"I don't need therapy."
The elder woman sighed, turning her head to the side whilst she looked at the young woman who sat beside her. Horns were honking throughout the car park. Teenagers parked their cars and climbed from them, chattering about how their weekends had been.
"Yes, you do," the woman replied, her hands gripping tight around the wheel. "You know that it will help you, Vicky. You know that it will be good for you. We are trying to have a fresh start. We are trying to put the past behind us."
"Then why will talking about the past help to put it behind us?" she wondered aloud, tucking her dull brown hair behind her ears. She looked straight out of the front window, her eyes narrowed as she looked at the people who walked by the car.
"It will help bury it," she replied. "It will help us accept what has happened and move on."
"I have accepted it."
"No, you haven't, Victoria," she snapped back without a moment to pause. "You have done nothing about it. You have sat in your room and buried your head in the sand. You are not the girl who you once were."
"Is it any wonder?" Victoria retorted, reaching into the footwell for her satchel. "We've spent the last year in hiding. We watched dad being murdered in front of us. Forgive me if I am not all smiles."
"Vic," the woman sighed, leaning her head on the steering wheel. She knew how hard the past week had been. She knew how hard the entire year had been. None of it had been easy. "I am trying to get us through this. I am trying to build us a life which your father would have been proud of. Why can you not let me do this?"
"I am," Victoria deadpanned. "I am just saying that I do not need therapy. I do not need to talk to someone, mom."
"One session," her mother replied, holding a finger up. "That is all I ask of you. Please, Vicky, try it."
Victoria rolled her eyes and checked she had her induction papers in her satchel. Her mother remained sat where she was, looking at her with pleading in her blue eyes.
"Fine," Victoria agreed, shrugging nonchalantly. "I will go."
"Brilliant," her mother sighed with content. She leaned over the car to wrap her daughter into her arms. "Just remember to make friends, Vicky. You are majoring in Psychology. It is going to be tough...especially after this year...you need friends to help you through it."
"I know," Victoria agreed, looking out the window after she had pulled away from her mother. Her gaze focused on the vision of the brick building in the distance. She needed to go to reception before finding her way to the lecture hall. She didn't really know what she was going to do. She had no faith in herself to pass her degree. She knew that she wasn't clever enough. No doubt she would end up with a mediocre job not relating to her degree.
"Okay," her mother said. "You go in there and show them how clever you are."
Victoria forced herself to smile back at her mother's encouraging look. She didn't want to, but she did. Her mother kissed her on the cheek, informing her that she would be back to take her to the therapist.
She shut the door to the car and watched her mother drive off. She adjusted the satchel which sat on her shoulder and took a deep breath, wondering what would be lurking behind the closed doors of the university. She didn't want to move to Gotham University. If she had her way then she would still be in Illinois. Chicago was her home town. It was where she had grown up with her parents. It was where she longed to be.
Trying not to dwell on the past, she moved through the parking lot. One hand clutched tightly around the strap of her satchel whilst the other straightened out the flared pink skirt she wore. She walked slowly, looking around as people paid no attention to her. She didn't mind too much. She deduced it would be easier that way.
She walked into reception, declaring her name before being given a map and her timetable. She took it with a moment of hesitation and glanced down. She opened her mouth, about to ask where she should really be going. No reply was given to her, and so she took it upon herself to wander the corridors aimlessly. She supposed she was fortunate that she didn't have to live at the university. On campus accommodation was not something which intrigued Victoria, especially because she would have to be away from her mother.
She finally came to the lecture hall and looked down at the name of the lecturer on the sheet of paper which her timetable sat on. She pushed the door open, peering around slowly. She saw about seventy sets of eyes turn onto her, each scrutinising her as she looked back. She felt her heartbeat rise steadily and her cheeks turn red.
"Ah," a sudden voice called out. "You must be Victoria Martinez...the new student this term...moved here from Chicago. Is that not correct?"
"Yes, Professor Bramowitz," she agreed in a soft voice.
