Josiah 

"Tell me more about your friend?" Dr Getrude nodded, sitting back in her chair, watching me like she usually did.

 Dr Getrude had said those words numerous times before. She had even accompanied them with that same exact gesture but for some reason, it didn't feel the same as those previous times. This time I felt more exposed than all our other sessions. I felt like she had trod too close to secrets I wasn't ready to open up about. 

Usually, I turned all my thoughts about Baring into sketches so talking about him or anything related to him felt like I was being stripped down in front of an audience. I couldn't talk about Baring. I had never talked about him before and the thought of putting into words what Daniel Axe Baring was, made my heart rattle in its cage.

"He is...nice."

"Ok." Dr Getrude responded, watching me intently, "How did you meet?"

I blinked slowly trying to figure out what Dr Getrude was getting at. I wasn't trying to get out of talking about Baring but, "You said we would continue where we left off last time. You know the stuff about the nightmares." 

"Why are you avoiding talking about your friend? Is he bullying you in any way? If he is we can talk about it," 

"No. No. Not at all. He..."

I glanced around the room taking in the usual trinkets that decorated Dr Getrude's office. Since the new couch, she hadn't touched or changed anything. Everything was in place and her office looked and felt consistently like the same place I had been coming to for the past six months. A fact I liked despite knowing it was probably not something everyone cared about. 

"Josiah." Dr Getrude prompted. 

I looked up at her, "Nice?"

"You already said that."

'I know.' I thought to myself. Dr Getrude wanted me to talk about Baring. She wanted me to tell her things I didn't quite understand yet. Things like how every time I thought of him my heart did one small leap within my chest. This is like when I noticed him smiling at me. My lips mirrored his without permission. Or things like the semi-permanent itch to draw him every time he was around. 

Well, mostly that and ... I couldn't tell her he was the hottest guy in my school or the fact that Sketching out his silhouette brought me a sense of comfort. My hands automatically moved on their own as I reverted to sign language, ‘He has kind eyes and a nice smile.’

Dr Getrude scribbled something in her notebook, "Ok. And is that what you like about him?" 

I shook my head and glanced at the clock on her desk. Time wasn't moving, as usual. Instead, it seemed to linger in one spot waiting for my answers like Dr Getrude was. I pulled on the sleeves of my sweater. The loose garment fell past my fingers covering most of my hand. It did more than just warm me. It made me feel safe. I pulled at it long enough to form a weird stretchy loop on one side. 

"Ok. Can you tell me about how he makes you feel?" Dr Getrude prodded. 

"Safe," I said, looking up to face her again. 

"How does he make you feel safe?" Dr Getrude asked, scribbling some more notes into her notebook. 

I exhaled slowly trying to find a way to put into words what it was about Baring that made me feel safe, "I don't know." 

"Ok. Have you spoken to him yet?"

"You are not making this therapy thing easy today are you?" I said, trying to laugh away the awkwardness that was now building in my chest.

Dr Getrude didn't laugh. She just peered at me from over her glasses as she knew I was stalling. 

"No." 

"What would you say to him if you could?" She asked, leaning back and resting against her couch. 

"That he is an idiot," I answered automatically. I laughed at my own answer and thought about Baring and all the times I wanted to tell him he was being an idiot. I looked up, in time to catch the small twitch on Dr Getrude's lips. 

"Well next time you see him try to say something to him. Maybe try out one word and see how it goes from there." 

I stared at Dr Getrude wondering why she would suggest something that terrifying so early in the day. Instead of telling her how the thought of speaking to him terrified me, I simply nodded and stood up. 

"Ok. See you Wednesday." Dr Getrude said standing up to do whatever therapists did after their patients left. Something I always wondered about. I always wondered if I opened the door a few minutes after I left would I see her dancing on her table and celebrating the few minutes of freedom before another patient or would she be standing at her window watching cars go by as she counted the minutes to her next appointment. The possibilities were endless.