She's A Hurricane

Chapter Sixteen

Today was the day for something I had been terrified of since the moment I'd arrived. Greg had decided it was finally time to start with our first therapy session. He had a small secluded room located at the back of the house, with a weird bed and two ancient arm chairs placed it in. Basically the typical kind of therapy offices you see in movies. I didn't like it at all. It put me on edge just being in there, but Greg tried to make things more comfortable.

"Want some tea?" He asked, fiddling around with his little drinks machine he so happened to have in the corner. I shook my head,

"No thanks"

"Fair enough" He shrugged, pouring himself one in a light blue mug. I scanned around the room in a bored manner. I didn't want him to catch on that I was nervous. I always had to maintain a deadpan look because that was who I was. And although I liked Greg, I didn't think I was ready to spill all my secrets to him just yet.

He carried his mug of tea with both hands and slumped down in the cushy armchair opposite me. He shot me a reassuring look and sipped his drink.

"I decided not start these sessions as soon as you arrived because I wanted you to get to know me first... It's easier to talk to someone you feel comfortable around, ain't it?"

"I suppose" I replied moodily. Being moody was the best way of hiding my nerves. It was sort of like a defence mechanism. It's what I had always done and I wasn't going to change that for Greg, whether I liked him or not.

"So tell me about yourself"

"Eh?" I said, scrunching up my nose in confusion.

"Tell me about yourself..." He repeated, not sounding annoyed in any way.

"You already know me enough..."

"No I don't... I only know what your mum has told me about you, but I wanna hear it from your point of view" Greg explained with a comforting tone to his voice. I wondered what exactly my mum had told him about me. I suppose he knew the basics, like about the smoking and breaking in and stealing.

I fiddled with my fingers anxiously in my lap. Where did I even begin? What exactly did he want to know? I didn't exactly feel like revealing anything to him. He didn't need to know about my business. I didn't want him to know.

"What's the point of all this?"

"I wanna know everything that goes on inside your head... so that I can help..." He attempted to smile warmly, placing his mug down on the small wooden coffee table in front of him, "How about we start with your favourite music... I already know you like Come on Eileen." He was almost as frustrating as Jamie.

"I don't like it... I said it was alright" I argued,

"Same thing."

I didn't like the therapist side of Greg. He was too smug and tried too hard to be all mysterious and deep. Wanting to know everything that happened in my head and writing down my thoughts? That was just extremely daunting and weird for me. I didn't like it at all.

"I guess... I like old music..." I said cautiously, eyeing him up to watch his reaction.

"Hey, the 80s isn't old" Greg chirped, holding a hand to his chest as though he was wounded. This caused the faintest of smiles to tug on my lips, but I didn't let it show much.

The look on his face told me he wanted me to continue. I inhaled deeply and sat forward,

"Not just the 80s though... stuff like, Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, The Beatles..."

"The Beatles, eh? I didn't have you down as a pop girl" He grinned, one eyebrow raised into his forehead.

I shrugged noncommittally and relaxed back into the armchair. I didn't see the point of any of this. How did my music tastes have anything to do with my disruptive behaviour? I didn't listen to Led Zeppelin and then go out and steal something. That would be mental.