A Beast With Beauty

Coffee

"We heard you screaming almost all the way from 7th grade hall. And Mrs. Clark said that you physically refused to leave the bathroom."

Casey just stared at the counselor silently, not willing to say a damn thing. Especially with the way the smell of coffee in Miss Wednesdays breath was bugging her. "Look- I've seen you enough times to know that you don't like sharing, especially since the Chris situation. But you can't keep letting yourself have outbursts like this! It doesn't have to be me, but you still have to share your problems with someone. Did you at least try writing in a notebook or a diary like we talked about?"

Casey's expression didn't change. "Well sure I talked about it, but still." The counselor corrected herself which didn't change anything. She continued to stare at her, with a glare yet eager look as she glanced at the clock here and then.

The counselor stared back before sighing in defeat, she did want to help the girl but she wasn't trained enough for this. Especially for her case. "Alright, okay... I know you won't go back to class even if I let you leave, so, how about I call your Da-" Her eyes widened and she leaned forward, clasping her hands together in a plea, "No, no, no, no! Don't call him, he's had enough of me already!" The counselor flinched in surprise and started questioning Casey's guardians if she panicked about another adult contacting them.

"... Okay, what about your stepmom? Would she be a better choice?" Casey squinted her eyes and became less panicked and more annoyed. "Okay just call my dad..."

"Alright thank you," Casey walked out the side doors of the school with her Dad, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and dread. Anger and exhaustion. "Yes, yes, have a nice day!" Her dad said as the door closed behind him. As it did her and her dad walked down the sidewalk into the school parking lot. Silent. He got his keys out of his coat pocket and unlocked the Porsche 911 car. Sliding himself in and settling down in the car's seats along with Cassidy beside him. The two sat there quietly as they both clicked their seat belts on, Casey setting her backpack on her lap and looking out the car window, her dad gripping the steering wheel tightly.

They weren't going anywhere, just sitting there with the car on in the parking lot. Her dad chose to break the silence first. "I can't focus on more than one thing at a time. So..." Casey glanced over at him but didn't turn away from the window. "Do you want to tell me what happens? Your side of the story?" She stayed quiet, getting a tight feeling in her chest and a boiling feeling like water in a pot on a stove in her stomach. "... Look y-you always listen to me rant when I'm upset, which you shouldn't because you're my child. I'm supposed to be taking care of you not the other way around, and that's been going on for a way too long and I don't care what you say I deserved that slap even if it was an accident."

He looked over at his daughter, who was still facing the window. Her quick breathing could be seen through the coat she was wearing. "So... Could you at least tell me what started today's freakout?" She remained quiet for a long minute, the silence and the engine being the only thing that either of them could hear. His shoulders slumped, believing that he failed as a parent if his first born that looked so much like his first deceased wife didn't want to talk about her issues.
He took a breath, in and slowly out. Holding back the tears that welded in his eyes as he drove the car out of the lot they were in and away from the school.

Casey picked up a magazine from the stack that read Healthy living. She flipped it over and back, before opening the pages and flipped through them. She read some of the words on the papers, but was mostly looking at the pictures of old people and landscapes.
A speaker turned on and a ladies voice was heard from it.

"B-2847, B-2847, to window seven please. Again, B-2847 to window seven please and thank you."

"Come on, let's go." Casey looked over her shoulder at her Father as he stood up from the waiting chairs. Casey quickly put the magazine back in the stack and followed after her father. She followed him to the row of wooden frames and plastic windows with holes in them. Walking up to one of them together, a cinnamon skinned lady with a yellowish white hijab and dark brown eyes with black cat eye glasses sitting on the other side of the window. She was writing on a clipboard and looked up at the two once she was done, resting her arms on the table.