"Wait, so your mum's having a baby?" Jessica asks about five seconds of silence after PJ had told her the news. Jessica is joining us for lunch today, she used to almost every day but since getting one of the lead roles in the musical PJ's helping out with she's spent most of her lunchtimes in the school hall, rehearsing.
"That's usually what being pregnant means, yes," he replies sarcastically, earning a laugh from me, "What are you laughing at?" he jokes at me.
"Nothing," I laugh again,
"You're not going to be the baby anymore," he teases me, "You're technically going to be a middle child!"
"Ouch," Jessica joins, "Everyone knows that the middle child is the most forgotten," she chuckles.
"Oh no," I reply apathetically, "I'll be able to get away with whatever I want to, what a horrible existence."
"Shut up," PJ laughs,
"I'm kidding," Jessica says, elbowing PJ, "I'm a middle child, and I'm fine. Except Mia and I are twins, but she's always bragging about how she's three minutes older," she laughs.
"Nothing's going to change except the furniture in the study," I tell them, "And the fact that PJ will be spending time babysitting,"
"Why won't you be babysitting? Why is it just me?" he pouts,
"Because when you see babies you become super-mum," I joke, "Except a teenaged boy."
"The idea of you two around a baby is a little frightening," Jessica says, "PJ will paint it and Dan will… I dunno, accidentally lock himself outside while the baby's inside."
"I think one of those things is a little more serious than the other," PJ laughs, "And Dan, I'm almost fairly certain that you won't lock yourself outside away from the baby,"
"Almost fairly certain? What are you two even talking about? I'm great with babies!" I retort, and the two of them start laughing as Phil sits down to join us for lunch,
"What's so funny?" He asks, quickly squeezing my thigh,
"The idea of PJ, and specifically, Dan looking after a baby," Jessica giggles and Phil just kind of looks at the three of us for a moment.
"Who would put you in charge of an infant?" he asks me sceptically,
"Does literally everyone think I'm incapable of looking after a baby?" I ask, and they all nod. It's settled, I'm going to kill this child. I'm going to be responsible for the death of this infant. Great.
"Oh… Come on, sweet, we're just mucking around," Phil smiles kindly at me, "Why are we talking about babies though?"
"Dan's mum is having a baby with PJ's dad," Jessica fills him in, "Maybe you could share a colouring book with it," she laughs.
"Speaking of colouring books," Phil shoots Jessica an amused look, "I finished mine. Look, it's all coloured," he says, quickly pulling it out and flicking across the pages. "I don't even know what to do with my life now."
"I have some ideas…" I mumble with a mischievous smile,
"Daniel!" PJ shouts at me in shock, "What in the- What the hell are you- Don't do that!"
Phil and I laugh at PJ's attempt at reprimanding me and I start flicking through Phil's colouring book properly. There are so many bright colours! Phil loves bright colours and I'm glad that he does because when I think of Phil, I think of bright blues and greens.
"The pages are perforated," Phil says, "You can tear out any that you like," he tells me, tucking a stray bit of my hair behind my ear. God, he makes me smile. I feel so stupid, sitting at this table with all my friends and smiling like a complete goofy idiot at a colouring book and the idea that I could stick some of the pages to my bedroom wall.
"How come you were colouring all the time, anyway?" Jessica asks, and I wait for Phil's answer about mindfulness and how it's therapeutic, but it doesn't come.
"Because I can't draw," he jokes instead, "Just ask Peej. I'm quite possibly the worst in our visual arts class." PJ confirms it with a laugh and the conversation moves on. I guess the truth was something that he trusts me with and that it's a little bit special that he's told me.
"Are you sure you can't come over?" Phil asks on our walk home from school, "Even for a little while?"
"I can't on Tuesdays," I tell him, "Sorry…"
"It's okay, I've had almost all day to bask in your gorgeousness," he laughs, "What do you do on Tuesdays anyway?"
