I have Carter in my fifth period—”
I hold up a hand. “Sue, with all due respect, I can’t discuss a student’s private session.” The adult, professional part of me is shining through brightly. Underneath, the dragon is screaming: say his name say his name say his name.
The hit to my craving. Soothing ointment to the burn. I want her to tell me everything she knows about Carter.
“Oh, I’m sorry. No. I didn’t mean anything like that.” She shakes her head, clearly rattled. “I was just saying, he’s troubled, is all. He was expelled from the public high school after that incident. You know… When he nearly beat that poor boy to death. Assault charges filed.” She whispers this last part with a solemn head shake. “I heard there were also quite a few altercations with his teachers. Typically, the academy would never accept such a disturbed youth, so they must have great faith in you as his counselor.”
A compliment to stroke my ego and lower my defenses. She’s a practiced gossip whore. This school is her life. I wonder what little tidbit about me was passed around before I started. Still, it’s never a bad idea to befriend a gossip. They keep you informed.
“I’m just honored to be given the chance to help.” My smile is vibrant. Then, so I know she sees the label on front, I grab my Prada bag and pull out my phone. I pretend to check a message. “I should get to my office to start prepping for the day.”
“Of course,” Sue says. “It was so good to meet you, Ellis.”
We’re on a first-name basis, and I didn’t tell her mine. “You too, Sue. Have a great day.”
Have a great fucking day, you whore. This woman doesn’t have any clue about how special Carter is. I tap out a note on my phone to follow up with him about his calculus class; find out if he’s having issues.
With my help, Carter’s life will turn around.
As I head down the hallway, I can’t help my roving gaze, wanting a glimpse of him, wondering where his locker is located. I don’t have a session with him again until tomorrow. Maybe I can meet up with Sue at lunch—I can’t imagine she leaves the academy—and tease more out of her.
Before I enter the reception area, I stop a few feet from the glass door to catch my breath. Take a moment to center myself. Then I roll my shoulders back and push through with a smile.
The first meeting of the day is with a sophomore girl who is struggling with her feelings for her boyfriend. She wants to focus on her studies and be accepted to Berkeley, just like all the women in her family, but she fears her love is a distraction.
As I listen to her, I nod along compassionately. I am empathetic.
All the while, there’s an incessant itch at the back of my mind. A niggling little irritation building. My thoughts keep jumping to the boy who walked into my office day and tested all my boundaries.
“He’s just…changed everything,” Mia says, exasperated.
He has changed everything.
“What am I supposed to do?” she asks.
I pick up a pencil and use it to distract myself. I press my thumbnail into the wood to ground my thoughts. “Does he feel the same about you?”
This question seems to perplex her. “I think so. Yes, I mean. He does. But that’s not what I’m worried about. I don’t want to lose focus. I’m struggling with whether or not I should break it off.”
I look up from toying with the pencil. “Why would you break off the relationship, Mia? That seems especially cruel to me, seeing as Tyler appears to have done nothing more than love you.”
She blinks a few times. “That’s true, I guess. I really don’t want to hurt him.”
I inflect a calm tone to my voice. “What I see in front of me is a smart, strong young woman who is capable of managing school and relationships.” I smile, lace my fingers together. “That is what life is about, right? Learning to manage all aspects of our lives in a healthy way?”
Mia’s facial expression relaxes, her forehead losing the hard crease. “That’s what I’ve tried to explain to my mom, but she refuses to hear it.”
I nod, but a white-hot flame lashes at the memory of my mother. I shove the thought away. “Your mom just wants what she feels is best for you. But you’re the only one who