There were no choices at 14. Craig sat in the office of the therapist Joey had found for him, and he felt pissed off. He didn't want to talk to this guy, no matter how nice he sounded or how nice he was being, despite the games he was playing being all casual. Craig could see through those type of games.

"How are things going?" he said, and Craig noticed that he was going bald, that the sweater he wore matched his socks.

"Fine," he said.

"Things okay at school?"

"Yeah," Craig looked toward the window, wishing he was outside instead of in this little office in this overstuffed chair evading all these questions.

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He was home. Angela was at Emma's so that he could go to the therapist and Joey would pick her up after work. He was glad that he was at Joey's house alone. He needed to be alone. He hadn't liked the prying questions and the carefully blank look in the therapist guy's eyes. He hadn't liked thinking the guy already knew everything there was to know about him. What did he know? Did he know that his mother was dead? Did he know his father abused him? Probably. Everyone knew everything.

He turned the T.V. on and was thankful for the silence in the house, for the mindless T.V. shows that crawled across the screen. He put his feet up on the coffee table and closed his eyes. He didn't want to think about anything for the moment.

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Joey and Angela burst into the living room, both talking a mile a minute. Craig glanced over at them, feeling overwhelmed by their presence.

"Craig!" Angie said, running over to him and hugging him. He hugged her back and kissed the top of her head.

"Hi, kid," he said.

"Angie, honey, go put your stuff away and wash up for dinner," Joey said, shrugging out of his coat, heading for the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and cabinets, making a general racket. Craig turned up the T.V.

"How'd it go today?" Joey said, looking at Craig from the kitchen.

"Fine,"

"Just fine?" he said, and Craig looked over at him, feeling all the pent up rage just explode.

"Yeah, Joey, it was fine! What do you want me to say? We talked about how great it was that I got the shit kicked out of me every damn week for five fucking years, and now, thanks to a few anger management classes I get to go right back there! Okay? So just leave me alone!"

Craig threw the remote across the room and it clattered against the wall, the batteries falling out of it as the plastic piece on the back fell off. He gave Joey one last withering stare and ran upstairs. Joey stared after him, his mouth open, stunned.

"I guess it didn't go that well," he said to the empty kitchen.