"Oh," I say, looking down and chewing my lip a little, "I uh- I have appointments on Tuesdays…"
"Alright," he smiles at me and takes my hand,
"I see a psychologist at four," I continue.
"Are you okay?" he asks, pausing our journey,
"Yeah, I am," I nod, "Just sorting some things out, you know?"
"As long as you're alright, pumpkin," he smiles, kissing the dimple that appears on my face as I smile at his latest pet name for me. He always manages to find a new one, and I adore it.
He drops me at my front door, kissing me as my hand finds his hip and pulls him a little closer to my body,
"Careful, lamb, you're gonna start something that you can't finish," he teases as he pulls away slowly and pokes his tongue out at me.
"Sorry," I giggle, "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"You'll see me tomorrow," he strokes my cheek with his hand and I lean into his touch, "You're so adorable," he whispers, kissing my cheek and departing. I step into the house and force my shoes off my feet without untying them, almost tripping over in the process before standing up and catching PJ closing the blinds to the front of the house.
"Were you watching us?" I ask in disbelief, "PJ!"
"You kissed him!" he squeals, "You kissed him and he kissed you, and you did the thing, and his hands were in your hair!"
"Thanks for letting me know, it's not like I was there," I laugh, "Calm down, it's not like we never kiss or anything,"
"I've never seen you guys kiss before," he says, "Can I ask you something?"
"What?"
"When you're completely alone with him, like, when you go to his place, is he… I mean… he's not trying to pressure you into anything, right?"
"What? No. No, he's never pressured me into anything, why?" I ask,
"He's a little bit older, and more experienced, and you're a little vulnerable at the moment," he tells me.
"I'm not vulnerable, what are you talking about?" I almost shout for clarification,
"Dan, in about ten minutes you're going to leave to see your therapist," he retorts, his voice low. He's right. I suck in a deep breath and shake my head, leaving him in the entrance hall and trudging up the stairs because while he might be right, it still hurts. All he's done is remind me that there's something wrong with me, that I 'need help', and it fucking feels like shit. It hurts. It's not my fault… I didn't ask for this, I didn't do anything to make me like this, and I don't need to be reminded of how I'm different or vulnerable or whatever the hell else is wrong with me. I quickly get changed and walk straight back down the stairs and past PJ, ignoring his awkward body language and attempts at voicing an apology, and into the car where Jamie is waiting for me.
"So how are we this week?" Jerry, the extremely lame psychologist, asks me as he closes the door to his office.
"Just great," I answer monotonously,
"Wanna tell me a little about your day, then?" he asks, and I take in a deep breath.
"I went to school," I start, this is stupid, "So I saw my friends, and my not-friends, and my boyfriend,"
"Oh, you have a boyfriend?" he smiles, "Tell me a little more about that?"
"We've been together for about eight weeks or something, but we were sort of a little bit more than friends for a few weeks before that," I tell him, "His name's Phil."
"And how old is Phil?" he asks now. He just keeps coming up with more questions, doesn't he?
"He's a little bit older, like, a year and a bit older, but we're in the same year at school," I explain,
"How's that work?" he asks with his uncomfortable, 'professional' smile,
"I'm a bit younger than most of the people in my year group," I shrug, "Mum started me early."
"I see," he chimes, "So what else happened today? Anything at school?" he asks, he's clearly still trying to make me feel comfortable while still extracting some basic information from me.
"I went home, then I came here,"
"Did something happen to make you feel a little upset?" he enquires, "You seem a little upset this week,"
"No, just something the PJ said," I say,
"PJ… He's your best friend and step-brother, yes?" he asks, and I nod.
"Yeah, he was asking about Phil, and that's fine because I've just gotten used to people asking, but today he made a comment about how I'm vulnerable at the moment and then tied it in with me having to come here, and you know what? It's not my fault that I have to be here in this stupid little office!" Suddenly I'm spilling everything and I can't stop myself, "This isn't self-inflicted! I didn't sit down one day and decide that mental illness sounded like fun and that I'd just give it a go! You've read the notes from when I was hospitalised last year when I tried to kill myself, does depression and whatever else is wrong with me sound like fun?! It's not my fault!"
