This is a mistake.

Sitting rigid on the tan couch, I play with the bracelet around my wrist. If there was ever a time to fly away, now would be it.

"How are you today, Jovie?" A woman asks.

"Fine." I say quickly.

"What brings you to my office?" She asks. Part of me tries to remember her name. It's the polite thing to do. Too bad I don't feel like being polite right now.

"Couldn't tell ya." I shrug, fixating my gaze on anything but her.

"I see." She purses her lips and studies me. I'm happy someone does. I don't want to see anything. I don't want to see the degrees and certificates decorating her wall. I don't want to skim the titles of perfectly unused books decorating her shelfs. I don't want to notice the details about this woman.

I don't want to see because I don't want to be here. I don't want to remember being here. Most importantly, I don't want to remember how accepting she appears to be.

My skin crawls under her gaze and I shift uncomfortably. "I'm only here because my mom paid for the session. I'm not going to share much." I already feel bad for wasting the money. "Let's save us both the hassle of trying to force something that isn't gonna happen."

A laugh catches my attention and I glance up to find her eyes, old with age and knowing, glimmering as she puts her notepad down. "Talking to you isn't a hassle."

I snort. "Nice try."

"I enjoy a good conversation." She smiles. "We can talk about anything. You pick."

A small part of me wants to talk about anything. There's so many possibilities for me to discuss. Aspen. Beau. My mom. My dad. Myself. My brothers. Peyton. College. Just when I think I'm about to spill my guts, I clamp down on my tongue.

Not so fast.

"I see."

"No, you don't." I snap, growing annoyed with that phrase. No one sees anything. No one saw how my dad treated us. No one saw the weeks where we barely ate when mom was officially on her own. No one saw what was happening with Aspen and me. No one saw the downward spiral I sent myself on.

No one saw me hit rock bottom until I asked for the life raft.

"Excuse me?"

"I think we're done now." I stand up, forcing my little legs to carry me as fast as possible.

Running outside, I collide with a group of pedestrians as I attempt to gather myself. I feel so... violated. So disgusted. So annoyed. I don't even know what emotion to dress first, which is ironic since therapists are supposed to help with that.

A few more people bump into me, people too preoccupied with their busy, Atlanta life to notice a teenage girl on the verge of flipping her shit. Maybe that plays to my advantage. I'm not supposed to be picked up for another fifty minutes. Maybe a walk to clear my head is exactly what I need.

"Well, that didn't take long." A voice startles me from my thoughts and I turn to find Uncle Ricardo leaned against the building, smoking a cigarette.

"I didn't know you'd wait." I explain tightly.

"I didn't expect you to interrupt my mid-morning smoke but here we are." He grunts, stomping it out. "Was she bad?"

"No."

"Did you need some air?"

"No." I glance at the ground.

"Then why did I put my cigarette out?"

"Because... because this is stupid and I have no reason to be in there." I tilt my chin up.

"I think you should go back in there, Joybug." He offers knowingly.

"I don't think you have the authority to tell me what to do." I counter, crossing my arms over my chest.

It's a total asshole move on my part, but it's still a valid point. After mom and he discovered me this weekend, he stayed with us for the rest of the weekend. I enjoyed it at first. I didn't have to deal with Gentry's bipolar attitude or Aspen's endless questions. It was just me, my empty thoughts and two very worried adults.

It was sorta nice to have two adults fussing over me. Then, to my surprise, Uncle Ricardo insisted on coming home with us to help. The first two days were fun. He made breakfast and made us eat together. He drove me to school so I wasn't forced to be in the same space as Aspen. Everything seemed better. A little strange, but better.

My opinion drastically shifted when she started to head out the door this morning right after my brothers. I was under the impression she was the one taking me today. However, why should mom take off work when there's an extra person lounging around with nothing better to do? It wasn't a fun ride. I have a feeling it's going to be even worse on our drive back.

Wordlessly, I follow him to his car and buckle up. I turn the radio on and he immediately turns it down. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"If I wanted to talk, I'd be in therapy." I offer and he chuckles.

"Fair point."

The rest of the ride passes in silence. Picking at the hole in my jeans, nausea kicks in as we come to a stop in front of my high school.

"This is where you get out." He leans over to unlock my door.

"Can I claim a mental health day?" I ask, Lena lets us have them every once and awhile. "I feel like therapy is a good use of one."

"Maybe if you actually sat through the session, I'd let you." He tsks and my smile falls.

"Fine," I grumble, climbing out of the car and slamming the door shut.

Marching inside, I lie when the receptionist asks if I have a note excusing my absence. I do. I just don't want to share it. Taking my late pass and ignoring her judgmental glance, I head to the hallway. Checking the time, I contemplate hiding in the bathroom for the next thirty minutes. I just need for this period to end. Then I'll be fine.

Rounding the corner, I stop in my tracks as I watch Meredith walk into the bathroom. I'm desperate, but not suicidal. I haven't spoken to her since the breakup and I don't plan on starting now. Turning around, I make the short walk to statistics. Handing my pass  to our newest sub, I focus on my feet as I go to my desk.

