Vaughn

As the small figured teen begrudgingly trudged by me in the passageway, I closed the door behind us. I watched as he slowly made his way over to Zoe at the front desk who was patiently waiting on him, intrigue burned into her gaze.

"Hi, are you Dr. Ackerman's 4:30 appointment? Mr....?" I heard her cheerily ask, though I wasn't listening too closely. I was too busy grimacing at the bookbag he dragged haphazardly across our carpeted floor. I was used to stressed out and depressed adult clients, but this was definitely going to be my first and last angsty teenager.

"Leigh. Leigh Mayfair." He drawled as Zoe nodded and began to look through paperwork, her brow raising slightly as she gazed at her clipboard. Seeing her face light up in surprise confirmed my earlier deduction, though forgive me for not being too ecstatic about it.

"It says that your session was already paid for, so just sign here and you're all set for Dr. Ackerman."

"Who's Dr. Ackerman?" The teen uttered boredly, and I cringed at the way my name seemed to roll off his tongue in disgust. It was then that I cleared my throat and raised my hand slightly, in a sort of 'I come in peace' fashion.

"Here I am, follow me to the back, please." I requested pleasantly and began to walk towards the room for our session. Regardless of how his attitude is, it's my job to offer this young man a helping hand. With that in mind, I put a smile on my face and turned back to make sure he was following me. He was surprisingly obedient so far, albeit slow. Eyeing the way his black hood hung over his face, and bookbag still dragged behind like a dead body, I decided to break the ice a little. Who knows? Perhaps he just had a bad day, and a joke would ease the tension.

"You know young man, it's just a therapy session. You aren't signing your soul away to the devil."

"Might as well be." He murmured, and I could already tell this was going to be a long day. Inhaling deeply, I opened the door for him and held a glimmer of pride when he stepped into the room and his eyes widened significantly. A grin inched across my face as he eyed the glossy wooden furniture, the royal purple satin curtains, and the plush comfy couches of my own personal office. Everything in the room was adorned with golden embroidery and the lighting was dim enough so as you got a vibe of comfort and luxury. Leigh seemed taken aback by how extravagant the place appeared, the look of awe didn't wipe clean from his face until I took a seat at my desk.

"Please, lie down if you so wish. Get comfortable." I offered, to which whatever gremlin that was possessing his body seemed to reclaim its position. The aura of 'i'd rather be anywhere but here' returned as he sat himself in the lush purple couch across from me and laid his head on a pillow. Laying down knocked off his hood, and I could actually get a decent view of this boy. Dark brown bangs flipped up to reveal a fair face, astonishingly deep green eyes, and a jaded glare that was cloaking a myriad of emotion. Honestly, he'd be an attractive boy if he could get his attitude in check, I thought to myself whimsically as I neatly stacked my papers and began.

"So Mr. Mayfair, I'm going to tell you a bit about psychotherapy. It is important when it comes to the treatment of disorders, coping with your feelings, and understanding your current mental health-"

"My current mental health is fine." The boy hissed and crossed his arms, glaring daggers at the ceiling as something in that sentence seemed to rile him up. I paused to look his way before attempting to tap into this sudden spike in behavior. Clearly someone had forced him to be here, as quite a few number of people think therapy is a waste of time. However, how wrong they are... venting your problems and striving to fix them can do wonders for your body and mind.

"Mr. Mayfair..." I began, not letting up even when he turned his head away from my direction, "why do you think you are here?"

"I don't know, why do YOU think I'm here?" He retorted snidely, and I could tell he was recoiling further into himself. This boy had no intentions of even trying out therapy, I thought as I furrowed my brow. I had to admit, I was quite inexperienced with patients so young and stubborn. I would have to use unconventional methods if I wanted to get through to him.

"I can't help you this way. Why don't you tell me a bit of what your current life is like?"

"Why don't you go play in traffic? I don't need your help." He grumbled dryly, and I frowned, though not at his words. I noticed that with each scathing retort, it felt more and more like he was the one hurting. Almost like an animal lashing out in pain, he rejected me. Despite that, the turmoil that seemed to cross his face after his comment made me believe that even he thought he was going too far. I calmly reached for the clipboard where I scribbled some notes for this case, softening my voice as I tried again.

