Connor tapped his fingers anxiously on his thigh, staring right into Lisbug's eyes. She had her elbows on the desk, and her chin resting on her hands. She looked back at him expectantly. He opened his mouth, hesitated, groaned in frustration and closed it again. All with a frown displayed on his face.
"Well this was a lot easier in my head...", Connor thought to himself.
Certainly when Connor decided he was going to listen to Troye (for once) and go and talk with Lisbug about what was bothering him, he didn't consider the fact that he just doesn't enjoy talking to anyone about personal stuff. Let alone the guidance counselor. Sure, he had done so before, and very frequently with Troye as of late, but that didn't mean that it came up as easy to him anyhow. He had come with the intention of asking for advice, and he was going to leave empty handed.
Ms. Schwartz clearly knew something funny was going on, but she didn't seem to have the slightest intention of dragging a confession out of Connor. Instead she just waited, looking back at him. From time to time, when he seemed to be about to say something, she raised her eyebrows and perched up a little, hopeful to witness progress with her student. However, Connor didn't fail to back down every single time. Connor was grateful he couldn't read minds, because he bet that if he did then he'd realize she was already out of patience.
But where to begin? Hello, it's me, Connor Franta, the foster kid you're supposed to be advising and mentoring into not ending up in teenager prison? The one who is always mean and rude to you, and who doesn't waste a second in being sarcastic whenever he gets the chance? I'd like help? Please?
Connor scowled at the very thoughts of the dialogue displayed on his mind. He hated pity, and didn't want for a single second to appear to be asking that of her. But there wasn't a single scenario in which he didn't see himself looking nothing but sorry asking for her counsel, and feeling distraught from his ongoing silent treatment with Mikey and lack of sleep.
But then, he remembered that at first, he was far from sorry and distraught. When he first found out Mikey had gone to the counselor behind his back, he was angry. Angry at him, and at her for taking advantage of that information. And that, he could use.
He clenched a fist under the table, resolved to confront her instead of coming out as helpless. Grimacing strongly, he looked up to the counselor and spoke up.
-"You said once that between you and me there weren't supposed to be any tricks or games. Isn't digging information out of my foster brother just that?"
Lisbug raised her eyebrows, but not in satisfaction; in surprise. She clearly did not expect a confrontation. The shock went away after a brief moment, and then she took out her notepad and pen, and got ready for the documentation about what surely had to be the juiciest counseling session she had with Connor thus far.
-"Well, I didn't ask Mikey for any information."—she replied confidently—"I have been trusting you with telling me what you feel appropriate this entire time, Connor. He came to me, concerned about you. About you not sleeping."
Connor groaned again, and crossed his arms, like a pouting child. He didn't want to hear that side of the story again.
-"What difference does that make? Sending me away to do social labor does not make me sleep any better."—Connor said—"Besides; isn't there like a policy or something about confidentiality between you and me?"
-"Naturally."—she responded—"Do you think I told Mikey anything about what you and me have talked? Of course not. And that's the very same reason why I didn't tell you about him coming here either; the same rules that apply to you apply to every other student in this school."
YOU ARE READING
Algid (#TronnorAU)
Random"Let me tell you the story, about what happens when a heart as cold as ice meets one made of gold." What happens to the things that nobody can remember? Are they forgotten? Did they mean anything at all? Did they even exist at some point? All his li...