"Well, Chicago is slightly different in comparison to this, Miss Martinez. If you would like to sit beside Mr Crane, then he will help you get up to speed after class too. He is one of the best in the year."
Victoria looked to where the Professor was pointing. A young boy sat at the top of the lecture hall, away from everyone else. She nodded in agreement and began to move up the steps. Noises of 'ooh' rang through the hall and Victoria wondered what was wrong with this boy. The Professor began speaking as she sat down beside him, her gaze focused in front of her. He refused to look at her.
He had a pen in his hand as he made his own notes, completely ignoring what Professor Bramowitz was saying. Victoria dared to glance down to his notes, wondering what he was doing before she began to scribble her own notes. Her attention span only lasted half of the lecture. She spent the second half of it staring straight ahead, ignoring everything which she should have listened to.
She didn't care. She failed to care about functionalism or psychoanalysis. She had no interest in any of it. She used to. There was a time when she used to care so much about it all. She used to enjoy spending time in the library, reading about everything.
And then everything had changed. Her whole perception had changed and she didn't want to know about why people acted the way they did. It was as if psychology was an excuse for certain behaviour. Victoria couldn't believe any of that.
She snapped out of her own world as students began to leave the lecture hall. Her name was called out, along with the boy who sat next to her. She sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. She packed her notebook away before standing up.
"You're going to get nowhere if you don't make any notes."
She looked behind her as Mr Crane followed her down the steps. He caught up with her, easily overtaking her as she rolled her eyes and followed him to the podium at the front.
"Jonathan," Professor Bramowitz spoke. "Miss Martinez will be requiring the textbooks for this year. Perhaps you could show her to the library during your study period?"
"Is no other student capable?" Jonathan wondered.
Bramowitz chuckled, slapping Jonathan on the back. "You know that you can show her in half the time. Most of them haven't stepped foot in the library during their university education. Besides, I am sure Victoria will appreciate it."
Both sets of eyes turned to look at her and she startled. "Of course."
"Fine," Jonathan said; his voice haughty as he moved off from the lecture hall. Victoria followed him, always staying one pace behind as he led her through the corridors and the campus of the university.
He said nothing to her, choosing to keep his backpack on his shoulder and his eyes focused in front of him. She studied him for a moment, noting how he was well dressed for a student. He wore black trousers and a brown sweater over a white shirt. His hair was rather long and often fell into his eyes if he didn't push it behind his ears. His glasses were large and covered his vivid blue eyes.
"Why are you here?" Jonathan suddenly asked her as he stopped walking for a moment. She stood beside him before walking again, her eyes downcast as she shrugged.
"I had to transfer."
"I know that," he replied, his voice irritated. "I meant, why are you studying Psychology? You have no interest in it."
"I did," Victoria replied. "I just don't anymore."
"That makes no sense," Jonathan said to her. "Psychology is one of the most important subjects. It explains why people do things."
"It provides an excuse as to why people do things," Victoria said. "It gives pardon to things which should never be pardoned."
"Then why are you still studying it?" Jonathan asked her. "There is no point studying something which you are going to fail because you are not willing to learn. There is no reason for me showing you to the library. You're wasting my time as much as your own."
Victoria felt annoyance bubble from within her as she balled her hands by her side. She shook her head, looking around as people laid in the Autumn sun, the stress of the first week of college apparently non-existent.
"I can find the books myself if it is that inconvenient for you," Victoria promised him.
He said nothing back to her then. He kept his mouth shut, his blue eyes studying the girl next door to him as he wondered what had happened to make her hate Psychology so much. She looked around the library once they were inside again. She followed him to the top floor. The library was deserted. She had expected as much. No one studied during the first week of term.
"Here," Jonathan said, handing her two books he had picked out. She held her arms out, waiting for him to load them on to her. He did so without any concern of their weight. She struggled to hold them in her grasp as he noted they had managed to get up to her chin. She complained audibly then.
"You do know that a real gentleman would help?" she checked with him.
