It Started with a Bet... (Watty Awards 2011)

"You two know each other?"

Chapter 14: “You two know each other?”

It’s him. My therapist. Oh my god. I feel my face freeze like it does whenever I’m around him. Thankfully, Trevor is behind me and doesn’t see.

“You know each other?” Trevor’s dad is surprised. Dr. Thornton smiles.

“Yeah! Haley was my very first patient when I was working on my thesis. She was something special.” He looks me up and down and smiles. “She was the only one out of my trial group that responded positively to the Forget Therapy I developed. Definitely something.”

 Dad smiles. “Well, I’ll leave you two to catch up.” He leaves, pushing Trevor out with him. Mom must not be home yet. Dr. Thornton leads me to the couch.

“Well, how are you, Haley?”

“Fine, as usual. How are you?” He ignores the question.

“I mean, really, Haley. When Jason told me he knew a girl with a problem, I never thought it would be you. Did something happen?”

I shake my head, my eyes taking in the balding head, pale skin, and beady eyes behind tortoise-shell glasses.

“I’ve been fine. I think they’re just concerned about the fact that my parents aren’t home any more. They haven’t been for a few months now, so I guess they want to make sure I haven’t slipped back at all. It’s nice of them, really.” My face has gone slack, no emotion on my face. I’ve done this so many times before that it’s kind of like I’m on autopilot.

“I’m glad you’re okay, but I think we should meet and talk every once in a while until I’m sure you’re all right. It’ll be just like old times. Remember those outings we used to have? Those were so much fun.”

Oh, yes. So much fun. After being the “scary Haley” at school, I was seen walking down the regular hang-out avenue with a balding nerd in tow. That was how “psychotic Haley” was born. Sure, it didn’t last long. The stares and laughs soon became cheers and thumbs-ups as “charity case Haley” took over everyone’s mind. So much fun.

We talk for about an hour. He asks questions. I answer. How is school? (fine.) How often do I think about Trina? (never.) How many friends do I have? (five or ten.) How often do I go out? (once or twice a week.) Do I have a boyfriend? (No.)

“Why not?” I shrug.

“I haven’t really found a guy I like yet.”

“When was your last date?” I shrug. Does The Bet really count as a date? I’ve been lying to him so far, so what’s it matter? Unfortunately, I’ve been silent for too long.

“Haley, it’s been five years, hasn’t it?”

“Three.” Three years, I think. I broke up with Nick a year after Trina’s death.

“And you broke up with him because of Trina, if I remember correctly.” Damn him. Damn me for trusting him. I just shrug.

“Haley, you really need to move past Trina. You’ve made great strides, and I’m proud of you, but you’re subconsciously holding back. You need to let go, date a guy or two. Okay?” Or two? I look at the pathetic loser in front of me up and down. What does he know about dating a person or two? Does he even know you’re supposed to go one at a time?

Finally, he says he has an appointment and gets up to leave.

“It was nice seeing you, Dr. Thornton,” I lie. He smiles.

“Nice to see you, too. What do you say we have a little outing sometime next week? We still have some work to do, I think.” I sigh and collapse against the door once he’s gone. Damn him. Trevor bounds down the stairs.

“Who’s the douche?”

I shrug.

“A therapist friend of your dad’s. Where is your dad anyway, I have to thank him for thinking of me.” I thought Trevor would see through the act, but he doesn’t. He peers out the window and into the driveway.

“I think he went to go pick up my mom. They’re going grocery shopping together for some reason. Wait. What’s Corey doing pulling into your driveway?” I peer through the window. Holy…

I run into the back yard, clamber over the fence, and thank God that I keep the key to the house around my neck. I’ve just combed my hair with my fingers when the doorbell rings.

“Hey, Corey, what’s up?” He shrugs, swishing his dark hair out of his eyes with a finger. The light reflects off his leather jacket, turning his dark hair a brilliant reddish brown color. His eyes seem to sparkle.

“…….what do you say?”

“Eh?” Damn it! I totally spaced out. I get annoyed with myself. The more I gush over Corey in my head, the more I seem to lose sight of everything else around me. Which is bad. I steel my resolve and prepare to throw him out.

“I was asking if you’d like to go down to the mall with me.” I’m about to say thanks but no thanks when Dr. Thornton’s ‘advice’ rings in my ears. If I go out more, will he let me off the hook?

“Sure. Looking for anything specific?” He scratches his head.

“I didn’t think Spike would be much into shopping, but I do need some help finding my way around. I mainly need a new pair of jeans.” He gestures to the torn pair he’s wearing.

