Will knew the moment he entered the office that something was going on. Over the past few months he’d gotten to know his therapist’s habits very well. Laragh liked to lounge. Typically, there was a pot of peppermint tea set up on her coffee table, and by the time he took a seat she’d have poured them each a cup. Instead of the teapot there was a paper-cup, and the bitter scent of coffee. She had a notepad on her knee—another thing that Laragh didn’t do. Will eyed it, uneasy. There was already half-a-page of scribbles, and she tapped the pen against her lips.

Had something happened? Will sat forward on the couch. “Laragh?”

With a blink, Laragh was suddenly present in the room once more. “Will.” She put the notepad aside, and the tension in his shoulders eased. “You find a parking space okay?”

“I did.” Will answered. One of Laragh’s things was not asking vague questions. It would always be something pointed. She wouldn’t ask ‘How is school?’, but ‘Did you get your homework for tomorrow finished?’, or instead of asking ‘How was the match?’, it would be ‘What was the final score?’.

“It’s not too busy out this way.” Will said. Laragh’s office was by the docks. An orthodontist was above their heads, and a small architecture firm beneath their feet.

“Good, good.” Laragh’s gaze drifted to the coffee table. She jolted. “The tea! I completely forget—excuse me. My mind’s all over the place today.” She went to the counter underneath a large sky-light. “Tell me, did you make it to all your classes on time?”

“I did.”

“Take notes?”

“Tons.”

“Ate with Dune and Cassie?”

“Yes.”

“Called your dad?”

“…I text.”

Laragh nodded, and Will released a little breath of guilt. They‘d discussed ways for Will to approach his dad, and Will continued to fall short of her expectations. He did his best in other ways.

“Meet any cute boys?”

Will forced himself to stay relaxed. There was something inherently awkward about talking about romance with Laragh. She’d once made the awful remark that he was a young man with ‘needs’. Given that his relationship with Gabriel could have destroyed his life when he began seeing her, he hadn‘t so much as breathed a word about his existence.

“It’s a big city.” Will shrugged.

Laragh looked over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. When he remained poker-faced, she moved on. She laid the mugs of tea on the coffee table. “Are you happy with how maintaining your diet went this week? Were you able to keep up with preparing meals and planning for the week?”

“Yeah.”

“And are you within budget?”

“Yeah.”

Laragh looked impressed. “You sound good. Relaxed. To be honest, I was afraid that the change of scenery might have a negative impact—a lot of young men and women find a change of environment an anxious endeavour, but maybe that’s just what the doctor ordered for you?”

“Well,” Will thought it over, “I guess it’s nice that not every I run into here knows about my, uh, eating thing.”

Laragh had heard about him being outed to the school about the eating disorder—to this day Dune still gave James shit for reading that brochure out in class—and she knew that Will didn’t like it. It was a tight, embarrassing feeling in his gut whenever he spoke to people he knew back home. Laragh had told him a hundred times it wasn’t something to be embarrassed by. Will listened to her a hundred times, believed she was right, was as rational as humanly possible about it all—and still felt ashamed when people knew. Still went red when teachers asked him oh-so-carefully how he was getting on.

Laragh poured the tea.

“There’s a support program that my charity run at the youth centre down main-street. A group program.” Laragh pushed the steaming cup to him. The scent of fresh mint wafted up. “I would like you to join it. Its purpose is to connect kids with similar issues. People find it easier to connect to those who can empathise with what they're going through. Easier than they would an adult.”

Will picked up the tea. He didn’t take a sip, but spun the cup in his hands. “I think this works well for me,” he took his time, knowing that Laragh would wait for him to get it all out. “These one-to-one sessions. I’ve got my eating under control, and I’m not running laps around the city for eating an ice-cream—I’m good. I’m doing good.” He repeated, more sure.

Laragh’s smile was soft. “I agree. And I think you could be a good support for some kids in the group. We get a lot of young people who don’t receive the support they need from their family—something I believe you can relate to. You know the difference talking to someone can make. I’m not expecting you to do therapy with anyone, I’d simply like you to meet him.”

Will drummed his fingers on the cup. “I don’t…” he met her expectant gaze. “What would it entail, exactly?”

“Meeting him for tea, having a conversation.” Laragh explained. “Kyle is a very cynical boy, and too smart for me.”

Will winced. “If he’s too smart for you, he’ll run circles around me.”

“I think you two could be very good for each other.” Laragh pressed. “Would you be willing to try?”

