Kapittel 22.1

Vanessa

"It's been a month since we last talked, has it? How are you doing?" Dr. Langston asked over the phone. She was in her usual demeanor, all caring and motherly. I remember the time during my first appointment, I was expecting her to be all silent and would just write down everything I said, then unravel everything to me in a systematic matter. Like there as if there'd be a thick wall between me and her. But she was unexpectedly comforting but still retained her professionalism. But I guess all therapists had her demeanor, and I just had exaggerated expectations.

"I'm doing fine..." I was hesitant to answer her. I wasn't sure if I was actually completely fine. A part of me wanted to leave it at that. But, do I really want to leave it at that? No, I couldn't lie to my own therapist, the only one to whom I have revealed the rawest parts of me... well, partly.

"Okay, I see–"

"Actually..." I trailed off, twiddling my fingers to lessen the anxiety, thinking if it would the right decision to tell her about the things that bother me. I looked at Dr. Langston at the screen who was also looking back at me with a gaze intrigued. "Things... had been a little different since we moved."

"You've been doing well the past months. What happened?" she asked, scooting closer to the screen.

Okay, no. I had to disagree with her. I didn't believe that I was in bad shape. I was fine. I was totally fine. Maybe, I was a little disgruntled these past few weeks, but it didn't mean that I wasn't doing well anymore. But– no. I'm better than I was before. If whatever Dr. Langston said was true, then, it was better compared to our earliest sessions. That was all the reassurance that I needed. I have to be okay... for Mom and Zach.

"I... I just don't know how I'm holding up after moving. I returned to the place where my family and I used to live, but things here have pretty much changed. And I don't know how to fit into it. I needed to ride the waves moving forward to the shore, but I feel like there's a current pulling me back to the center of the ocean." I confessed, deciding I didn't put too much context on it. Was it dishonest? Maybe it was. But I needed to convince Dr. Langston that I was okay. No, not only her but also myself.

Despite that, I couldn't deny that I was generally telling the truth. The house itself, the streets that I'd jogged in the early morning, the stuff that he gifted, and even Mom and Zach themselves were reminders of Dad.

Not to mention my endeavors. Being an interior designer was Dad's idea. Not that he enforced it on me, but he was the one who shed light on my passion when he saw me redecorating the lounge because I thought seemed off. I was already a high-functioning, anxious overachiever, and his death was one facet that was driving me to reach them. High grades, a scholarship, extracurricular activities for my transcript, summer classes, finding good universities and safety schools, all of it! There were many things I needed to do to achieve those endeavors, but I was incapacitated by the mental struggle.

"I see, it's hard for you to cope with things because you feel like you've returned to the past, but they weren't exactly like how they used to be anymore. You're confused where you should stand, to remain with the past until you have accepted things or to force yourself to move on with the present." This woman never disappointed in untangling the ball of yarn within me. She always made her way unclogging every conflicted feeling within me, even when I didn't know there was one.

"I guess you can say that." That was what I could only respond to her.

"You wanted to move forward, but there are things that are holding you back. What are those things, Van?"

"I... I don't know. But all I know is that I need to move forward. You know about my dreams, Dr. Langston. I didn't want to be held back just because I was conflicted because I was living in a time capsule."

"Are you really trying to move forward to the present and forget everything about the past? When everything that you've built upon has been established from the past?" That got me silent. She was right.

The ensuing silence went away when Dr. Langston cleared her throat. "You're getting there, Van. Let's not give up." I felt like if this were a face-to-face session, she would be reaching out my hand and squeezing it to comfort me.

"Right. Thanks, Dr." I forced a smile, her words were embedded in my head.

"I'll see you in the next session." We bid goodbye before hanging up.

I stared at my laptop's screen blankly, my therapist's words still repeating in my mind like a broken cassette. I admit that she tugged my heartstrings. She tugged them hard. I leaned back on my chair and released a sigh. Tired. Feeling that I might fall asleep if I continued to rest further, I stuffed my things carefully into my bag. I left the conference room, and walked out of the library, intending to head towards the halls.

The usual gawks and gossip were never absent whenever I passed these hallways. I have grown accustomed to it, rather, I was tired of being bothered by it and pretending I wasn't. The earlier conversation wasn't the only thing draining me right now, school was too.

I felt like I'd just got my first college experience. This entire week particularly. I'd wake up with emptiness in my chest while my brain only had one word inscribed on every wrinkle: study. Exams had started on Monday and I had been pretty much busy being holed up in my room, burning brows, reading the notes and reviewers I stayed up late to make. The coverage was long enough that I had to spend 5 hours studying just one topic. Good thing my preliminary outputs in most of my subjects had been quizzes or essays to be turned in, while others had deadlines is set a week after exams. This included Mr. Mosbey's project.

I tilted my head as I descended the stairs, wondering why parents never complained about their teaching method. But I guess they were satisfied with it. Today was Friday, the last day of exams this quarter, and I had taken the remaining exams just this morning. We were free to go home or stay in school this afternoon to do pretty much anything but were recommended to finish our remaining projects if we were just going to waste our time here. It would have been great to finish the interactive book today, but the guys and I have agreed to finish it on Saturday since this afternoon will be dedicated to resting.

I planned to grab a quick snack at the cafeteria and meet with Mom by the school gate. She scheduled an early leave for today so we could have some time together by going to the mall and buying groceries. Most people might say it's mundane, but I enjoy grocery shopping, and considering how mom is busy with being the only breadwinner in the family? I was taking my chances of spending most of our free time together.

"Heeey." Someone swung her arm around my shoulder while I was grabbing a sloppy joe from the counter. I slowly turned my head to face Georgia.

"Hi," I greeted back, smacking her bum lightly.

"That was harassment!" she laughed when she failed to escape my palm.

"As if you mind." I rolled my eyes at her playfully.

"You know I don't," she replied playfully as well and even winked at me. "Where are you headed to?" she then asked, noticing that we were leaving the place, turning her head. I caught a glimpse of her braided hair shining like a threat of gold against the sun and I couldn't help but appreciate it.

"I'm leaving early," I replied before taking a bite of my sweet treat. "I mean, we're free to go home as far as I've heard the announcement right."

She tilted her head cluelessly. "Uh... what?"

"I said I'm leaving early," I repeated.

"Oh God, I thought I was going deaf," she sighed as if she was disappointed, "Girl, nobody goes home early on midterms afternoon. Everybody's getting ready to party at Laz's house– speaking of parties..." she stopped what she was supposed to be saying like she remembered something important. "I heard through a grapevine that you went to the party at Friso's house!"

"Um..." I took another bite of my food, gulping down the sudden feeling of nervousness. Confrontations were scary. "Yeah, my groupmates and I made our interactive notebook there." I remained true to my answers.

"And your groupmates are...?" she asked, raising a brow.

"Maxim and..." I rolled my eyes before saying the devil's name. "Friso."

"And you didn't tell me one thing!" she snapped her fingers with a raised voice, startling me.

"What?"

"That you're Friso's childhood friend!"

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