"It sounds like you're a little distressed about feeling different and having to struggle with these things, and maybe a little resentful of other people that might not really understand," he says, and I scoff.
"That's the understatement of the fucking year," I hiss.
"You seem to have this ideology about being different and it not being your fault, which is true, it's not your fault," he says, "But what I want to know is where you're placing this blame?"
"I don't know!" I cry, but it's rather sarcastic, "Maybe I'm in denial, and it really is my fault for making him hate me enough to leave! Maybe it's my dad's fault for leaving me! And you know what?! Maybe it's his fault for hurting me, for doing disgusting things to me, touching me… and then just leaving like it was all for nothing!" And now I'm really crying, real tears, and Jerry, fucking Jerry, just nods like I haven't just spilled the beans on why Jamie's dragged me here. It's been four fucking sessions where I haven't said a single thing, Jerry! Now I've just told you something that I've spoken about a total of ONCE in my life, albeit in anger and it just slipped out, but even still!
"I understand," he says.
"You understand?! That's great!" I exclaim, sarcasm dripping from my voice as I continue to fake excitement, "We can really talk about this then, can't we?!"
"Yes, I-" he opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off and continue in my sarcastically excited tone,
"Let's get started then!" I shoot him a smart-assed grin, "How old were you when your dad started touching you at night?" I ask, leaning over to pretend I'm ready to listen intently to his answer, not that I give him a chance to respond, "And how old were you when you lost your virginity?" I ask, throwing my hands up wildly, "Because I wasn't even six yet. Do you have memories of your dad doing those sickening things to you living inside your head? Do you ever close your eyes and see him masturbating, or dream about him forcing his dick into your mouth?! How about other places!? What about that?! How about being forced to shower while he watched afterwards!?"
The tears haven't stopped, and the words keep coming, I'm surprised at my lack of choking and the way I'm able to hold myself up, but I feel sick. Jerry swallows and looks at me wide-eyed. Oh god. He thinks I'm crazy. No. Oh no. This was a mistake. I feel so sick. Jerry remains silent.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, standing up, but I'm dizzy, and I'm shaking. How hadn't I noticed either of those things? I stabilise myself on the arm of the chair and I think I'm going to be sick. Yes. Yep, I'm gonna throw up. I take in a deep breath and open the door to the room, running past reception and Jamie and into the bathrooms, falling to my knees on the floor in front of one of the toilet bowls and throwing up literally everything I ate today. Less than two minutes later, Jamie's behind me, rubbing my back and asking if I'm okay. My answer is no.
When we get home, it's still very obvious that I've been crying and when mum gets up to greet us Jamie just shakes his head and escorts me upstairs to my room and seats me on the edge of the bed.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asks, "Are you feeling okay?"
"I um… I- I don't really know," I say quietly, "I started talking and then I took complete control of the situation, but I wasn't really in control of myself and what I was saying… He said he understood, Jamie… He doesn't understand, he could never understand, I just- I lost it."
"That's okay," he tells me, "It happens sometimes, especially in environments like that,"
"I told him so much… but I was practically screaming at him," I tremble, "I apologised."
"It's alright," his calming voice says,
"Just thinking about all of it made me feel so sick…"
"So I saw," he says, "Do you still feel sick?"
"Just anxious," I say, moving closer to him and hugging him tightly as if he's the only thing holding me to the earth, "I'm sorry…"
"Don't be sorry, it's not your fault," he whispers, wrapping his arms around me and rubbing my back, "I'm always here for you, I love you, okay?"
"I love you too," I murmur into his shoulder, "I don't feel like dinner tonight…"
"That's alright," he says, standing up, "If you need anything, I want you to let me know, okay?" I nod and he's out the door with a sympathetic smile.
