Chapter 3
Christian
"How did our last session sit with you, Christian?" Dr. Webster starts.
Another day, another shrink. Guess we've dispensed with all the small talk. Instead of answering, I settle back into the couch and cross my arms. This is going to be a long hour.
"Well then, I assume you're ready to get on with it." You can try. "I'm intrigued by something you said last time," he continues. "You said that no one can love you. It occurred to me that for a wholly unlovable person, you're sure ignoring a lot of pleading phone calls from your family."
Oh, Jesus H. Christ. I roll my eyes so hard, they're probably halfway down the street. "You think you're so fucking smart."
"Do I?"
"You think you'll get through to the kid if you guilt-trip him for not calling his family back. My family calls out of obligation. They read the fucking brochure and they know that parents are supposed to call. That doesn't mean they want to talk to me."
"I have spoken to your mother a few times, and she sounds very distressed that you don't seem interested in speaking to her. I just want to understand that, Christian."
A pang of guilt does hit me at this news, but then it occurs to me that he could be lying. And true or not, Grace still got rid of me. "There's nothing to understand. She sent me away."
"Just help me out here. You seem to assume that she sent you here because she wanted distance from you. Yet you've admitted yourself that your mother was very upset with what she discovered. Have you considered that she sent you here because she didn't trust herself to give you what you need? Is she not the one who sent you to… Elise, is it?"
"Elena," I say forcefully. Though I sure as hell wasn't allowed to call her that.
"Elena. Do you think they're more upset with her or you?"
"I think they don't want to deal with either of us."
He nods. "Okay. That aside, there's something else I don't understand. You said that Elena didn't make you feel loved, respected, or appreciated. Those are feelings that we all inherently crave, a sense of belonging. If you didn't get this at all from her, why did you feel you needed her so much?"
"She chose me. To fix me."
"Was she choosing, or was she using?"
I grip the arm of the couch. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"You think her behavior was entirely altruistic? To help a child in need?"
"I'm not a child!"
"Elena is in her late thirties. You don't think she would view a fifteen-year-old boy, the son of one of her close friends, someone who she watched as he grew up, as a child?"
The way he frames that sentence makes me… uncomfortable. "She… she didn't treat me like a child."
"She didn't treat you as one ought to treat a child. That doesn't mean that's not what she thought."
"Why are you doing this? Would it be so much fucking better for me to have been a victim? I wanted it. It helped me. I was getting better, and then it was all taken away and I ended up here. If you're trying to make me feel like I'm better off without her, try again."
He holds his hands up. "Okay. Indulge me in this, then. You were unable to be touched. For how long?"
"As long as I can remember." Yeah, I'm that kind of fucked-up.
"Can you ever recall being touched?"
"Every touch I can remember was against my will." Beatings, burnings, otherwise ignored.
"Before your adoption," he surmises. He's quiet for a moment, flipping through his notes. "But not from Elena. You agreed to this."
"Yes."
He pauses. "What was so appealing about the harsh nature of the touch she was offering?"
"She promised me that it would change me. And after her kiss, I wanted to get my dick wet," I say bluntly.
"You know that some refer to sex as 'making love.'"
I roll my eyes again. "Yes."
"Were you surprised at how… authoritarian her offer was?"
"Not once she explained it. That's BDSM."
He looks at me for a moment, then stands up and walks over to his bookshelf. "Christian… I said this to you in our previous session, but I want to make it abundantly clear that what Elena did is not BDSM. That being said, I doubt you want or need me lecturing you on this. So… I think it's important to provide you with a resource, should you wish to access it." He walks back over to me and places a pile of books on BDSM next to me. Well, technically, they look more like guidebooks or textbooks. "I want to warn you that your perspective may change if you decide to read these, and it may make you uncomfortable. If you feel the need to talk to someone… I am on call outside of our regular sessions. On that note, I think that's enough for today."
I say nothing, but I take the books and leave his office. I have no intention of reading them, but if it'll get him off my back with the probing questions, I can humor him. I know all that I need to know. Elena was a very thorough teacher.
"We mustn't let anyone know, Christian… they won't understand. They'll turn you against me, but trust me, they don't know you like I do. Just us, you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am."
I slam my door behind me and shove the offensive pile under the bed.
Bears can also go up to three months without eating. What lucky bastards. When necessity brings me back to the kitchen, lo and behold, Kelsey and Co. is in full swing. I studiously avoid eye contact. Get in, get snack, get out.
"Did you get her to say anything in group?" I hear Kelsey ask the youngest member of her cult.
"No. She just said her name is Anna, and that she's here to try and get better for Ray." My hand stops in midair reaching into the fridge when I realize who they're talking about. "She didn't even say from what. I talked to her after and welcomed her. She just smiled, kind of, and didn't really say anything. I thought it was kind of rude."
Kelsey laughs. "Well, I saw her sneaking off towards the woods not too long ago. Guess we've got another one who thinks they're too good for us. And why does she always have a book? Like the Internet doesn't exist?"
I know it has nothing to do with me. I know this girl is really not my problem. But remembering what I saw from her last night, there's something in the condescending way that they're discussing this innocent girl that really lights a fire under my ass, and before I can think better of it, I'm actually initiating contact. "Hey, Kelsey?" She looks up at me, surprise and excitement coloring her expression. "How about you mind your own fucking business?"
