Beast(13)

“Um…,” a tiny voice says.

“Yes, Emily,” Dr. Burns says to the blond goddess. Except she’s not a goddess and I’m not a gladiator about to bang her in the backseat of my gilded chariot. We’re just two people sitting in a circle.

“I can relate,” her soft voice whispers. “Because I’m twelve and sometimes I feel trapped. Like I didn’t choose to look like this, like there’s nowhere to go. It’s a cage. Or jail, or something. I’m afraid to raise my hand in class. I don’t want to give anyone a reason to look.”

“Thank you, Emily,” Dr. Burns says. “That’s very heartfelt.”

Her little mouth full of purple braces grins at Dr. Burns and I’m sick. She’s twelve? My throat seals shut and I almost choke. Oh god, I’m a pedophile.

No wonder every girl on the planet avoids me like the plague.

I turn off the volume and tune out.

The session lasts forever, and outside of telling everyone the five good things about Jamie, I don’t say another word. For the rest of the time, I’m gone. This isn’t for me and I’m fine with that, so okay. I went to therapy to make my mom happy. I gave it a shot and now I’m done. The end.

Emily elbows me. “What?” I ask her.

She points at the group. They’re all staring at me. Jamie fidgets, a nervous smile stabbing her hot red cheeks. “Are you still with us, Dylan?” Dr. Burns asks.

“Uh…yeah?”

“Great! Would you like to add to the conversation? Any thoughts regarding what Jamie just said?” Dr. Burns says.

About what Jamie said? The five good things? “I…um…” Shit.

The girls don’t blink. They wait for an answer.

This must be what being on trial feels like. “I think what she said is fine.”

“You do?” Jamie asks.

I shrug. “Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t I? It’s cool.”

She smiles. A real smile, not a fake one like before.

Time’s up and I get my things together to go home. Dr. Burns puts her hand on my shoulder as I’m halfway out the door. “I look forward to seeing you next week.”

I shake my head. “I only had to go once, and I think once is enough.”

“Well then, it was nice meeting you,” she says. Dr. Burns steps back and lets me leave.

Freedom! Even the air smells better outside that room. So claustrophobic. And I don’t turn around to see the girls leave, no way. I push my wheels into the hall and keep on going. I don’t want to see Emily scurry back to the sixth grade. Don’t want to see Hannah’s death stares from her skin-hugging-skull face. Don’t want to hear Gabrielle’s polished shoes storm off to conquer the world. And I definitely don’t want to see Wretched. Like, pretty much for anything, ever. I’ll pass on that one.

They won’t miss me. Jamie won’t either. She probably already has a boyfriend. Or nine. Right, Dad? Did you watch this whole pile of ridiculousness? What’d you think of me getting shot down by a roomful of girls? Par for the course, right? I glance around, looking for any sign my dad agrees with me from above. A crooked stripe in a pattern, a loose shoelace on someone walking by. Something.

I’m always looking for that one something extra to tell me he hears me. If I’m locked in my head thinking about something that’s bugging me, that one blip—a text that won’t load, milk that’s got one day left before it expires, anything—is my dad telling me, I got you. I’m with you. I’m still here.

Instead, I get nothing. Silent as always, so I push his non-answer into a little box inside my gut and shut it tight. As soon as it’s all locked away, my phone buzzes. Digging it out of my pocket, I turn it on and see I have one text from JP. It’s a quick one that says: Did you talk to Adam Michaels yet? And shoot, the answer is no. Not looking forward to that—he’s a senior on the basketball team. Could be a challenge to collect, for once.

The other eighteen missed texts are from Mom, all in pigeon talk because she’s the COOL MOM. This is what COOL MOMS do.

So sorry! Running late, big mtg!

Sorry Sweet <3! Work…u know how it is.

Pls don’t b mad!

FYI ILU!

I’ll make it up 2 u w/McD!

(Even tho McD is evil corp)

I know u <3 chicken nuggets!

I’ll get u a 20 piece meal

(although chickens r ground up into goo)

(And tortured in sm. cages)

K?

Or do u want Big Mac?

2 Big Macs? (Even tho cows suffer to make beef & cheese)

Lemme know asap…

After that it was her emoji fetish. Emoji purple heart, emoji smiley, emoji pink heart, emoji panda bear (why a panda bear? Is McDonald’s selling a McPanda now?), emoji burger and fries…I got your messages, I text back to her. I will study while I wait for you. Stop worrying.

What abt chix nuggets? she immediately texts back.

Fine, I text, and find the money she gave me so I can get a candy bar and a bag of pretzels. Debate getting a soda too, but decide to pass. Screw fruit.

ilu!!! she texts.

I sigh. It’s not like I haven’t encouraged her to use actual English; I have, but she’s stuck in 2003.

Love you too, I text back. I have to. If I don’t shut that down, an avalanche of emojis will destroy my data plan, and I need that to talk to my actual friends. Like when JP wants to humble-brag about how he didn’t tap whatever ass fell on him from the sky because “she deserves a guy who cares.” How magnanimous of him.