T. from a Magazine
AN: We all know how Brittany Taylor speaks. Rather than torture the keyboard and everyone's eyes with a poor attempt at reproducing it in print it I will leave it to the readers to provide the inflection.
"Ohhh," Brittany Taylor cooed appreciatively as she studied the document enshrined on the wall. "Great Prairie State University! I'm going there you know! Or maybe you don't? But Ms. Manson, this says you, philosophiae doctoris uh, do philosophy. I thought you were a psychologist."
Margaret Manson smiled indulgently at the slim blonde Lawndale High cheerleader and gestured for Brittany to sit across from her at the shiny new round table which Principal Li had rewarded her upon her reception of her PhD.
"Philosophiae doctoris is a general term, dear. I concentrated on psychology to better serve Lawndale High students."
"And the bump up in pay wasn't bad either. That and the chance to write my dissertation refuting any and all criticism of thematic apperception tests as a judge of low self-esteem." Margaret Manson thought as she watched Brittany smooth the short blue and yellow skirt and sit across from her.
Dr. Manson jerked her gaze up from the tight blue top bouncing as the blonde cheerleader nodded happily. She concentrated on the senior student's bee stung red lips a moment until she remembered to look the girl in the eyes, with as kindly an expression as she could.
"So, dear," Dr. Manson said. "What brings you here today? And I just want to remind you that these sessions are strictly confidential. Generally."
Dr. Manson barely noticed the sudden worried look come over Brittany's face so mesmerized was she by the blonde beginning to dexterously twirling her thick blonde hair between fingers strong and long.
"Oh, Ms. Manson, or should I call you a philosophy doctor?"
"Dr. Manson is fine, dear." Dr. Manson beamed at her.
"That's good," Brittany enthused. "Philosophy is so long to say all the time."
Again the effect of the blonde's head vigorous bobbing caused Dr. Manson tore her eyes up to meet Brittany's robin's eggs blue orbs. A moment later Brittany's pout gathered all of Dr. Manson's attention on her scrunchie bee-stung labial regions.
"I suppose you heard about our recent mishap at cheerleading practice." Brittany began. "We all fell down while trying to be the first squad in the greater tri-county area to perfect a modified, convoluted pyramid. Angie even broke her pisiform bone, I think, anyway she has to wear this ugly wrist brace thing for a whole month."
Dr. Manson knew enough of both psychology and anatomy to be able to correct the girl and to prevent herself from doing so. Besides, the sight of Brittany taking deep, heaving slow out-and-innnnnn...near sobbing breaths transfixed her.
"Yes, dear, poor Angie. And I am sure you are a good friend and will support her. But you, Ms. Taylor, you Brittany dear. How did it change you that you need to come see me?"
"Oh, Dr. Manson. I'm just scared."
Dr. Manson observed that the blonde's eyes were wide with dread. She pushed a box of tissues over just in case.
"I'm just scared to try it again. The other girls will get hurt or I'll get hurt. But I know we have to practice and perfect it. Those Briarwood girls have their fancy double inverted cupie move. We need to beat that with something even more spectacular or we won't win the regionals next month."
Dr. Manson broke down; she couldn't help herself any longer and softly stroked the cheek of the nearly in tears teen-ager. Brittany's eyes widened as she leaned into the caress. Then Dr. Manson coughed, straightened herself and pulled her hand away.
"Yes, well, Brittany, Ms. Taylor. You're very brave and supportive of Lawndale High to want to get back in there and try hard after such a traumatic event. Now, sometimes these fears are signs of deeper problems and a good way to work those out is tell stories to let our feelings and fears come to the surface so we can examine them."
Dr. Manson opened a drawer on her side of the table and pulled out a thick carefully squared stack of her beloved cards.
"These cards, Ms. Taylor, illustrate various common life situations. No words or photos, just simple illustrations of people. I want you to look through the stack carefully and select two that you feel represent your situation and your feelings about it. Don't show me, dear, until you put them on the table and tell me a story about them."
The blonde looked with curiosity at the large pasteboard rectangles and began to riffle through them, all the while carefully shielding them from the school psychologist.
Dr. Manson smiled indulgently as Brittany took her time to consider all the cards before laying out two face up on the round table between them. Then Dr. Manson's blood froze cold even as her mind and heart raced in panic.
"No, no, no. Not those! It can't be! How could I get the decks mixed together?"
There on the table were two cards from a very special deck which Dr. Manson had found from a short, very special advertisement in the very back of her favorite psychologist trade magazine, Shrinks 'R; Us. She had learned to decipher the semi-code of the advert by closely listening to hushed conversations from other school counselors at teacher conferences and seminars.
She became aware that Brittany was talking to her as she pointed from one card to another.
"Oh, Dr. Manson, yes, this is just what I need to see and tell a story about. Here…"
Brittany shuddered a bit and pointed again at a card bearing a jumble of female forms in blue many touching each other and not a few joined at their legs forkings.
Brittany continued, "Here is the whole squad after we all took our tumble. Luckily we had the mats in the gym to break our fall but we were so discouraged."
Dr. Manson bit her lip as Brittany pointed at the other card and resumed, "And here we are after we got up and pulled each other up. We're giving each other hugs and encouragement. Yes! We are a team. I can't let the girls down. We can do it."
She tore her eyes from the first card to study Brittany's second pick, a number of obviously female forms again in blue embracing and kissing.
"Brittany, I... I can explain. Um, please this meeting is confidential...ummm"
"You don't have to explain!"
The blonde leapt up and began to perform cheerleader moves which had many a pep rally caught Dr. Manson's eyes. Brittany's high kicks, splits and jumps showed of her bloomers with gay aplomb. Dr. Manson felt her blood go from cold to near boiling in seconds.
Brittany finally ended in a wide split before instantly leaping up and hugging her school counselor innocently and enthusiastically.
"Dr. Manson, you're the best. All of a sudden I have my confidence back. I just know we can beat that Briarwood squad. We're the best."
As Brittany swept out the door, Dr. Manson regained composure and confidence for herself.
"Well, score another victory for Thematic Apperception Tests. They're the best!"