and wrote something down in his small notebook.