Breaking Sky(42)

“We’re flying tomorrow?” Chase flooded with relief. “Thank God.”

“You better thank Dr. Ritz if you want to fly. And bring her a cake. That woman has wanted to put you on the Down List since the moment you arrived.”

“That’s because I don’t take her crap.” Chase headed to the psychiatrist’s office. Without flight in her veins, she was all wound up, and spinning her wheels against Crackers actually sounded like fun.

? ? ?

Chase banged her way into Dr. Ritz’s office without knocking. The psychiatrist sat at a small table with Tanner of all people. He looked shirtless for a hot minute, but that was only Chase’s memories making a cruel play.

“Crackers. You wanted to see me?”

Dr. Ritz touched her forehead like it pained her. “Wait in the hall please.”

Tanner picked up his bag. “I’m okay.” He caught Chase’s eye. “I’m done here.” He shut the door right before she remembered his love vampire reference. She should have snapped her teeth at him.

Ritz stood by her desk. “Chase Harcourt, you get your way once again. Have a seat.” This was always the tricky start to Crackers’s system. There were only two spots in her office: a couch with a box of tissues on the armrest where the psychiatrist could sit beside her or the small table where Crackers could stare her down, eyeball to eyeball.

Chase chose the chair at the table where Tanner had been.

Ritz sat opposite her. “I’ve called you in because I spoke with Garret Powers in the infirmary earlier.”

“Who?” Chase asked.

“Your boyfriend.”

“Try again.”

“Your ex-boyfriend then. The one who will bear scars from you for the rest of his life.”

“Yikes.” The woman had a gold star in melodrama. “You mean Riot. We were never dating. Just friends. With some benefits.”

“There are no call signs here, Chase Harcourt. In this room, we use our birth names.”

“Wrong again, Ritz. I wasn’t born with this name.” In her excitement to show up the shrink, the truth had slipped out.

The tiny woman sat up and rifled through Chase’s file. Christ. Did she keep it on hand at all times? “Your last name was Tourn until you were twelve. Let’s talk about that.”

“Oh, let’s.”

“I should remind you, Chase Harcourt, that you need my approval to keep your wings.”

“Bully,” Chase murmured. She relented with a breath big enough to let the truth out fast. “Janice thought it would be easier to get money from my dad if I had his last name. What she didn’t factor in is that after their one-night mambo, he’d all but disappear.” Chase laughed emptily. “When she finally tracked him down and learned who he was…let’s just say she spat a few choice four-letter words.”

Chase debated telling Ritz about the look on Janice’s face when she had watched Tourn on TV, confirming to the whole world that he had dropped the nuclear bomb on the Philippines.

“Tell me about your father,” Ritz said.

“Nothing to tell. I knew him for one summer when I was twelve, and I haven’t seen him since. It was his decision to change my last name to my mother’s, and it was the best parenting move he ever made.”

“Because your father has a reputation.” Ritz clicked her pen. “He wanted to help you avoid that.”

“Crackers, I have a reputation. My father has a body count.”

“Interesting.” She lifted her fine wire glasses to the top of her head. “Let’s talk about your reputation.”

Chase’s seat was still warm from Tanner’s butt. “Tanner was complaining?”

“What is it you think he might be complaining about?”

“I used to like him. I changed my mind. He didn’t take it so well.” Chase crossed her legs. Uncrossed them. Folded them beneath her.

“And this has happened with several other boys. At least four I’m aware of.”

“Don’t forget the girl,” Chase half-joked. “Curiosity and all.” Ritz’s frown bent severely, and Chase felt the demarcation line of dangerous territory. “Are you patterning my love life?”

“Do you see a pattern?” Ritz asked. Chase had admitted that much to Tristan, but like hell would she give Ritz the same clearance level. She played with the front point of her hair while the psychiatrist continued. “Have you felt any deep connection to the boys—the people you’ve become intimate with?”

Chase cringed. Intimate was the word adults used to make her feel guilty. “I say, ‘kiss me.’ They kiss me. It’s that deep. And I only kiss, no matter what Riot says. I’m no skank.” Crackers’s face went canvas at the word. “I get a little skin to scatter heavy thoughts and—” She cut herself off.

“So it’s about escape,” Ritz said, and Chase hated how close she’d flown to the mark. “And you feel guilty about hurting these boys. That’s good. That’s the burden of caring.”

Chase opened her mouth to say that she couldn’t care less, but that’s not what came out.

“I’m careless.”

“With whom you date?”

Chase really didn’t want to talk about this, but she was cornered now. “I don’t date. I sidle up to someone. Wait to see if they like me. Then when I don’t feel the same, I go my own way. That’s normal teenage stuff.”