↠Friday, December 13, Directly After School

I might've found myself in the Guidance Counselor's office after school again.

This time, however, it was not because of a teacher. It was of my own accord. I still felt very awkward, but I thought it was time to face the truth for what it really was.

A trip to the Counselor's every now and then certainly wouldn't hurt. It wasn't like I lacked anything to talk about.

Last time I was here, all we talked about was my family. I hadn't even told her about my anxiety, but I was pretty sure she already knew. She already knew about...  the incident.

"Ah, Spencer," Mrs. Abbott said as I stepped into her office. "Welcome back."

"H-Hi," I responded quietly, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

"I take it a lot has changed in a month." oh, you have no clue 

"So why don't we start there? What's new? Meet any interesting people?" oh, you have no clue

"Yes, actually...! I mean, I-I kind of knew him before, but that's not the point. His name is Beckett, and uh, my teacher sent him to get me when... well, you know. H-He was just... really nice to me and-- I think that he kind of didn't want to be friends with me a-at first, but I think we've really come a long way...!"

Mrs. Abbott didn't hesitate for a second before responding, "Well, that's great, no?"

"Definitely!" I paused, "Oh...! And I got a job. My first shift was on Monday, actually. I mostly just help out the librarian and do odd tasks."

"And how is that going for you?"

I hesitated.

"I-I feel a lot better now that I can help out my family." I looked away, "But... well, work's work, isn't it?"

"Mhm," she said. "It certainly is. I hope you remember that you are only a teenager, you don't have to work at a job that you don't like. Feel free to test the waters."

I tried to brush off her words. She didn't know that I already had. And Spencer Rhodes never quits a job! 

I just get fired.

Mrs. Abbott looked at me, doing that Arm-Fold™ thing again. I was convinced that was the source of her magical powers.

"I suppose we should probably get started, huh? Is there any specific reasons you're here again, Spencer?"

"...Kind of?"

"What is it?"

"Well, I-I just, uh. I don't really know, I just-- I just feel... bad."

"Oh? And why do you think that is?"

I let out a small sigh of frustration. I didn't quite know how to explain. The counselor raised her eyebrows at me and gave me this weird look that I couldn't understand.

I looked away. "I think I... I'm too anxious to have proper friends. Does that even make any sense?"

I glanced over at her for just a second, and I realized she expected me to explain what I meant. Of course she did, how else is she supposed to--

Drumming my fingers on the arm of the chair, I said, "J-Just earlier this week, I... I came to a conclusion and I was wrong. B-But, I still feel like something is going on with Beckett, a-and I don't know what. I don't want to be wrong again."

"If you feel so strongly that something is wrong, then you're most likely right. I take it that this Beckett, your friend, has been acting strangely. I could speak to him, if you'd like."

"No!" I suddenly cried out, then felt very embarrassed, "I mean, no. No. You can't."

"Why is that?" she asked. "I think it would help."

"I-I know, but he told me to stop worrying about him so much--!"

"I see, I see. What do you plan to do, then?"

Suffer.

"I don't-- I don't know," I slumped into the chair.

 "You've talked to him, haven't you?"

"More than once! He just says the same things every time. 'Don't worry about me' or 'I'm perfectly fine'."

"And yet his actions and his words say different things."

I nodded. It was endlessly frustrating that he wouldn't open up to me. I, for the life of me, could not figure out what was going on.

"But, he has to have a reason, right?" I said, just kind of thinking out loud. "I don't think that he's ever had any friends before either..."

"Then he must be hesitant to open up to someone. He's probably scared that you'll reject him or think of him differently."

"I would never do that! He's my friend. I-I care about him."

"But does Beckett know that? Have you told him?"

I wracked my brain, trying to remember just about every conversation we'd ever had. I felt like I had showed him--mostly through my excessive amounts of worrying--but I couldn't remember ever telling him.

"... I guess not."

"Then perhaps you should."

At this point, we weren't even talking about me. But, for some reason, I felt a lot better.

"Thanks. Th-That's all I really wanted to talk about."

"Of course. See you next time, Spencer."

I took my things and left.