A snort escaped his mouth. "They don't exist around here. You'll soon see that."
"Hey!"
Victoria turned around and looked down the aisle. Jonathan groaned as he saw the sweater wearing jock move down the rows.
"Do you need a hand with those?" he asked Victoria.
She had no chance to reply before he had picked them from her hands. She tucked her hair behind her ears whilst Jonathan rolled his eyes and began to look at the books again. Of course she would turn red and begin giggling like a schoolgirl when Robert Preston showed his face. All the girls did.
"Thanks," Victoria said.
"No problem," he assured her. "I'm Robert. Robert Preston. I saw you come in this morning."
"I'm new," she said.
"He knows," Jonathan assured her, picking out another book. "He was there when Professor Barmowitz introduced you to the whole class."
Victoria said nothing back to that as Jonathan passed her another book. She held it by her side as Robert glared at Jonathan.
"No need to be so rude, Jonathan. Victoria is new. I am sure this is daunting for her."
"Oh, yes, I can tell how terrible this is for her," Jonathan said to Robert. "Her heartbeat is currently beating ten to the dozen and her eyes can't be taken off from your perfect blonde hair. No doubt her hormones are racing."
"No!" Victoria snapped at Jonathan as he placed his hands on his hips. "I was not thinking any of that."
"Of course not," Jonathan drawled, his voice slow and sarcastic. "That's the last of the books. I am sure Preston will show you how to check them out. I have work to do."
"Thanks," Victoria said as he went past her. Her thanks echoed in his ears as he left the two of them in the quiet section of Psychology.
If the girl had any sense then she would stay away from Robert Preston. Jonathan had been living at the university for three years now. He had been in Preston's classes for a while. He knew what he was like. He would find a girl, date them for a while and then cast them aside. How many times had Jonathan seen his latest squeeze in tears? He couldn't count. Of course, Jonathan knew what was wrong with the boy. He had commitment issues, that much was apparent.
But, Jonathan sensed that the girl did not have any knowledge of what he was like. She wouldn't listen to him, anyway. Why should she? She was not Jonathan's concern. He failed to care what she did.
He returned to the final lecture of the day later on, taking his seat at the back of the class. She walked in with Robert still carrying her books, laughing and smiling at whatever he was saying to her. She looked up to where Jonathan sat, a small smile on her face as she did so. He scowled back to her. He had intentionally been horrible to her earlier to keep her away from him. Why did she feel the need to smile at him? Was she a people pleaser? Jonathan certainly hoped not. He couldn't deal with one of those.
The rest of the class filtered in, but Jonathan paid them no attention. His eyes remained fixed on Victoria and Robert as she sat beside him. He was much more forward than her, daring the nudge her softly and causing her to laugh. Resisting the urge to throw up, Jonathan thanked God when Professor Barmowitz walked in.
He spent the rest of the lecture making his own notes and expanding on what Barmowitz said. He looked down and noted that the new girl was trying to make notes. Well, she made more than Robert Preston did during that lecture.
...
"The session is only an hour," Victoria's mother assured her. "And Doctor Barnard is lovely, Vicky. You'll love him."
"I seriously doubt it," Victoria said as she sat in the car outside the psychiatrists. She looked at the building she was about to enter. It was nothing extraordinary. It was simply a house in a row of houses, yet inside was different. She imagined plush carpets and sofas along with free coffee machines.
"Do you want me to come in with you?" her mother asked her. "I can sit in the waiting area."
"No," Vicky shook her head. "I'll be fine doing this by myself."
"Will you?" she wondered aloud. "I just worry for you, Vicky. You're my little girl."
"Honestly, I will be fine. I will be out in a bit."
"Okay," her mother agreed, kissing her on the cheek before she moved.
Victoria walked through the car park to the steps leading up to the doors. A bronze plaque sat on the wall, proudly announcing that the psychiatrists was registered and fully legal. Victoria pushed the wooden door open, looking around the reception area with intrigue. It was what she had thought it would be. She took slow steps to the mahogany desk, looking down at the woman who hid her face behind a computer.