Will could already feel the pressure of obligation on his shoulders, but Laragh hadn’t let him astray so far. “Okay…” He nodded. He could try. Right? They continued with the short session. Anxiety crept into Will’s thoughts, and it took him several seconds to realise it was his phone ringing that was disturbing Laragh‘s classical music playing in the background.

“Sorry,” Will tapped it off, reading the name only after he’d hung up.

Mom.

“It’s okay,” Laragh continued on with what she’d been saying. Will stared at the phone not listening to her. It had been literal months since she’d called him. Had it been a miss-dial? An accident? Had something happened? Important enough that she was willing to speak with him.

“Do you mind if we finish up early?” Will blurted out, cutting Laragh off. He checked himself with a quick smile. “Sorry, I just remembered I agreed to meet someone this afternoon. Bad scheduling, I won’t do it next week.”

Laragh nodded, there was no sign that she doubted his excuse. Will left quickly, and had his phone inches from his face all the way to his car. His fingers hovered over the re-dial button. They seemed to cramp in that position. Pressing the button was impossible. Will climbed into the car and leaned his forehead against the steering wheel. Once his heart didn’t beat as frantically he scrolled down to Leah’s contact info.

Will: Hey, how’s it going?

Will used Facebook messenger. He could see she was online. See the ‘seen' symbol pop-up.

Leah: Going good, getting ready to start classes next week. Are you okay? Did something happen?

Will hadn’t text Leah in a while. She’d come down a few times during the summer, insisting they spend time together—but her constant bickering with dad caused tension in the house. By July her weekly visits had degraded into phone-calls, by August—texts.

Will: Mom tried to call me. I was in the middle of something and couldn’t answer.

Will bit his lip. The dots showing Leah was writing a reply popped up. They disappeared. They popped up.

Leah: It was a busy week. She was asking about you.

Will: About me how?

The dots started to float. Will, frustrated, called her. Leah picked up with a sigh.

“Asking about me how?” Will asked.

“Calm down first, okay?”

“I’m calm. I’m calm, I’m just asking.”

“You’re completely out of breath.”

Will drummed his feet on the floor of his car. He held the phone away from his mouth as he let out a slow, steadying breath. He put it on loud-speaker, not holding it too close anymore. “I was working out.”

“Will.”

“Just tell me, Leah. Why was she asking? It’s fine if it was bad. I’m used to that. I just want to know.”

Leah was slow to speak. Will could hear reluctance in every syllable she uttered.

“It wasn’t bad. We were getting textbooks for my course and she was wondering if you’d gotten all of yours yet, or if you’d sorted out a place to stay. It was just normal stuff. Bus times and class times and schedule conflicts—the things we were going through.”

Will felt a sudden, absurd, burning behind his eyes, and he did feel short of breath then. He’d been expecting what had come before. Not worry. It had been a long time since she’d spoken to him without a criticism and anger, even before everything had gone to hell. “Is she okay?”

“She’s stable.”

Will bit his lip hard. Really hard. She occupied his thoughts, often. As much as he tried to move on with his life and focus on things that made him happy—he hadn‘t quite worked out how to move on completely from his mom yet.

“Stable enough for me?” Will whispered.

Leah took in a sharp breath. The silence between them hung heavy, and Will even if he knew how to break it, didn’t have the stomach too.

Leah said, “It was a few questions, that’s all.”

Will looked out over the river Liffey. There were ships in the water. Some new, some old and rusting. A few speedboats at their bases. He watched as one circled a larger ship just coming in from the sea. Leah repeated his name until he couldn‘t ignore her.

“I just wanted to know why she called.” Will whispered, any lustre he‘d had now deserting his voice entirely.

“I know. I’m sorry. How are you getting on in Dublin?”

“Fine.” Will lay his head back and shut his eyes.

“… Have you run into Gabriel? He’s teaching up there now.”

His heart tremored The need to protect replaced his misery. “In UCD?” Will asked, casually.

“No, DCU.”

There was another long silence. This one not heavy, but loaded.

“Look I know he—”

“Are you really about to bring all this up again?” Will asked.

“I just want to say—”

Will had listened to what she had to say about Gabriel a hundred times over. He hung up, tossing the phone onto the passenger seat. He’d listened to her argue that Gabriel was a bad person. A manipulative person. Someone who was using Will. Hurting him. Personal experience had found Gabriel eased more hurt than he ever caused.

Will reached for his phone again. He text.

Will: Have some free time. Can I come over early?

Gabriel replied within seconds.

Gabriel: I won’t be home until seven, but you can head in. There’s a spare key inside the mail slot. I’ll see you soon. X