Ember Kate

Chapter:: Eleven

The fourth therapist I tried was Dr. Mueller. He seemed like he was going to last a while, partly because he confessed on the first day that he was a recovering alcoholic. I told him I was the same, but not recovering. We both had a laugh about it.

The first session wasn’t awkward like the others; we just pushed through our hellos and intros. The refreshing part was that he wanted to get right down to what was wrong with me and how he could help, although I believe he is trying to be subtle about it. After the hour long session, Locklan picked me up. I guess sometime after the kiss we decided to go out before I had to move back into my own house. So now Locklan and I were dating. It was different. He slept over at my house sometimes, sneaking in through the window while my parents lay in their bed, unknown to the man in my room.

It also meant that he picked me up and dropped me off to Mueller’s office. It seemed like every date we went on he was still trying to prove to me why I should stay here another day. It worried me and kept me up at night to think that I was the reason he was trying too hard. It shouldn’t be like that for him. But instead, I’m making him fear that I’ll go out of this world the same way as his mother. And honestly, I couldn’t comfort his silent fears too much, because I still felt urges.

 It was a dull ache, something I should have been able to bury down. Yet something told me not to dismiss it so quickly. Although going to the top of a cliff to jump might not be considered burying it. After every appointment, Locklan would drive me up a hill where the sun would be going down in two hours. We made an event of it, picking up food from a fast food place or he would pack a picnic.

“So how are the appointments going?” Locklan asked casually, although there was an edge to his voice.

“Good,” I shrug. “I guess he could help me figure it out.” I eat another bite of the subway sandwich we split, watching the sun slowly make its way down.

“Well that’s great, at least it’s not a complete waste.” I looked over at him and I felt this barrier between us come up, like I couldn’t reach him. It was weird, like we don’t have anything to talk about and that we’re on two different planets.

I need to break it, so I set the sandwich down and scoot closer to him. I have to cross the gap between our seats, so I end up on his lap. Luckily he finished his sandwich so he wasn’t angry. He had this look in his eyes, but didn’t say anything as I put my legs on either side of him and just hugged him. He slowly started to pat my back, like maybe he wasn’t sure I would start crying or if he touched me too hard then I would burst. It almost made me laugh, except that I contained myself.

“I’m sorry,” I settle on telling him as I climb out of his lap and back into my own seat, I find a blush setting my cheeks on fire.

“For what?” he sounds sleepy, like I just woke him up from a nap.

“Nothing,” I tell him while leaning closer and running my hand through his curly hair. “I’m just tired.”

“Want to go back to yours?” he asks as he starts the car up. I shake my head a little but he doesn’t see. I’m not that kind of tired.

“Sure,” I tell him as he pulls away from the hill with the darkened sky.

~

When he pulls around the corner from my house, I quickly run down the street to my house and walk through the front door. Once I see my father, with a drink in his hand and watching some Law & Order show, I make my way to my room to let Locklan in.

We don’t say anything as I turn my light off, take my shirt and shorts off while he takes his shirt off, handing it to me to sleep in. Slipping his pants off, he slides into my double bed next to the wall. After we get comfortable by wrapping our arms and legs around each other, he starts quoting poetry to me.

As I lay there wrapped in Locklan’s arms, I realize I haven’t had a drink in a week. It wasn’t like I was avoiding it. I think I just got scared by John, and I haven’t wanted to drink since.

“You know, sometimes I feel like you’re babysitting me.” I interrupt him as he was mumbling a poem by Walt Whitman. Not knowing where this came from, I realize with a start that this is how I feel. Like he’s a babysitter full time and I’m a kid who has to stay away from the sharp objects in the kitchen.

“What do you mean?” His eyebrows pull together. I want to pull my hair out in frustration.

“Do you even really like me?” I roll over and detach myself from him. “I feel like this is just . . . I don’t know. It doesn’t feel real. Why do I deserve you? What do you get from me?”

“Ember, get over here. You aren’t making any sense. Where did this come from?” he wrestles with the sheets while I make my way across my room and to the window, looking out at a street light. I wrap my arms around myself, convinced that if he touches my arm gently like he does then I will definitely lose my mind.

“I just need to get out of here for a few days.” This sentence, again, pops out of my mouth without me thinking about it. It, yet again, explains exactly how I’m feeling. I need to leave him, leave this town, but go where? “I probably have family somewhere . . .”

“Ember,” he hesitates before grabbing my arm gently. “Do you need me to go with you? You aren’t making any sense, it’s scaring me.”

“No, no. I need to go alone. I’ll see you in a few days.” I pull a bag down from my closet and shove my clothes in it. “You should probably leave; I’m just going to pack from here.” When I suggest this to Locklan, he doesn’t move. He’s frozen in the middle of the room. I don’t spare him a second glance or even a first one as I back my warmer clothes in my knapsack. He’s still standing there when I open my door to go ask my parents where I can stay, who will take me.

I go to ask them how I can run out of here, as fast as I can, and leave without a goodbye kiss to Locklan.