"You're back early."

Ignoring Aspen, I try to find a pencil in my bag.

"How was it?" He follows up, shifting closer to me.

Ignoring my instinct to lean closer and spill my guts, I keep my lips sealed. If I start talking now. I don't know when I'll stop.

After a stretch of silence, he sighs. "I'm happy you went."

Squeezing my pencil, I focus back on my work.

*****

Dragging my feet, I force myself to follow the crowd into the cafeteria. I managed to take a test during study hall but I can't avoid my friends forever. Even if I really want to.

"You look better than I expected." Gentry offers as hello, studying me from across the table.

"Why wouldn't I look okay?" I demand, unpacking my lunch.

"Because... well, you know." He shrugs, suddenly avoiding eye contact.

"Trust me, I know." I snap. "And I'm fine."

"I just wanted to check on you." He offers. "I know when you're feeling down."

"If you want to check on someone, check on your best friend." I counter. They have yet to have a conversation and, ironically, I don't feel like talking to either of them.

Taking a hint, he sits down and just when I think I'm in the clear, Jay grabs my hand. "You didn't stay, did you?"

"Nope." I whisper. No one looks at us, but I know they're listening.

"Are you going back?"

"No." With Jay, I can't help but be honest.

"Jo, I think it's important to at least give it a shot." He argues, squeezing my hand.

Hot anger pulses through me. "It's no one's decision but mine if I go back."

"At least think about it." He says, unfazed by my sudden anger.

"Think about what?" Peyton asks, joining our group.

My words stop in my throat. The list of people who know where I went is small and I intended to keep it that way. So much for that.

"Nothing, babe." AJ pulls her into a seat.

Flashing a grateful smile his way, I pick at the crust of my sandwich and avoid eye contact with everyone at my table. It's none of their business if I talk to a therapist or not. They can take their opinions and shove them up their asses.

*****

Despite my poor shoe choice and the three potential rides I turned down, I walk home. Fixating on this morning, I let my pent up emotions boil up without the worried eyes of my friends around.

"It was stupid." I decide out loud, kicking a rock. "I tried and that's enough. Right?"

On command, a crash of thunder rumbles through the sky and fat raindrops pour down. Well, that wasn't the kind reassurance I was hoping for by any means. Ducking my head, I let the cold water shower over me and fill the numbness in my core.

My feet finally carry me up our front porch steps and I sigh with relief as I step into the warmth of my house. Thank God. Dropping my bag on the floor, I begin to peel my jacket off.

"There you are."

My jacket falls to the ground with a loud 'plop' that echoes through the house. Shit. "Mom, you're home early." I look up to find her watching me with an unknown look in her eyes. "I thought you were working late tonight."

"I was." She nods. "Until I found out my daughter bailed out of therapy."

"I gave it a try." I shrug, straightening my back.

"10 minutes is not a try." She snaps.

"I'm sorry." I admit. "I...I just don't think I need to go."

"You're the one who wanted it." She reminds me.

"It was a mistake." Too much champagne turned me into a blubbering baby. Not the first time that's ever happened.

"I don't think it was." She steps towards me. "I think you need this, Jo."

"I don't."

"I know you're scared." She grabs my hand.

"I'm not scared." I state. "Why are you so insistent about this? You should be thrilled I don't want to go."

"Why would I feel like that?" She asks in shock.

"Because it's a waste of money."

"It most certainly is not." She shakes her head.

"Then tell me, how are you affording therapy, mom?" I demand. "It isn't covered by our insurance. We didn't magically stumble upon some extra money. I know how expensive therapy is. Why should I be the reason for the extra financial burden?"

"You most certainly are not a burden."

"Then how are we affording it?" I push, knowing I shouldn't. Never have I ever pushed about money. We know better than to ask what we already know. We have nothing.

She glances back at Ricardo and gulps before turning to me. There's something close to wounded pride in her eyes but she stands tall. "Don't worry about that. Just know helping you is not a financial burden and we are perfectly fine."

"I don't believe you."

"And I don't believe you." She says.

"I'm not going back."

"I think that's a mistake."

"I think my entire life is a mistake." I laugh, not having to look to know she flinches from my words.

"I can see how upset you are." Mom starts, her resolve slowly crumbling and my last nerve snaps.

"No one can see me. Will everyone please stop acting like they can see me. No one sees inside my mind. No one sees my pain. No ones ever sees a damn thing but all of a sudden, I'm the one under the magnifying glass. It's bullshit!" I've always wanted to avoid this. "If we want to see, why don't we start with you and Uncle Ricardo. Or Gentry and his blatant stupidity. Or Garner and his screaming. Let's glance back at our childhood. That alone is an entire horror series." The anger boils over as I hit the wall. "If you want to see, then let's take a look because I'm not the only fucked up one here."

A pin could drop in the attic and I could hear it based on how quiet my house currently is. No one breathes. No one moves. It's suffocating. Grabbing a dry jacket from the banister, I throw it on.

"Where are you going?" Mom asks as I reach for the door.

"For a walk." I call over my shoulder before stepping into the pouring rain. I need to hide from the eyes for a while.

