Unraveling (Second Chances) - By Micalea Smeltzer Page 0,3

lips in thought. “My guess would be that your subconscious is finally coming to terms with your trauma. You’re beginning to realize that not all men are like Preston.”

“I’ve been aware of that all along, Sharon. It’s just that… I feel scared and I can’t trust them.”

“You trust Rollo,” she remarked.

“I’ve known Rollo since I was a child.”

“You knew Preston as a child as well,” she bit her pen.

“Not like I knew Rollo. Besides, Rollo’s gay.”

“Is that why you feel safe in his presence? Because he’s gay?”

“I know Rollo and I know he’d never hurt me,” I spoke with conviction.

“What bothers you most about the Preston situation?” She asked.

“The fact that I was unable to protect myself and that my mother didn’t believe me,” I sighed, dramatically. If only I could have a dollar for every time Sharon asked this question.

“I think I can help you with one of those problems,” she stood. She strode to her desk and shuffled the clutter around. “Aha! Here it is,” she studied a neon pink flyer. She handed the crumpled piece of paper to me.

“Boxing?” I looked at her like she’d grown three heads. Was she crazy?

“Read further down,” she pointed.

“Self-defense classes?”

“I saw this in my grocery store and I just… thought of you,” she shrugged. “I think it would really help you get over some of your fears if you could protect yourself. Take a girlfriend with you.”

“I don’t have any girl friends. Only Rollo.”

“Oh,” she frowned. Brightening, she said, “Take him.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

She put her hand over mine. It was soft and her words were gentle, when she spoke. “I worry about you more than I do my other patients. You remind me of my daughter and I just hate to think of her going through something like this. I truly believe that self-defense classes will make you feel better.”

I folded the paper into fourths before tucking it into my purse. “Okay,” I nodded. “I’ll check it out.”

She smiled. “That’s all I ask.”

~***~

I slipped into my car and pushed a button on the steering wheel to ring Rollo.

“Rollo.” He answered.

I rolled my eyes and pulled out of the parking lot. “Sharon thinks I need to go to self-defense classes.”

“That’s a good idea. I can’t believe I never thought of it!” Rollo exclaimed.

“You think it’s a good idea?” I asked, in disbelief.

“Of course,” he huffed. “Maybe if you felt like you could defend yourself you’d get rid of a lot of your fears.”

I sighed and thrust my hair out of my eyes. Great, now Rollo sounded exactly like Sharon.

When I didn’t say anything Rollo said, “Katy, are you there? Hello?”

“Yeah, I’m here… if I do this will you go with me? I don’t want to go by myself.”

“Of course I’ll go. I’d do anything for my bestest friend.”

“Thanks, Rollo, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“I don’t know what you’d do either,” he laughed before clicking off.

I pulled into the parking lot of my condo building. I grabbed my purse and backpack off the passenger seat and headed up to the fourth level condo.

I dropped my bags by the door and kicked the door closed. I grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and slurped it down.

Self-defense classes?

I had never even contemplated the idea before. Probably, because I wouldn’t be too thrilled with the whole, touching thing.

I threw the empty water bottle away and grabbed my backpack.

I pushed open my bedroom door and plunked down at the little desk in the corner.

My room was fairly large, the walls white, and the bed a bright robin’s egg blue with yellow bedding. Odd furniture pieces decorated the room, nothing matching. A pinkish-red rug covered most of the hardwood floors. My mother would die if she knew I had covered up the wood floors.

But this space was completely me. I couldn’t say that about my childhood room.

I pulled my laptop out of my backpack and set it up on my desk. It powered on and I opened up my word document, for a paper I had been working on for my Psych class.

I turned on some music. I hated the quiet. It allowed my thoughts to wander too much.

I was about halfway done with my paper when my stomach rumbled. I looked out the window in my bedroom and saw that night had descended.

I pushed away from my desk and padded down the hallway to the kitchen.

I grabbed a box of Frosted Flakes, milk, and a bowl. I sat down