Her jaw practically unhinges and the girls surrounding her start giggling uncontrollably. I make a snap decision, turning away from them and grabbing some extra snacks from the cupboard. Instead of going back to my room, I head outside in the direction I went yesterday.
As I walk there, I start to feel kind of stupid. Am I just doing this to piss off the Kelsey Cult? Do I really want to open this girl up to thinking we can hang or something? What if she keeps trying to talk to me? I definitely don't want this to be a regular thing. And yet… I keep walking, and I find myself smiling when I break through the trees and see her up on the branch, just like yesterday.
"Hey!" I call.
She looks up, startled, but relaxes when she sees it's me. For some reason, I feel good about that. She gives me a small smile and a wave. I walk across the meadow, swatting bugs for my life, then pull the items out of my pocket when I get close to her. "I thought I'd repay you for yesterday." I hold out the fruit cup and protein bar, the same kinds she gave me.
Her eyes widen slightly, and something flashes in them, but she composes herself quickly. "That's nice of you. Thank you." She takes them and puts them straight into the pocket of another large hoodie.
Her attire strikes me as strange, given that we're about to be in June. "Aren't you hot?"
She shakes her head. "No." She looks a bit tense, but then stifles a laugh when I practically dive to the ground to avoid a bug and makes space on the branch. Again, for reasons I don't quite understand, I take her up on her unspoken invitation and we sit in the same positions as previously. "I thought you were in trouble," she says after a moment.
For a second, I'm not sure what she's referring to, but then I remember our other conversation. "It turned out it wasn't a big deal. They blamed the other guy."
"The asshole."
"Yep."
She nods. "That's good."
"Still on Jane Eyre?" She holds up the book. Robinson Crusoe. "From governesses to guys marooned on islands?"
"It felt… more appropriate." She looks in the direction of the path that leads to the building with a frown.
I smirk. "Don't like it here?"
"Am I supposed to like it?"
"No. I think it would prove you really were crazy if you did."
"Do you know the book?"
"Yeah. I used to read a lot." Really the only thing to do when you have no friends.
"Used to?"
"I stopped for a while." I was with someone. And my mood downturns. Don't go there…
"What were your favorites?" she asks quietly, redirecting my thoughts. I look over and she's scrutinizing my face with a kind, patient expression.
"I read The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood more than once. My grandfather gave it to me." I smile. It's one of my few positive memories.
"That explains it."
"Explains what?"
"You stole from the kitchen and brought me something," she says, a smile tugging at her lips.
I laugh. "I don't think it counts if it's a community kitchen. But I do like the idea of wealth redistribution. Some have everything, while too many people don't have enough to eat." Trust me.
Her expression sobers. "Yes."
The shift in her mood is palpable. I scramble to correct it. "What are your favorites?"
"Little Women… Anne of Green Gables… The Secret Garden… there's so many more I want to get to, but… I haven't had time." She looks down as she says this.
"Nothing but time around here," I mutter.
"True." She's quiet for a minute, returning to her book. "How did you know?"
"How did I know what?"
"That I'd be here."
"Oh… I heard someone say where you went."
She doesn't seem surprised by this. "The girls."
"You know them?"
"I know what a group of girls is like."
"Don't pay attention to them. I don't. They're fucking miserable, so they try to make everyone else miserable. It's stupid."
She shrugs. "It must be hard to feel all that pressure. That's all it is. They want to fit in, and I'm something new to talk about."
The… maturity of her statement, said so matter-of-factly, surprises me. "You don't want to fit in?"
She looks out at the meadow, seeming to consider her words. "Not if it makes me something I'm not. Do you?"
I scoff. "Not with them." A sense of belonging is something I've learned to live without.
"No," she agrees. "But… I can't blame them. It would be nice to belong." I almost feel as though she just read my mind and answered my thoughts, and with a startling level of comprehension. Does she see me?
"Why wouldn't you belong? You're… kind." She is. She's gentle. And she gave food to a pissy, hungry stranger. To me.
"You are, too."
I guess her curious blue eyes are just for show. She clearly doesn't see me yet. Before I can think of an answer, or whether or not I want to answer, there's the distant clanging of the bell signaling the start of dinner. Like Pavlov's dogs, that's how we're summoned. "We should go."
I slide off the branch and turn to see that she gets off okay, but she's stayed put. "You go. I'm… not hungry. I mean, I'll be along later." She almost sounds like she's arguing with herself.
I'm already hungry again, so I just shrug. "Suit yourself. See you around, Anna." Part of me hopes that's true. She's the only tolerable conversation I've had in what feels like years.
"Bye, Christian."
I turn to look at her once more before I go into the tree line, and she's set the book aside, her legs pulled up to her chest as she leans against the tree. When I talk to her, she doesn't seem fragile. She seems… soft-hearted, yes, but wise and strong at the same time. But now, she looks breakable. Lost.
Like me.
And somehow, I know I won't really be avoiding her, no matter what I tell myself. I don't think I want to.
A/N: Enough teen angst to make you want to bash your head against a wall yet? I get that it might seem strange for a therapist to give BDSM reading material to a fifteen-year-old boy, but Christian's case isn't exactly normal, and I read that for patients who are identifying with their abusers, it's better to stick to facts. Anyway, what are your thoughts on Ana and Christian, the real reason we're all here? (Reminder that he spells her name differently in his head!)
Good news: yesterday I had a little free time, so I pre-wrote more chapters so hopefully I can keep content coming even when I'm busier. There are some things coming up that I really don't want to leave you on a long cliffhanger for!
