I suppose I'm continuing this. Point of view is probably going to change throughout, but it'll be clearly indicated. The first part is Paul's point of view. Let me know what you think.
One: Paul
Casey had been pacing back and forth in front of my desk for the past ten minutes. She'd pause occasionally and look at me like she had something she wanted to say, but then she'd sigh loudly and continue the pacing. Some kids went through this every session. They'd pace and sigh, sigh and pace, and finally they'd speak up after much urging on my part. She was never one of them. Usually I had a hard time getting her to stop at the end of our session. The girl enjoyed talking about herself.
To be honest, it was actually kind of amusing to watch. I figured I'd have to speak up eventually, or she'd catch on that I was beginning to enjoy her obvious mental toil. I took one last sip of coffee and set my mug on my desk.
"Did something happen, Casey?"
She looked at me with a shocked look on her face. I think maybe she'd forgotten I was actually in the room with her. I suppressed a chuckle and continued.
"You've been pacing around my office since you got here. Don't take this the wrong way, but I normally have trouble getting you to stop talking, not start talking."
Her eyes widened. She must not have heard the part where I asked her not to take it the wrong way. I should have expected that.
She finally stopped pacing and sat down in one of the chairs in front of my desk. I guess she'd decided now was a good time to start with the talking. She took a few deep breaths, keeping her eyes on her hands, and finally looked up and began to speak.
"Paul, do you think I'm selfish?"
Thankfully I'd finished my coffee by then, because I'm pretty sure I would have choked. Of course the girl was selfish. She was one of the most self-absorbed people I'd ever met. We met every Thursday afternoon for a session devoted entirely to her.
As the girl's counselor though, I figured that wasn't something I was supposed to say.
"Do you think you're selfish, Casey?"
I've found that, especially in her case, it was always better to let her answer her own questions. Most of the time she didn't even make me rephrase them; she just answered them on her own. This time was different, though, it seemed.
"I don't know. I mean, I never would have thought I was before, but now I really don't know."
"Before what, exactly?"
"Derek said I was selfish. But he's wrong, right? He's always wrong. I can't be selfish. I care about other people. I help my mom do the dishes and take care of Lizzie. I volunteer, Paul."
She was starting to work herself up. Pretty soon she would come to some sort of realization about what she needed to do, thank me, and rush out before I even figured out what sort of help I'd actually provided.
But then she stopped talking.
"Casey?"
"He's right, isn't he?"
"Do you think he's right?"
She sighed, "Maybe."
"But you don't know?"
"No. I mean, I think I do. It's just… a shock, you know? I'm the thoughtful, caring one. He's the selfish, inconsiderate jerk."
Somehow, I didn't think this realization was going to be quite the same.