I Unproudly Present ~ Harry Styles AU

Chapter 1

***WARNING: THIS STORY IS FOR A MATURE AUDIENCE. IT WILL HEAVILY CONTAIN SEXUAL/VIOLENT SCENES AND ADULT LANGUAGE***

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Jessie's POV

"Well Ms. Woods. since we are nearing the end of your last session here, I believe we should discuss you're new therapist, Dr. Tracey Martins. Your father tells me she is one of the best in the state of California..." I continue to ignore Dr. Rotvold as he goes on and on about this new "Tracy Martins" and how I need to continue to take my medications and blah blah blah. I've heard this all already, my dad and Janis have gone over it multiple times, I'm pretty sure I get it. I tap my ankles together to try to pass the time without attempting to kick Dr. Rotvold in the throat.

"Ms. Woods?" I look up from my feet to find Dr. Rotvold staring at me expectantly. Shit did he ask me something?

"What?" I ask. He sighs and leans back in his chair.

"Did you hear a word I just said?"

"Oh, I heard you, I just chose not to comprehend what you were saying." I state honestly. After all, I am supposed to be honest, according to Dr. Rotvold. I look over to the vintage clock hung on the pale beige wall to my right. I still do not understand the point of having a clock that tells the time using roman numerals. I have come to this same office every other week for the past 4 years and every time I check the time I am annoyed by these letters that are supposed to represent numbers. This is 2014, Dr. Rotvold. We have 3D printers and fucking Google glasses invented and you're mind is still stuck in the stone age. I have told him to get rid of it many times, but he always just changes the subject. I swear he has only kept that old thing just to piss me off. The time reads 5:41, my session ends at 5:45, but I really don't feel like sitting here any longer. Even if it is for just four minutes, Dr. Rotvold can make five seconds feel like five years whenever he speaks. I grab my bag from under my chair and stand up.

"Ms. Woods, Where do you think you're going?" I roll my eyes before pivoting my body to face the bearded old man. He has his fingers entwined and his chin resting on on the backs of his hands the way he always does.

"Uhhh, to my car..." I say, as if it wasn't obvious. A frown forms on his pale wrinkled face.

"I don't think so young lady, we still have three minutes left together. And what do we always do with the remainder of our time? We always meditate. We meditate beca-" I cut him off and restate the words I have heard far too many times over the years.

"Because during meditation, you focus your attention and eliminate the stream of jumbled thoughts that may be crowding your mind and causing stress. This process may result in enhanced physical and emotional well-being." His expression doesn't lighten one bit with my over exaggerated voice.

"I know, Dr. Rotvold. C'mon it's my last time here and it's not like I'll ever see you again. I promise I won't tell my dad on you." I attempt to joke. He sighs one of his famous dramatic sighs and removes the spectacles resting on the bridge of his nose.

"I suppose I can let this one slide." He smiles. I essay a friendly smile back, but it comes off as more of a bitchy 'yeah obviously' facial expression instead. I turn to leave, but just as I reach for the silver door handle, Dr. Rotvold stops me.

"Ms. Woods- Jessie," he corrects himself. "Hopefully this won't be the last time we see each other." He smiles.

"Dr. Rotvold, you don't need to pretend to worry about me, I'll be fine." I state before leaving the musky office and exiting out to Missouri's warm summer air. I walk down the sidewalk to my small red car and get in. I start the ignition and turn the radio up to full blast before beginning my twenty minute drive through the city of St. Louis back to my house.