Chapter 14

***

"No smirking, no snorting, no sighing."

"Am I allowed to inhale air in my lungs?"

"Only at an even pace, and not too loud."

He laughs. "Jesus, Mia I'm not a wild animal. I can sit in an hour of therapy without being a distraction."

It's been merely two hours since I've left my mom's apartment, during which I've driven around town, blasting Eminem, screaming my lungs off.

Highly therapeutic, I professionally recommend.

No way in hell was I going to let my issues interfere with the clients'. And absolutely no chance of Jake ever seeing me in a complete loss of control.

I already slipped up when we met outside the Therapy Center just five minutes ago, though I had mastered my best smile, the instant Jake's authentic, warm grin appeared in my vision, something in my facade faltered and he took notice.

So I've been trying to avoid the situation by nagging him about being quiet and so far it seems to be working.

He's seated on my left side, legs splayed by the bench and back leaned against the window, unfairly rugged and handsome, and totally oblivious of it.

"I can't believe you failed the midterm just to do this."

He shoots an innocent smile. "What can I say, I'm just fascinated by your work."

"I can't wait to hear all about it in your twenty page report."

"What?" His smile drops. "I really have to do that? But I failed on purpose."

I smirk. "Sounds like a personal problem."

"Wow." He shakes his head and looks down to pull out a notebook from his backpack along with a pen.

"No notes. It's an ethical code violation, didn't you read the syllabus?" I make a tsk sound and smile when he glares under his lashes.

We're interrupted by a soft knock on the door, and I shift in my white chair with determination. "Come in."

A fourteen-year-old slim figure walks in, skin translucent and brushed with freckles, auburn hair straight and long, draped in an oversized green sweater. I smile at Molly, my patient for the last six months.

Then in walks a tall blonde woman I've never met before, but unfortunately heard a lot about. Enough to know she's only here because Molly put her on the spot in front of her new husband and she couldn't say no without dropping the expensive veil of her narcissism.

~

"Natalie, what made you send that text message to Molly's boyfriend?" I ask the unapologetic woman who's lounging on the sofa across from me like she's being interviewed for a fashion magazine.

A chuckle. "What's the big deal? You make it sound like I'm flirting with my daughter's fourteen year old boyfriend. It was just an innocent joke."

"It wasn't to me." Molly fidgets with her hands, voice gentle. "It was humiliating, and it made him uncomfortable."

"Ugh, Molly I don't know where you get your melodramatic personality from? Why do you have to make my life so difficult all the time?"

I look at the bitch. "How about instead of making accusations, you show curiosity and seek to understand her point of view?"

Natalie exhales as if to brush me off her shoulder. When she doesn't make eye contact with Molly, I make sure to show her a supportive smile at least from my end.

Molly speaks. "I wish you wouldn't try to outshine me on everything. I wish you'd say you're proud of me when I tell you that I did something, instead of trying to top it-"

Another chuckle. "I'm doing that so you know that nothing in life is going to come easy. I'm doing that so you become stronger, so you can be the best one day."

"I don't want to be the best, I just want to be me," Molly emphasizes, and I press my lips to stop from yelling 'you go girl.' "Why can't that be enough?"

"Ugh, you're just like your father, lazy and unmotivated. But I refuse to let my daughter become such a failure. I'm your mother, I know what's best for you."

"So you're saying you can't a-accept me because I'm not good enough?"

Natalie scoffs in horror. "How dare you. Is this what you brought me here for? To make a joke out of me? What kind of a daughter does that to her own mother, Molly? We couldn't discuss this at home?"

I jump in. "Actually it's incredibly brave of Molly to open up to you about her feelings, it's something to consider as a huge step in progress." I turn to Molly with a confirming smile. "You should be proud of yourself. I know it took so much from you to do this."

Natalie sighs, rolling her eyes. "Oh come on. This is the reason why kids grow up so spoiled and selfish. It's nonsense like this that makes her blame me for trying to love her."

My heart rate and temperature rise, and for a moment I'm at a loss for words. No, please don't let this affect you. Not right now. Molly needs you. Please.

"I'm afraid that if you don't see a problem in your relationship with your daughter, then you shouldn't be here. Molly's my patient and I have to prioritize her well-being." I look at Molly.

