Flower Boy (BoyxBoy)

lviii

kevin.

TODAY WE SAT IN OUR REGULAR CLASSROOM INSTEAD OF THE COMPUTER LAB. Class began loudly in student conversation until Professor Moore cleared his throat and clapped his hands once to get our attention. We all looked forward, instantly silent.

"Your essay is due in two days," he announces. The mood in the classroom almost instantly changes as students toss their heads back and sigh. Professor Moore laughs heartily at our dismay. "Hey, hey, don't be like that! I'm sure these past two months have been pretty lax, but I hope that the extra time was used wisely to perfect and finish your essay."

As he walks around the room, he stops in front of my desk and taps it with his pointer and middle fingers. He glances at me as he says, "I'm looking forward to reading your illness-analysis essays."

We all stare blankly at him, unsure what he wants from us. After a few seconds clears his throat and claps his hands together. "Alright, let's circle-up. I want to discuss your thoughts."

Everyone rolls their eyes as they stand to shift their desks to the shape of a circle. Professor Moore was a high school teacher before he came here; he taught for a few years at a school in Ontario, Canada, his birth place.  Apparently his AP students enjoyed it, so he decided to bring it to us as well. Professor brings a desk of his own into the perimeter of our circle and allows us to settle before he begins the first discussion topic.

"Tell me what you thought," he suggests. After a few seconds of silence, Sabrina clears her throat. Everyone stares at her.

"It was interesting," she admits. "Having a real person kinda made it feel more important."

Most of the class nods and hums in agreement.

Katie raises her hand. "I didn't like it at all. It was way more intense than I thought it would be—even the therapist was speechless sometimes!"

I'm usually pretty quiet in this class, but I love debating. I nod my head to what I hear Katie saying and decide to interject quickly after she's finished talking. "It was kinda invading. These people were spilling their guts, and we were just using them as a thesis for our essay."

The guy next to me—John—scoffs. "Guys, you're thinking way too much into it. I liked being able to listen to a real person and learning how to respond correctly. It's not like we threatened them into it—they're-they're like cadavers, y'know? And we're holding the scalpel."

"Very interesting analogy," Professor Moore hums. "Did the rest of you feel like it was an invasion of privacy? Or that this was unethical?"

Sabrina sighs. "Okay, maybe it's just that it was too personal. It was good insight into what being a therapist is actually like, though. It just sucks that I know everything about my patient and I can't even thank her properly for being my 'cadaver'."

"Maybe we should thank them," Prof suggests. "Why don't you all write a little thank you letter and attach it to your essay? On Monday when you hand it in, I'll have them delivered."

"Is this optional?" Caleb, a linebacker on our football team, asks.

Professor hums. "No," he smiles, content with himself. "It would be nice for all of your patients to know how grateful you are for their courage."

My peers nod and smile at the idea. I think Caleb and I are the only ones not excited about the new addition to our assignment.

After some more conversation about nothing interesting, Professor changes the subject. "What surprised you about your patient's illness or mannerisms?" He asked.

I take a few seconds to think about that question. What surprised me about Edd? His honesty throughout the sessions? His cooperation? I don't know if those were very surprising; that's just who Edd is. He's not the type to lie about his condition or why he's in therapy—especially not to the person he's paying to help him. I pan my brain for more adjectives that I can use to describe Edd during his sessions. Quiet? Passionate? Suddenly, a light bulb lights up in my head.