That night, Carswell searched through the box labeled "ELECTRONICS", throwing cords and extra earbuds onto the ground around him until he found his computer, placed neatly at the bottom.
He retreated back to his room and threw open the lid, hurriedly typing out the URL address of the site. It took forever to load, further adding to his anxiety. The group chat starting at seven, and it was already six fifty-eight.
Carswell was never one to be late, but Kai had managed to convince him to stay for the first football game of the year. It turned out to be a whole celebration, complete with fireworks and a hotdog vendor, to celebrate both the start of school and the season.
"Hey, I should get going," he had said, around four, after checking his watch for what must've been the thousandth time that night.
"No, no, no!" Kai insisted, more likely than not at least a little buzzed. "Stay, stay. The game is not even over yet! The fun has just begun!"
And so stay he had. Part of him didn't regret it-bonding with Kai, having some fun, acting like a normal teenager for once. But another part of him felt stupid. Hanging out with a drunk friend at a football game, how stereotypical could a guy get?
Was Kai a friend? It felt natural to say, but after all they had only known each other for one day. Less. Still, Carswell felt comfortable around him. Like he could open up to him. The guy was good for a laugh, too, which was always nice. Did Kai feel the same?
God. This was why Carswell never left the house.
Either way, by the time the chat had loaded people had already started talking. Nothing more than a few hellos, but it was still far enough into the session that the CarswellT Is Now Online notification was still awkward.
It wasn't just a random hub, of course. Since they had moved, his parents couldn't find a therapist at a reasonable enough price. Being cheap, they turned to a fifteen dollar,online option instead: TherapyChat. A "Simple site that will help to brighten your day and clear those problems away!"
Yeah, right.
To be fair, Carswell would chose giving up thirty minutes of his life every week to do a stupid online chat over sitting on a chair for forty-five in silence any day. Any week. Any millennia. At least this way he might find someone who thinks it's as stupid as he did.
He heard someone walk into the room behind him and sighed. No better way to start your first "therapy" session than with your invisible friend.
"What's that?" Cinder asked, plopping down onto the floor next to him. "Some sort of dating site? Like E-Harmony but for depressed, insane teens?"
"Depressed and insane, huh?" Carswell shook his head, "Thought you were the only one who thought a little more highly of me."
"Nope," she said, popping the "p". "But, then again, if I really am an illusion-and, to be honest, I don't really feel like I am one-I would be the one making you , I would be the one with the highest level of knowledge as to what amount of insane you are."
He rolled his eyes, not knowing how to respond to that. Instead, he looked at the text stream, where the professor was telling everyone to partner up and enter doubles chat mode. This will be how you primarily go through your sessions, he wrote, so I recommend you find someone likeable and stick with them. Try starting with your name, age, and ailment, alright? I'll be back in twenty to see how you're all doing.
Be back in...wait, this guy was leaving? Some therapist.
"Hey, look!" Cinder tapped the screen where it read "Messages". There was a little "2" next to the words, signifying that people had already sent him something. He opened the first.
RobertM
Robert. You may call me Bob. I'm thirty-eight and I need more pictures of feet, if at all possible. I look forward to chatting.
"What d'you think? Sound trustworthy?"
She looked down at her own feet, with their stubby nails and chipped polish. "I'd have to get a manicure first, really. No way am I letting pictures of these get leaked."
Carswell chuckled and clicked on the second message. It was from a girl named Cress A., age seventeen, same as him. "Definitely better," he said, more to himself than to Cinder.
CarswellT
Hey. I'm, well, look up I guess. Same age as you. And...schizo?
The reply was almost instantaneous.
CressD
A questioning schizo. Sounds trustworthy enough. Well, hey there Carswell. I'm Cress (obviously) (already said that) and I'm dying.
CarswellT
Shit man, it's only our first date. Way to start with the heavy stuff. What of?
CressD
Oh, you know. The usual. Cancer.
CarswellT
Casually dying of cancer. Well, I'm sorry.
CressD
Why, did you make the disease?
This was someone Carswell could learn to like, he could tell. Cynical, not to down in the dumps. Original name.
Of course, he had only known her for about five messages.
CarswellT
I guess not.
CressD
Don't go getting hard to talk to with your closed sentences and shit. That's how things get awkward, you know. So, what's it like, being crazy?
Next to Carswell, Cinder snorted.
CarswellT
Same as being sane. I just see this girl sometimes, someone I used to know. It's awful, really. She's so ugly and annoying. Hate her.
"Hey!" She complained, punching him.
Carswell rubbed at the spot, smirking at her. "You can't tell me it's not true when you can't so much as see yourself in a mirror."
Cinder scowled.
CarswellT
Okay, not really. She's my old girlfriend. We were in a car crash together and she ended up dying. I guess I never got over it.
CressD
For a crazy person, you seem very sure of yourself.
CarswellT
*tilts hat* well, thank you. It's a talent I worked hard to posses. Now, I'm curious. What's it like to die?
CressD
Getting personal now, aren't we?
CarswellT
I think it's only fair.
CressD
Well, it's fine. Throw up here and there, make a few hospital trips a month. I'm still in the process, dying, you know. So, in answer to your question, I'll tell you when I get there. I'll send you a hello from the other side, if you will.
CarswellT
I won't.
CressD
You will learn to love me.
CarswellT
Again, I won't.
CressD
Suuuure.
CarswellT
Hey, I think the so-called therapist guy is back. See you next week?
CressD
If I'm alive, yes. You shall see my messages.
CarswellT
Same thing. Bye.
CressD
I won't see ya.
Not bothering to stay and listen to whatever crap the chat leader had to say, Carswell closed out of the program, just in time to meet the pizza guy at the front door.