Her eyes pierce back with hope and desperation. "I think that's a good idea."

"Of course you do." Natalie snorts, a sly smirk on her botox lips as she stands up and clicks her heels out the door. She slams it, making Molly flinch. I take a deep breath, and even Jake releases a sigh beside me.

Her frail body is curled into a protective ball, eyes glazed with disassociation and despair.

"Are you here?" I ask, though my throat is thick with the personal irony at the question. Am I here? What a fraud. How can you pretend to help her when you can't even help yourself?

"I don't know, my mind is throwing daggers at me," she responds.

"I know, but it might help to remember... " I murmur. "You're in an emotional flashback. You're triggered to regress into a younger self where you feel helpless and alone. But you're not alone now, and you're older, and you're in a safe place. Right?"

Her breathing is erratic and she nods while rocking back and forth. "Yes, but I feel like I'm drowning in a black hole..."

I cross my arms with each hand on the opposite shoulder. "Let's put our arms around ourselves and do that tapping exercise. Gentle taps, there you go. Good. Let's take a deep, deep inhale. And exhale, slow. Good, again."

Her body goes still for a moment as her eyes close, having done this exercise before. She knows that releasing these suppressed emotions was the only way to feel better, so I expect the loud cries before they even happen.

"I'm a horrible daughter. I'm horrible. I hate myself." Tears stream down her small, undeserving cheeks, and I grip the side table beside me.

"What makes someone a horrible daughter?"

"S-someone...who ma-makes...her mother unhappy..."

"What do you do to make her unhappy?"

"I-I...I tell her I don't like when she makes fun of me in front of my friends, when she laughs at me and calls me stupid."

"Does standing up for yourself when someone makes fun of you make you horrible?"

"Um....no...?"

"Does standing up for yourself when someone laughs at you make you horrible?"

"No..."

"Does standing up for yourself when someone calls you stupid make you horrible?"

"No."

"Then are you a horrible daughter?"

Molly opens her eyes as the storm in them starts to calm, and for a moment we're connected and strong, but suddenly we both jump in our seats when the door bursts open.

"Might I remind you that I pay for this fucking therapy and if you have an ounce of respect in your body you wouldn't spend my money talking shit about me. Let's go. Now." Natalie snaps.

"Get up now or I'll cut your allowance and you'll never set foot here again, I don't care what your father says." Then she looks at me and raises an eyebrow. "Please go ruin someone else's life and don't push your pathetic issues on others."

Everything happens too quickly to respond, the ringing in my ears, the shuddering fever across my skin, the nauseating ache in my abdomen. Before I can look up to say anything, Molly's out the door and it's shut behind them.

I hear Jake call my name, but it's an echo, and I finally remember that he's here. Just a couple of minutes. I just need to hold on a couple of minutes to make sure that Natalie and Molly will be gone and then I can leave.

Except now Jake's kneeling in front of me, and I can't hide. Not unless I crouch in the corner with my hands covering my face, but I'm not alone in my apartment. I can't do that. What type of a therapist can't even heal herself? I'm a fucking joke. I fucking hate myself.

"Mia? Please, please talk." He tries, which only makes it worse. Only confirms the terrifying and unfitting state he's witnessing me in. So I grab my purse and bolt out the door, breath in my throat.

Parking lot. Get to the parking lot.

He calls after me, quietly, discreetly as I walk out of the building and go to the dim fluorescent parking lot, cold with sparse vacant cars. My legs can't go fast enough.

"Please leave me alone."

"Hold on." He takes my wrist in his hand. "Don't leave like this."

"I'm fine."

"You're not. Stop. Stop hiding from me. You don't have to hide from me."

"You stop! Stop telling me what to do! It's none of your business!"

He grabs my shoulders and spins me to face him, dipping his head to meet my eyes. But I refuse. I won't.

"Mia, it's ok. You're upset, it's ok. You're allowed to feel this way."

"Stop!" I shout, pushing against him, adrenaline gushing. "Just stop talking!"

"No, you need to hear that it's ok. I need you to know it's ok."

Tears choke my voice, I feel so small. "Please...please stop."

"I won't stop. It's ok. It's ok, you hear me?"

Sobs break out, my body folds, my legs loosen. I open my mouth but only cries come out. Cries that rip me in shame.