I hadn't heard from anyone in a few hours, not until almost half nine when mum came in to say goodnight before going to bed. She hugged me, kissed my forehead and just as she was about to shut the bedroom door and leave, I called her back for another hug that lasted a good five minutes. Now PJ's in here apologising for upsetting me earlier and trying to convince me to drink the entire bottle of water he brought up for me. Apparently Jamie instructed him not to talk about anything to do with my coming home with tear-stained cheeks and puffy, red eyes, or about skipping dinner. Though, not surprisingly, PJ isn't very good at obeying such instructions.
"Are you okay?" he breathes, finally asking the question saying that's obviously been on his mind,
"Mhmm," I hum, "I'm okay."
"What happened?" he asks hesitantly,
"I kind of lost it a bit and screamed at my psychologist," I tell him,
"What about?"
"I don't think that's something we should talk about," I say quietly, and he looks at me for a moment, "Peej, I can't talk about it…"
"Okay," he assures me, "Things've been a bit crazy for you lately and I know there's more going on than what you're telling me, but just know that I'm here for you, okay?"
"Okay," I smile,
"Can you promise me something?"
"Depends,"
"If something really bad is going on, because I notice things, I need you to be straight with me, okay? It's honestly starting to scare me. You and dad are talking a lot, I'm not allowed to ask about it, you're going to appointments and I don't even know for sure if they're with a therapist like what you guys are telling me, for all I know, it could be anything…"
"Peej, what are you scared of?" I ask, and he suddenly looks very small,
"Dan, I don't even know… Are you- are you really okay? Are you sick? Is something really wrong that you're not telling me?"
"No, Peej, no, no, no. I'm not sick, I promise," I say and he sucks in a breath and nods, "Nothing's happening and I'm okay,"
"I worry about you…" he murmurs,
"I know, and I'm sorry," I say.
"At least you have Phil now too, huh?" he smiles, lightening the mood a little, and I giggle.
"Yeah," I laugh, "I do…"
"You guys spend a little bit of time alone together at his place…" he winks,
"What's that supposed to mean?" I laugh.
"Have you… you know?" he raises an eyebrow and winks again, I know it's something that people our age expect to happen, but no. I haven't slept with him. Nothing like it. I'm scared.
PJ notices my quiet and taps on my leg a bit and I snap out of it,
"Um, I don't- I don't wanna talk about that," I say, and PJ suddenly looks even more concerned. I just can't win! No matter what I do, I'm causing worry! I could probably get into all the top universities in the world, come down stairs and present them all with the good news and they'd still be worried! Jesus!
"Dan, I know I asked this before, but…" here it comes… "Phil's not pressuring you, is he?"
"No. For what's probably the fifth time, Phil is not pressuring me," I say stalely.
"Sorry…"
"No, you're not," I tell him, "You're going to ask again and again."
"I'm just worried…" he replies meekly before his voice becomes more confident, "I just don't want him doing anything you don't want,"
"He's not going to take advantage of me or do anything I don't want, okay?! I'm never going to let that happen again and Phil isn't like that! This is different!"
You know what? I really need to fucking stop talking. Why do I keep doing this? I open my mouth and I fuck myself over. I need to think before I speak. PJ's frozen, mouth agape and eyes darting from me to random points in the room.
"Peej, I didn't mean it like that, I just-"
"No, no," he shakes his head, "No, you- that was all true. Dan, please… tell me what happened,"
"Nothing happened!" I insist, raising my voice.
"Dan, who was it? What happened?" he continues and I look at him, every ounce of strength I have is going into preventing myself from crying,
"I said," I yell, "Nothing Happened!"
"Dan…"
"Leave me alone, I'm going to bed," I growl and turn away from him, pretending to busy myself with my pyjamas – I really need to wash these – and I hear the door close. He's gone.
