WAKE (Wattpad edition)

15. Hear (withdrawal sucks).

Soundtrack: 'Lost in my mind- The Head and the Heart

{Cary}

Miss B.'s office door was the same institutional green as all the other classroom doors in the building. It was partly open, so Cary knocked and went in. The smell of vanilla and honey filled the room, and a lamp on the desk with a printed scarf over the shade made up for the lack of window. This office was bare compared to the room where they had met at King George-he guessed she wasn't here every day. But there was a comforting jumble of familiar objects on her desk: a beeswax candle, a pair of earrings looped together, a handful of shells and smooth stones, and a small Lego figure he thought was Harry Potter holding a wand.

Miss B. looked up and smiled when she saw him. A bright scarf barely held her puff of hair in check, and her lips were a shocking shade of pink today-so bright they made Cary blink.

"Cary, sit down. Good to see you here."

There was one squishy armchair among the assortment of office chairs, and he dropped into it. "Hey, Miss B." Usually he waited for her question, whatever she wanted to talk about today.

"How are you settling in back here?"

He shrugged, taking a short breath. He'd been able to stay on the surface of things all day, avoiding thoughts about his mom or Liam, or anything deeper than getting his course schedule and finding his locker. But he knew her well enough to know he wouldn't be able to continue that here.

"Do you do adults-as well as kids, ever?" he asked.

"You mean, do I have clients I counsel who are adults? Yes, a few."

He put his eyes on the top corner of the room, where it was safe and blank. "I want to talk about my mom."

There was a pause. He'd never offered to talk about anything before.

"What would you like to talk about?" she asked.

He fished around for where to start. "I guess you might not know-he hurt her sometimes. Too. And I think she...was afraid a lot. She got kind of-" He rubbed the side of his face, frustrated. He could see it, but he couldn't think of the words-like a doll, lovely and fragile and hollow.

"Do you want to draw it?" Miss B. asked.

"No," he said shortly. He was going to need to learn how to use words for the trial. "She made-a shell. A pretend place she lived where we were happy. So she wouldn't have to see-me. Getting hurt." He stretched his shoulders back, his chest tight and painful. "I think she is coming out of that? When I saw her yesterday, it seemed like she was more of a real person." He closed his eyes a moment, remembering her smile as she crossed the patio toward him. Like she really saw him. The gap in his front yawned open and he crossed his arms tightly over it. "I don't think it's going to work for us-even with that. There's so much-so much shit behind us. I don't think she can. Love me." He tried to squeeze his chest closed, to squeeze past that thought. "She says she's seeing a counsellor and...she has Liam. And I want to know...if you think...if she can be a mom to him. That she wasn't to me."

"Can you tell me about seeing her yesterday?" Miss B. probed gently.

He pushed his feet against the floor, ducking his face away from her. He was going to break in here if he talked about that. "What for?"

"It might help you to talk about it."

He made a dismissive noise.

"It would help me," Miss B. said. "You're asking a thoughtful question and I'd like to give you a thoughtful answer. I don't make quick judgements about people-you know that."