"It's ok...it's ok. It's ok." Jake's arms wrap around me. My entire body is in his hold, his chin on top of my head, my face in his chest, soaking his shirt with snot, spit, and tears.

~

"Feeling better?"

"Mm."

"You cried a lot."

"I know. Your shirt looks disgusting."

He chuckles. "Thanks."

I crack a small smile. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be. I knew you were a cry baby from the moment I met you."

I laugh. "You're an asshole. You made me cry. I was fine."

"But you feel better." His smile holds an unreadable expression that warms me inside.

~

We've been in his car for the last hour, which has been filled with a series of cries, holds, comforts, and chuckles. At some point our stomachs began to growl and I suppose after an explosion like that, we had to at least end the night with a meal.

"What are you in the mood for?" he asks, and I'm reminded of the first time he asked me that at the club. Though it feels like ages ago.

"I could go for some In-N-Out and Animal Fries right now."

He smiles. "You got it."

"But I'm paying."

"Please, it's the least you can do after all the crying."

"Shut up!" I laugh.

We stop by a drive through, wait in a ridiculously long line of cars, and put in our orders with a background of Sinatra singing in the speakers.

Somehow, the stars sparkle a little bit brighter.

He parks on a hill of million dollar houses just so we get a view of the city while we eat in the car, and I make a note of how he's not even concerned that I might spill some sauce on his fancy car's leather seats. I eat like a pig.

When my mouth is burning from chillies and my stomach is stuffed with junk, I lean back with a sigh and an inevitable smile. This is nice.

"I'm never doing shadow hours again. It was a horrible idea." I say.

"It's tough. And you don't even get paid enough."

"Yeah." I say dryly. "Not even close."

"But you seem passionate about it."

"Yeah." I say quietly, looking ahead at the thousands of lights.

"Hey." His voice pulls me to him, his eyes are warmer than the colors in the horizon. "You're really incredible, you know that?"

My breath hitches and my eyebrows bunch up, then I blink and shift away. I listen to the drum in my ribcage for a moment, trying to understand it.

"So are you."

"Mia."

"Hm?" I look at him, and his face is serious.

"I want to take you out on a date." The corners of his lips lift softly.

"Are you nuts? We can't."

He chuckles. "Yes, we can. We just have to be smart about it."

"Absolutely not." I shake my head. "Not going to happen."

"Well the school is too risky, but I want to see you."

My heart beats at his blunt display of affection, so unrestrained and simple. So mind boggling and raw. I have no idea how to feel about it.

"If you're in it just for a fuck we can do it right now." I blurt.

His voice rises with shock. "What?"

I shrug, nervous, but serious.

He stares at me for what feels like forever. "I'm not in it for a fuck. I want to take you out on a date." He smirks. "Then maybe we'll fuck, if you ask nicely."

I can't help the amusement. "I'm not asking for shit."

"Sure, you're not." Before it even registers, he picks me up and moves me over on his side where my legs fold and straddle his lap.

"Guess I'm going to have to pull it out of you." He murmurs and I get no chance to glare before his lips slowly kiss my neck. The faint sounds and the sliver of tongue set me on fire.

I try to pull away but his arms keep me in place. My halfhearted sigh turns into a whimper. His response is a jagged breath that fogs the spaces between us. He trails one hand through my hair, one down my hip and moves me against him. And I'm so, so quick to get intoxicated.

"Are you going to be a good girl and let me take you out on a date?" He says in my ear, and I chuckle.

"Like I said, you fucking wish."

He smiles too and snakes his hands under my shirt. His lips meet mine in a kiss that pushes and pulls with unhurried confidence. I don't even know how his fingertips reach my bra and lower the cup, but a tiny, throaty moan spills from my lips when the pads of his fingers brush over my nipple and give it a pinch.

"Say yes." He pulls my earlobe into his mouth, pushing his hips into me.

I moan.

"Let me take you out or I'll tease you all night."

I try to ride him over my jeans. Hands buried in his hair. Mewling in his ear.

"Say yes." He strokes and pinches again. And again. And I moan.

"Fuck...you...Jake. Fine. Yes..."

~A/N ~

This was a nervous roller coaster to write. How was it for you to read?

If you enjoyed this chapter, please give it some love!

But most importantly, give yourself some love first <3