The tears finally fall and I climb into bed, sobbing a little into the sheets as I pull the duvet up over my head. I close my eyes and all I can see is my dad. It's not uncommon after emotional days, so I'm not even surprised anymore. Sometimes it'll just be good memories of days when we went to the zoo, or went to the pool, but other times it's flash-backs, memories of the times he would sneak into my bedroom at night. I didn't even know it wasn't normal, I didn't know it was wrong. I didn't understand for a long time and I hate him. I hate him so much. Sometimes I wish that someone would have noticed, I know it's not mum's fault, but I just wish that I had known to tell someone.
It started with little things like holding me and sitting me on his lap even when I didn't want to, when he came in to tuck me in after mum had said goodnight he would kiss me on the lips, and slowly it became more and more. Then one night when he was laying with me in my bed after mum had gone to sleep he didn't just put his hand up my shirt like normal… this time he put his hand down my pants and… it continued to escalate until he started having sex with me the day after my sixth birthday. It hurt. A lot. Every time. Afterward he would make me shower and wash off the sweat and other bodily fluids he'd left on – or in – my body while he watched. Suddenly I feel sick again.
"How're you doing, cherub?" Phil asks as he slips down beside me and slides his arm around my waist as I lift my head from its loll, "Baby, what are you doing in here?" I've been firmly planted, sort of sleeping, in the back of the library for a little while now, the fact that Phil was here told me that it was probably lunch. "You haven't been in class since period four," he adds.
"Hmm… I'm tired," I say, "I didn't sleep well,"
"Yeah, you don't look like you're feeling all that great," he pulls me closer and kisses my temple, "Do you want me to walk you home? I think it's a little better than you camping out back here for the rest of the day,"
"Yes, please," I yawn, and he helps me up. His hands are warm and his smile is sweet, he doesn't even seem to care that he'll be missing the rest of the school day.
Once we're at my place and up in my room, he tucks me in under the black, white and grey checkered duvet and strokes my hair gently until I encourage him to get under the covers and cuddle me. Slowly I'm drifting off to sleep and I'm so incredibly relaxed by my steady breathing and Phil's presence… Until I'm being shaken awake and Phil is looking at me with wide eyes and a scared face. What the fuck have I done now? Seriously, I'm getting real tired, real quick of all this shit. Like, come on! Yes, my mental health is a little all over the place, but that's no excuse for me to seriously lose it. I don't want that! I just want to fucking be normal. I sigh and look at Phil for a moment before braving it and straight up asking him what's wrong.
"Dan… you were practically crying, and…" he's shaking his head as he talks,
"And what?" I swallow,
"And you looked scared, like really scared, are you okay?"
"That's all?" I ask,
"That's all? Dan, that's not good," he tells me,
"I mean, yeah, you're right. Sorry, um… I had a really rough day yesterday and sleep hasn't exactly been easy," I explain, and he takes me into his arms. It's warm here with him, warm and safe.
I lean up and kiss him on the cheek, pulling his head down so that I can reach his lips for the next kiss. He pushes my fringe from my eyes and kisses the tip of my nose,
"You're just absolutely lovely, darling…" he murmurs as he kisses my neck.
"You're gorgeous," I whisper in reply, and his laugh is like music as he thanks me and continues kissing my face. And then I do it. I slip my hands beneath his the hem of his shirt and then pull it off over his head, he looks impressed by me for a moment before his lips find mine once more. He bites my bottom lip and I let out a small whimper before parting my lips slightly and inviting his tongue inside for him to deepen the kiss… and something happens. He leans over me, his hands in my hair and his tongue in my mouth and a wave of arousal sweeps throughout my entire body. An experience I've never had the pleasure of living through before.
Now, don't get me wrong, I've been turned on before, but never have I felt such an instant surge in my entire life, and clearly Phil's felt it too because his eyes are wide and I can feel how hard he's gotten against my leg.
