“I understand that some major changes have taken place in your life,” Mr. Brunswick, paunchy and balding counselor at Brashear High School, and clearly not possessing the capabilities to handle a situation like this, says. All casual-like, he reaches over the table and plucks a candy from the bowl, unwrapping it slowly before popping it in his mouth.

Luca just stares, wordlessly.

“Big, horribly tragic changes,” Mr. Brunswick continues, making a clicking sound with the candy.

Luca’s brows raise imperceptibly. “Yeaaah.”

“Were you and your sister close?”

Not particularly, is the honest answer. Not as much as he would have liked to have been. After all, Luca has always been a coward when it comes to his sister.

He turns his gaze away.

“Losing a sibling in and of itself is heartbreaking and completely world changing. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose a twin...”

Luca clears his throat. “Did you call me in here just to talk about this?”

Mr. Brunswick blinks his doe brown eyes, a bead of sweat slipping down his dark-skinned cheek. “Of course. That, and just another reminder that you should fill in your FAFSA form as quickly as possible, seeing as May will soon be just around the corner. I’ve also gone through the trouble of picking out some scholarships you might have some interest in that could really go a long way,” he explains, thumbing through the papers on his desk before settling upon a packet that he hands Luca.

“Thanks,” Luca murmurs, quelling a yawn.

“You seem closed off to me, Luca—more so than usual,” Mr. Brunswick adds in a wry tone, as if trying to lighten the mood.

“I really don’t want to talk about my dead sister right now,” Luca snaps, and flinches at his own choice of words.

Mr. Brunswick knows when to step off, lifting his hands up and nodding, his face saturnine. “All in your time, Luca. Grief is personal and there is no right way to go about it. I understand you wanting to keep that to yourself for now. However,” he claps his hands together, “you should be careful that you aren’t closing yourself off from everyone, especially those that love you, and just want the best for you. So, forgive me for being intrusive, but my good conscience begs me to ask: what coping mechanisms do you think you’re using?”

Luca stares at him, wondering what the hell to say but nothing comes to mind. Just a whole lotta blank.

“I’m sleeping a lot?”

Mr. Brunswick leans forward. “More so than usual?”

“Not really. Still have to get up in time for school.”

“Hmm. Luca. If I may be so bold, have you ever considered... counseling?”

Luca leans back into his chair, grabbing the top of his backpack. “Can I go now?”

Mr. Brunswick's expression falls. “Y-yes, I won’t hold you up. But Luca, I’m serious. It might be something to consider.”

“I’ll consider it,” Luca mumbles, totally lying. Sort of. It isn’t as if he hasn’t already thought about therapy—but then he recalls how much he hates strangers and honestly, ugh, talking about anything for extended periods of time, let alone the death of his sister...

Ciana used to pester him about going to a shrink.

Luca runs a hand over his face and scratches at his jaw, irritated. Seriously, what the hell does it matter if he talks about his sister or not? It isn’t anyone else’s business, that’s for damn sure. He’s better off talking to a wall, if anything.

Walls don’t talk back, nor do they form opinions and offer them like they’re the holy grail, the answer to every issue that plagues him.

You need to get onto the path to ‘healing’, he can just picture someone spouting, not having any idea the sort of person he is, or caring to find out before they make assumptions.

Ugh, just thinking about it makes his gag reflex activate.

“I’m gonna go now,” Luca tells his school counselor, waving goodbye as he shoulders his bag and heads towards the door.

Graduation can’t come soon enough.

“Don’t forget about FAFSA!”

“I won’t,” he calls, though he doesn't know what the hell he’ll go to college for anyway.