”
The clock on Dr. Sennett’s wall ticks off the seconds. She plucks a tissue from a nearby box and hands it to me. I dab at my eyes.
“Can you make a little room in your heart for your aunt and uncle to pick up where your parents left off?” she asks quietly. “Can you do that, knowing that’s what your parents would want?”
I smile ruefully. “My Aunt Meg is nothing like my mom.”
Dr. Sennett nods, then asks, “Does she have to be?”
Yeah, she kinda does. No offense, Aunt Meg, but my mom was amazing—funny and whip-smart and ironic and quirky. She couldn’t do perky if her life depended on it.
“In a way, maybe it’s better that she’s not like your mom,” Dr. Sennett continues. “No ambiguity or divided loyalty there, right? Plus, the ways that she’s different might add things to your life that you’ll end up valuing, even if you can’t appreciate them right now.”
I dab my eyes some more. “But you don’t understand,” I say. “Aunt Meg and I don’t have a real relationship; we’re just cordial to each other. Don’t get me wrong; I appreciate so much what she and Uncle Mark have done for me—in fact, I feel like every moment of my life has to be a testament to my appreciation. It’s exhausting. There’s nothing authentic about a relationship where you’re constantly prostrate with gratitude.”
Dr. Sennett fingers a lock of her hair. “What would you tell her if you weren’t prostrate with gratitude? What would you share with her if your relationship was authentic?”
I think about the question, idly fingering my tissue. “I actually did tell her about these dreams the other day,” I acknowledge. “She’s a good listener. She’s really sweet.”
Dr. Sennett nods. “What else might you want to talk to her about? What else do you think your aunt could help you with?”
I think for a moment, then blurt impulsively, “I’d tell her I’m obsessed with a guy I met at school … that he’s crazy good-looking and seems really nice … but that I’m not really sure if any of this is real or right, but then again, I tend to overthink every little thing, so … ”
Dr. Sennett smiles. “Sounds like you have a lot to share,” she says. “Maybe your Aunt Meg is the right person to share it with. Maybe your mom is pulling some strings for you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut self-consciously. “This is so not me,” I assure her. “I’ve never been boy-crazy or silly or superficial … ”
“So this feels silly and superficial to you?”
I shrug. “Actually, it feels like the opposite. I know it sounds silly and superficial—that’s why I’m so self-conscious about it—but I think the reason this guy and I are bonding is that we’re both grieving. His girlfriend drowned over the summer. I think we get each other … you know?”
Again, Dr. Sennett’s face is unreadable, but her eyes prod me to continue.
“Yet all this is taking place in high school, which means there’s a lot of silliness all around us,” I say. “This one poor insecure girl is totally threatened by me, and she made a scene at a bonfire over the weekend … then I think she left my friend a creepy anonymous note in her mailbox. I was nice enough to Blake today in school—that’s the guy—but I was kind of avoiding him at the same time, because I’m not sure I can handle all the drama. If it was just the two of us without all this attention focused on us, that would be one thing, but … ”
“So what does your gut tell you?” Dr. Sennett asks. “Are you willing to push past the silliness to get to know him better? And keep in mind, although high school is definitely a microcosm, your life will always be subject to some degree of judgment and scrutiny. There’s no living in bubbles on this planet.”
“I get that,” I say. “And yeah, I think I want to get to know him better. It’s just, the silliness notwithstanding, I wonder sometimes … do I really even know him at all?”
More seconds tick away on the clock.
“I think that’s what a relationship is about—getting to know somebody,” Dr. Sennett says. “Maybe he’ll be the love of your life. Maybe you’ll look back six months from now and wonder, ‘What was I thinking?’ Maybe he’s a prince; maybe he’s a jerk. I think the trick is knowing you don’t have to be able