"Fuck," he breathes with a giggle, "That was hot." I hum in agreement and he slips my top off and suddenly it's laying on the floor, making friends with Phil's shirt. My shaking hands run down his body and I lean up to kiss him and close my eyes, my mind flooding with images of myself in this position before, only with a different, much older man on top of me.
I gasp and try to shake the thoughts, but they're not leaving.
"Dan," Phil's steady voice penetrates my thoughts, "Daniel, come back to me," he says, "It's alright, Dan, you're okay…"
"I'm sorry," I weep, my voice straining a little, "I- I can't…"
"That's okay," he whispers to me, looking me straight in the eyes with a sincere smile, "You don't need to be sorry. Do you want to talk about-"
"No!" I answer too quickly, "I mean, no, thanks. I'm fine,"
"If you ever want to talk about anything though, I'm right here for you."
"Thanks…" I smile, and he looks up at the ceiling for a moment before his eyes find mine again,
"Dan?" he murmurs,
I smile at him and let out a breathy "Yeah," before he takes in a breath and looks at me properly,
"I love you, Daniel."
I don't want to go. I do not want to go. I'll just play it cool to Phil and then panic later. Yeah, that'll work.
"I love you, Phil," I giggle as he kisses me goodbye just in time for me to run upstairs and get changed before my psychologist appointment this afternoon,
"I love you too, angel," he beams, "Call me if you need me, yeah?" and I nod, because both last week and the week before I've needed to hear his voice after my appointments just because it's so full of love and care. Also, I would rather listen to someone putting my hand through a blender while it's still attached to my arm than Jerry's voice. I watch him walk down the naturally bright street until he turns into his own street about two hundred and fifty metres away and then I let myself in, immediately greeted by mum.
"You look so cute and happy together!" she squeals as she hugs me tightly,
"Thanks mum," I laugh, "Shouldn't you be at work?"
"Oh, no," she smiles, "I had to get your da- Jamie to come and pick me up, I wasn't feeling very well."
I let her slip of the tongue slide. I understand that it happens sometimes, hell even I do it, but I can't help but catch that last part.
"Are you okay?" I ask her, scanning her face, she's still smiling and she looks fine,
"Yes, sweetie, I'm fine," she smiles, crinkling her nose as she lets out a quiet laugh, "Just some morning sickness… in the afternoon," she laughs.
"And that's normal?" I check, and she nods,
"You probably don't remember the last time I was pregnant-"
"Because I was a literal fetus," I laugh,
"You're still a fetus to me, honey," she chuckles, "But lots of completely weird things can be totally normal, don't worry about anything unless Jamie and I give you the OK."
"Alright," I smile, hugging her again,
"Jamie'll take you in about five minutes," she says, directing me toward the stairs, "Go put your stuff away." I shake my head with a smile and make my way upstairs, shoving my school stuff into the bottom of my cupboard and then washing my face in the bathroom before heading back downstairs, side-stepping PJ so that I don't bash straight into him, and jump into the car. And then the anxiety hits. Last week I completely went off at Jerry and now I have to see him again…
"Jamie?" I ask meekly now that we're about ten minutes away from the building,
"What's up?" he turns to me for a second and then smiles, re-focusing on the road.
"I um… after last week- I didn't really think about- I…" I struggle to get the words out. Really, I hadn't thought about what would happen when I go back this week until I was halfway home from school. I've just tried to put it out of my mind the best I can, but now that we're almost there… What if Jerry hates me? Can therapists hate patients? Is that allowed? I'm going to have to talk about it, and my dad, and… oh god. I can't do this. I can't do this. "Jamie, I can't-"
"Things like what happened last week happen a lot, on a much bigger scale, all the time," he assures me, "Nothing bad is going to happen, okay? I promise." He stops the car and motions for me to get out, and of course, he comes with me. He always does, just to make sure I'm fine, and then he sits patiently out in the waiting room for me for when I'm done.