"Hi there," she chirped. "Do you have an appointment with Doctor Barnard?"
"Yes," Victoria replied. "Victoria Martinez. I have an appointment at four thirty."
"Just give me a second," the woman said, clicking on the mouse and focusing on the computer screen. "Ah, yes, Julie's daughter. If you would like to take a seat and just wait for a few moments. I'll print some forms out that you need to fill in. They shouldn't take long."
"Thanks," Victoria said, moving to sit down on a leather couch by the desk. No one else was in the room as she folded her arms across her waist and pulled at her white blouse, making sure it was tucked into her skirt.
"Oh, Jonathan!"
Victoria turned around in her seat, looking back over at reception before feeling fear rise in her body. What was he doing here?
"Can you take these forms to Miss Martinez? I have to return a phone call."
Jonathan looked amused for a vague second as he noted the brown curls on the sofa. Her eyes were fixed on him as he wondered what she was doing at a psychiatrists. He said nothing, taking the letters from Molly, the receptionist, and moving over to Victoria.
"What are you doing here?" Vicky worried as he sat beside her on the sofa with the form on the clipboard. He handed her a pen and she took it, her eyes never leaving his as she did so.
"I work here," Jonathan said. "Some of us need money to get us through education. Besides, I get to help sometimes. It is extracurricular too. Anyway, I should be asking what you are doing here."
"Isn't there such a thing as patient confidentiality?" Victoria asked him, taking the clipboard from him and she began to write down her details.
"That is true," Jonathan said to her. "I won't be working on your case. Apparently it is labelled as a top priority. I will just be filing your documents."
"And you won't say anything, will you?" Victoria asked him, her timid gaze looking at his wide one. "I don't want anyone to know that I need therapy...well...I don't even need it...I don't know why I am here..."
"You're in the denial stage," Jonathan said to her as she went back to filling out the form. "It is common in most patients."
"I'm not in denial," she snarled at him, passing him the clipboard back. She ran a hand through her hair, fluffing it up a bit more whilst Jonathan watched her. "There is nothing wrong with me. I'm fine."
"Another sign of denial," Jonathan whispered, "always saying that you are fine."
Victoria watched as Jonathan stood up and checked her forms.
"You won't say anything..." she trailed off, looking at him with a pleading gaze. "Please, Jonathan."
He regarded her for a moment, wondering why she was in the psychiatrists. What did she need help with? What had happened to her? He didn't know, but he would find out.
"In case you haven't noticed, I am hardly the social hub of the university," he replied dryly. "Anyway, your private life is of no concern to me. I couldn't care enough about what you need help with."
She winced at the harshness of his tone but chose to say nothing back to him. He regarded her with a small smirk before walking away. He couldn't wait for Doctor Barnard to give him her file later on. It wouldn't be going into the cabinet until he had read it.
...
"How was it?" Julie asked Victoria as soon as she was back in the car.
Victoria slammed the door shut, remembering what Crane had said to her on the way out of the clinic.
'I'll be seeing you in Psychology, crazy.'
She was not crazy. She refused to rise to Jonathan's taunts. What had she done to deserve them? She had done nothing to him at all.
"He thinks that I am in denial," Victoria said. "I don't need another appointment, mom. I don't want another one. I can cope on my own."
"Can you?" Julie asked. "I don't think you can, Vicky. You've seen things the no one should see. You've been through a lot. I have, too. Just another appointment...it will be for the best."
"You said that one would be enough!" she complained to her mother. "I don't need another one. I can cope on my own. I don't need some shrink to tell me what is wrong with me."
"We'll see," her mother said, turning the engine on and throwing her Vogue magazine to the backseat. "Come on, let's go and get some pizza. You can tell me all about your first day."
Victoria grunted an agreement and turned her attention to the passing scenery, longing for her time back in Chicago again.
...
A/N: So, I have already written two Crane/OC stories, but I thought I would go for a third. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Much more to come, let me know what you think!