“You know torn is ‘cool,’ right?” I ask. He shrugs.

“I find it uncomfortable. Where would I get guys’ jeans?” It dawns on me as to exactly how boring this could end up being. Should I invite Trevor? Then I realize that my job will essentially be to go from store to store, and stare at Corey in a variety of different outfits. You know, it may not be that bad…

“Um, we can just go and see what we find.” Corey holds the car door open for me as I slip into the passenger’s seat. The front wheel barely leaves the driveway before I get a text.

Where are you going? It’s Trevor.
To the mall. Corey needs a new pair of jeans.
He couldn’t take Spike?
Is someone feeling jealous?
I don’t trust him.
Relax. It’s not like I’m falling for him. You know I’m not capable of that.
What time will you be back?
Awwww. Is someone gonna miss me?
No answer.

“So is America living up to your expectations?” I ask Corey.

“Well, I didn’t really have too many expectations, but it’s more fun than I thought it would be.”

He turns to smile at me. God, what a toothpaste commercial smile.

“What’s your favorite thing about the US?” He just winks at me.

“The people.” I feel myself blush before I can help it. Normally that would just be a standard answer, but the wink and slight smile that plays on his lips…I mentally slap myself. I don’t like him I’m just appreciating his artistic value. Way too much. Corey opens the door for me once we get to the first public parking area. The drive into LA proper isn’t long but once you get there, it’s faster to walk. As I step out of the car, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket.

Yes.

“What’s up?” Corey asks, looking at my face. It’s frozen, I presume, because I’m not sure how to respond to Trevor’s text. I snap the phone shut and push it back into my pocket.

“Nothing. I just got a text from my mom reminding me to be home by 5:30.” Corey glances at his own cell phone.

“So we got an hour and a half,” he says. He smiles at me, but I don’t feel any butterflies.

“That’ll work.”

Why I lied to him, I don’t know. Why it took me a good half hour before I thought he was gorgeous again, I don’t know. One thing I do know is that Corey looks damn good in Levi’s.

[....please read the author's note below. I think it's important...]

___________________________________________________________________________________

Children, I think it's time we had a little chat...
Don't worry, it has nothing to do with birds, bees, amoebas, or any other reproducing organisms. This is just a chat about wattpad...

Now, one of stereotypes about artists is that they can be very tempremental: operating in some emotional world the average human being (like us) can't hope to understand. Now I don't know if it's true, but if it is, I've found that writers can be tempremental too. It's so hard to know what we want! Some writers on wattpad don't want feedback. They want votes, they want encouraging comments, but they don't want you to say "you did the dialogue wrong."

So, I'm just going to give you a lowdown about what I would like to expect from you guys:
1) I LOVE feedback. I hope to one day be a published author (hopefully with this very story) and if you ever find that even the smallest thing is a little too unrealistic, let me know! For instance, this chapter is dedicated to italianmonkeys because she so kindly hinted that Haley jumps to calling Trevor's parents "Mom" and "Dad" a little too easily for her taste. So constructive criticism is what I live for. At the same time, I love spazzings like "aww. Trevor so jealous :)" and "HOMG, I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT HAPPENED, I NEARLY PUNCHED MY COMPUTER SCREEN OUT!!!!!" <---There are chapters where I just live for that. So do give me some :)

2) voting is your perogative. I personally don't like this rule. Hell, I'm human. I would like to make it so everyone who reads this chapter must vote/comment on it, simply because....I don't know...I'm greedy? And I really like feedback. (see #1). But, at the end of the day, I have to keep reminding myself that voting and commenting is up to you guys. If you like the chapter enough to vote, I trust that you will. This is different, I guess, from a lot of other authors, and it runs counterintuitive to my own personality, but I'm going to try to keep it that way. Only when I need motivation to get off wattpad will I make voting mandatory for the next chapter to go up. But I will have little "extra credit" kind of voting opportunities for you guys as well.

3) book covers, book trailers, promoting my story yourself, all gets you super love from me and a dedication. This, again, is totally up to you guys, but only super special people do it and I love you guys for it :)

I think that's all...Now thanks to all you amazing fans, we are now at #260 in the What's Hot List. I would LOVE for us to make it into the 100s, so can we try that? I have 109 of you amazing fans, which means that I could potentially get 100 or so votes per chapter now. Of course, in accordance with Rule #2, I'm not going to threaten to kill my story or anything if you don't vote, but currently I have about 20 amazing people who vote on each chapter, and I would love for that number to go up :)