Jamie's always helped me whenever he can. When I was younger and had just become friends with PJ, I was, understandably, uncomfortable and somewhat scared of men that looked about my dad's age, maybe a bit older or younger too, I don't really know where the cut-off was. The first time I went to PJ's house for the night I was both relieved and scared, I remember it so well, it was a few weeks before my dad left. I was relieved that I wouldn't have to be alone with him that night, but I was so scared that PJ's dad would be the same and that it would be even worse because it would be with someone that I didn't know. At least, I thought, my dad loved me, which made it a little more okay in my mind, I guess. At about eight that night, my usual bedtime, he called PJ's dad to "say goodnight to Danny". He told me that he loved me, he missed me, and that we would make up for the night's loss the next day.
When Jamie saw that I was crying after we'd hung up he thought that I just missed my parents and was homesick or something, he sat me down and told me that it was okay and that I could go home if I wanted to. I shook my head and told him that I didn't want to leave, he smiled and hugged me before taking me back to PJ and putting on a movie for us. Jamie didn't do anything bad, and in my young, naïve mind, that was spectacular and I thought that PJ had the best dad in the entire world. I guess I still think that Jamie's the best dad in the whole world.
The day that I pushed PJ into the creek on that school excursion was about a week after dad left. I still had the idea that he was coming back, mum was called down to the school and so was Jamie, they talked for a bit and decided that my "out-of-character behaviour" was probably as a result of my dad leaving. Jamie told my mum that he knew I was a good kid and meant no harm, and that it was just a silly, playful argument between children. He had never met mum before, he'd only ever spoken to dad a couple of times when Jamie had called to confirm that I was, in fact, allowed to be at their house and such. Jamie still says he got a bad feeling about dad, just something that made him feel like he wasn't a good person. The fact that he left mum and I confirmed that for Jamie at the time. He helped mum a lot when she was trying to organise a new work schedule so that she could look after me properly as a newly single parent. He babysat me a lot and I trusted him with my life, and mum's, so I was quite happy when they started spending time together too.
The second I leave the little office I step out into reception and connect eyes with Jamie,
"I don't want to come back," I mutter as he stands to follow me, the second we're in the car again, driving down the road so there's no escape, Jamie finally responds to what I'd told him inside,
"What happened?"
"I don't want to talk to him anymore," I say, and yes, I am completely aware of how much of a child I sound like right now. My arms are crossed over my chest and I'm probably pouting without noticing it,
"Did something happen?" he asks,
"He kept trying to make me talk about things I don't want to talk about," I huff, "If I say I don't want to talk about something, I don't want to talk about it. It's simple. He wouldn't take no for an answer."
"Are you positive you don't want to see him anymore? We can make an appointment with someone else, that's not an issue, but you've already gotten so much out on the table with Jerry and I know you didn't mean to tell him so much last week, but I also know it can be hard to start all over again with someone else," he tells me.
I don't think I could handle telling someone else. Too many people know already and the idea of telling anyone else is enough to make me feel sick.
"Can I just talk to you instead?" I sigh, I really am out of options, but there is no way in hell I'm going back to Jerry, and Jamie is probably the best person anyway…
"Of course you can," he smiles.
"Can I ask you something?" I ask, and he nods, "Do you know anything about my dad, like where he is, or where he was, or… anything at all?"
"No, mate, I'm sorry," he sighs, "I know even less than you do. We are going to have to talk to your mum about this at some point too."
"Do we have to tell her?" I whimper,
"We do," he says, "I'm sorry, son. The sooner we tell her, the better."
"It'll kill her…" I breathe, mum can't possibly handle news like this on a good day, but she's pregnant! That'll make it even worse!
"Your mum is a lot tougher than you might think she is," he says, "Maybe we should sit down and have a conversation about it on Thursday, does that sound okay?"
"I don't want to…"
"Daniel, please," Jamie begs, "You know that I only want what's best for you,"
"Yeah…" I breathe. "I guess Thursday is okay."