"Leigh..." I whispered gently. He flinched at his name being called, though didn't berate me for being informal with him. "For now I'll just tell you what I do know about you."

"Ha... wha' coul' you possibly know 'bout me?" he murmured sarcastically, though muffled through fabric as he buried his face in the couch cushion.

"You're Leigh Mayfair. You're 17 and a senior at Magnolia Villa High School. Born on June 14th." I read off the information I received before setting down the pad and continuing. As I spoke, I gazed at the other who's back was to me, his body encased in that oversized hoodie and curled up into the couch. "Being your age can be hard. You often get into fights, you're emotional, and right on the cusp between being a kid and transitioning into an adult. Your friends are moving on, you're graduating, you're applying for jobs and colleges... It's a difficult and arduous time for you." I explained and noticed Leigh begin to fidget a bit. Despite him not looking my way, I was glad that I was at least able to get a word in and not be outright dismissed.

"Talk therapy is not just venting to some stranger about your problems... it's about working together to the point that we can come up with solutions. Please, allow me to help you?" I implored, not surprised in the least when several moments of silence soon followed. With a sigh I averted my gaze to the floor, crestfallen.

"That's a shame... I really wanted to get to know you."

Of course, this wasn't going to be solved just because I begged him to give me a shot, I thought somewhat dejectedly. I began collecting my papers and checking the time, a bit concerned. I've never before had this much trouble getting someone to at least open up about basic things. This time was paid for, and I intended to give this boy the value of his money. What matters now though, is how I can break through this shell of his...

"Hey." A reluctant yet strained voice broke the heavy silence of the room, and I looked towards the younger once more. His back was still to me of course, but his shoulders were slumped and he seemed more at ease than he was initially.

"It was my dad that told you all that, right? Even the stuff about me getting into fights?"

I went silent at his inquiry, my pen twirling between my fingers as I assessed the situation. Any little thing he says, even the most trivial piece of information would be crucial to getting him to open up. Therefore... it would help my case greatly if I were to be nothing but honest with him. With a thoughtful hum I replied, taking note of the shock on Leigh's face once I finished my sentence.

"No. It was an educated guess." I admitted, a quaint smile ghosting over my lips.

"No way. He had to have mentioned it." Leigh insisted, sitting up and hugging the pillow to his chest incredulously.

"Honest." I reassured him and drew two intersecting cross marks in the air, right over my heart. The boy parted his lips slightly to speak but once again seemed to revoke that argument. I made a mental note of this as it was grossly apparent that he was always watching what he said here. It may be the first session, but I needed to work on a basis in which he doesn't place his thoughts through a filter before addressing me.

"Alright," I heard the other mutter, his tone shifting with an annoyed inflection, "but did he tell you that he forced his son into mother-fucking-therapy, convincing everyone else in the family that he's got some kind of mental issue now?!"

I stalled at the sudden outburst, quickly containing my own joy of getting a breakthrough from this kid earlier than anticipated.

"What do you mean by that?" I urged him to elaborate, egging on the cathartic release of words that was sure to follow.

Leigh rolled his eyes heavenward, "I mean... I'm not even supposed to be here, but my father is no idiot. He stopped handing me the cash to make appointments myself and paid for it by card today. He's even picking me up from here to make sure that I went!"

An exasperated sigh left the boy as he mumbled under his breath, "What kind of parent insists that just because their kid isn't the most popular, or doing the best in school, or even actively sociable.... that- that something is WRONG with them?" He uttered in frustration and disbelief. "Isn't that... really ignorant parenting? He just doesn't want to deal with me. Don't you think he's doing this just to get me out of the house longer?"

Glancing up at the ceiling, I pondered deeply on what to say, my eyes flickering back to Leigh to see his own gaze locked onto mine. His face was eagerly awaiting, no, demanding an answer from me. What I said here could get him to warm up to me a bit more. However, I didn't want to agree with him just to get the ball in my court. Honesty was the best policy.

"Not at all." I replied smoothly, "your father treasures you very much. That's what I think."

Certainly, that was far from the answer that he wanted to hear. This was exemplified by the overly dramatic groan I received right after, followed quickly by a scowl as Leigh flopped back into the couch.

"Wanna know what I think? You're a hack... and therapy is a scam."

I grinned. "Open and honest, that's the spirit."