*****

Looking up at the sky, I watch the stars pop up from behind the fading storm clouds. At least there's something beautiful to witness after this shit show of a day. Starring up, I try to find the Little Dipper but my eyes keep wandering away.

"The stars aren't good enough tonight?"

Tensing, I focus on the moon. "What do you want?"

Soggy footsteps come to an end as a body sits beside mine. "I had a feeling you'd come here."

"I needed space."

"No, you needed to run."

"Aspen." I beg, not in the mood for his shit tonight. "Please don't."

"You're freezing." He starts again.

"I'm fi-" a shudder racks through me.

"Come here." He reaches for me and I jump back.

"Please stop."

Sighing, he throws a blanket over me. The little warmth it provides feels like a godsend and I wrap it tight around me. We say nothing and I can feel everything I'm trying to avoid.

"Why don't you want to go to therapy?" He asks. "Don't say it's because of the money."

"That is part of it." I admit. Chewing on my lip as he sends me a look. Sitting up, I continue my search through the sky. "I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

Closing my eyes, I dig my nails into my palms. "What if it's worse than I think?"

"What?" He sounds genuinely confused.

"I-I don't want to know how fucked up I am." I admit, a tear streaming down my face. "Sitting in that chair today. Looking at all of her degrees. It finally hit me that I can't ignore it any more."

"There's nothing wrong with you, Jojo." He grabs my hand.

"Yes, there is." I snap. "If I have to sit in that room and talk to that woman, then I have issues." My chest heaves. "If I open that well of secrets, I don't even know what I'll find. I don't want to know."

There's too much for me to handle.

"You don't have issues."

"Yes, I do." I nod my head, blinded by tears. "What if they medicate me? What if they institutionalize me?"

It's all too much. Too scary. Too real.

"Look at me." Hands grip my face when I refuse and I'm forced to meet his eyes. "There is nothing wrong with you. You are perfect. You just need help seeing that."

"You're wrong."

"No, I'm not." His eyes hold me in place. The burning passion not matching the gentle hold he has me in. "There's no shame in getting help. There's no shame in being medicated or going somewhere for help if that's what you decide is best for you."

"You can't go through life being scared of yourself, Jovie. You need to love yourself because I love you so much and I think you're fucking amazing." He shakes me slightly. "Understood?"

Wordlessly, I nod, and he tucks a strand of wet hair behind my ear. "Good, you're a fighter. Don't stop now."

"I'm not." I'm a pathetic weenie who hides behind any and everything just to feel safe. 

"You are." He rests his forehead against mine. "Please go back. Give it another try."

I want to scream at him. Beat his chest and hate him for asking me to do that, but I don't. I can't. "How can you ask me to do that?"

"Don't do it for me, Jojo. Do it for yourself." He says. "You owe to yourself to be happy."

 His words echo through my mind and remind me of my own actions. When was the last time I looked in the mirror and wasn't afraid of the person staring back at me? How long have I avoided starring into my own eyes to ignore the pain hiding in plain sight? How long have I been like this and what was I like before... before I gave up?

I don't even remember. That's how long it's been and I never even tried to stop. Never tried to change. Why would I choose this life? Because I know it. Because I can predict the outcome. Because it's safe.

Safe doesn't make it right. No matter how much I want it to be. 

My family thinks I can be better. Aspen thinks I can be better. I want to be better. Even if it scares me. Even if I don't know where I'll end up. 

"I'll try." I whisper. Hating the fact I'm giving in so easily, but he's right. For the first time in my life, I feel like I deserve better. I don't want to hide anymore. Maybe it's stupid. Maybe I'm wrong, but I deserve to try. 

I owe it to myself to fight. Even if I'm my own opponent. 

Wrapping his arms around me, he brushes his nose against mine. My breathing stops as he places a kiss to my forehead. "Thank you. Now let's get going."

Letting him lead me away, I realize something. "How did you know?"

"Gentry called me."

Oh. 

*****

I let go of Aspen's hand to blink back the light as we sneak into my room. It's late, past midnight, and I don't have it in me to fight anyone. I'll apologize tomorrow.

Changing into dry, warm, clothes, I'm about to crawl into bed when there's a knock at the door. "Jovie, darling, can you come out?"

Gulping, I step into the hallway. Mom looks exhausted. Old sweats and baggy eyes on weary display, guilt crashes into me. "I'm sorry for–"

"It's okay." Arms pull me in for a hug and I collapse into her.

"I'll go back and... I promise I'll try." I assure her.

"That's all I ask." She squeezes me.

"I-I don't want to be this way." I sob. "I'm sorry."

I erupt and make a scene. It's so fucking horrible.

"Don't." She pulls back. "Get some sleep. You have company."

Half tempted to lie, I watch her walk off with a smile threatening to spread across my face.

Leave it to my mom.

*****

FINALLY. AN ITE CHAPTER. I wasn't planning on taking a month to update ITE, but here we are. 

This chapter took so much out of me and was not what I had planned at all. 

Thank you for your patience! I'm posting an announcement after this so give it a read!

LOVE YOU ALL - MO