The Quiet Types

Chapter 11

"You're unusually quiet," commented Dr. Felland as we sat in her office.

It literally felt like the months were getting shorter.

"Just don't really want to talk about anything today," I replied as I picked at my chipping nail polish.

My mom was insisting that we go get them done while we're here in New York for my appointment. She said nothing back home beat the nail salons here in New York.

"It's been a whole month. You don't want to talk about anything?" she asked.

I shook my head no.

"Come on, Lauren. Last visit you were telling me about a new friend you had made and how a boy asked you to homecoming. Did you end up going?"

"No," I answered shortly.

"You're not wearing a rubber band or hair tie. Are you feeling better?" she questioned.

"I forgot it today," I lied.

Eight new lines sat on my hip. Eight that have been reopened at least twice this month.

She nodded as she noted something on her notepad, "Lauren, I know Will's date is quickly approaching as we come close to the holidays. We'll be making a year of sessions next month. I feel as if you and I have grown together since our first together. We've had our good and our bad sessions, but overall we've made an impact in each other's life. Right?"

"I suppose," I agreed.

I would say anything at this point to go back to the silence we were sharing a few minutes ago.

"Your mom mentioned that you enjoyed the snow. Are you excited for it to fall soon?" she asked.

I took a deep breath, "Why are we talking about the weather?"

"Because you refuse to speak of anything else, Lauren. I mean we might as well talk about something if we're going to sit here for the next twenty-five minutes," she replied.

I rolled my eyes.

"Your mom mentioned that your friend, Theo, hasn't stopped by. She said he used to come at least once a week to come hang out. Did something happen?"

"We've just all been busy, okay? The semester is coming to an end and we all have finals to worry about. I really hate how my mom likes to insert herself into anything I do, whether that be therapy or my social life, she always seems to have something to say about it."

"That's because she loves you, Lauren. She wants to make sure you're going to be alright. Your mom and dad went through a scary thing a year ago when they found out you were doing things," she clarified.

My nails began to dig into my palm, "I was invisible until Naomi said something. They would have never known if she hadn't inserted herself into the situation. As far as they were concerned I was happy and being a normal teenager."

"Lauren, what are you saying? Is everything alright at home?" she asked.

"Everything is fucking fine. I'm just not in the mood to be discussing something we've discussed at least a half dozen times when I could be working on my final essay or lab for Physics. I want to be home, but instead, we drive four hours to come see you," I snapped as I stood up out of the chair, "I'm done today. I want to go home."

"Alright," she agreed and I stormed out of the office into the waiting room.

My mom looked up from her magazine puzzled. Dr. Felland exited shortly afterward and looked over at my mother.