Kaleidoscope (18 page)

“Oh? Is there any particular reason why not?”

I shuffled into a different position in an attempt to be comfortable in this office—though after months of trying, I knew it was a futile effort. Still, it made me feel better to keep moving. I'm sure it made me look like I had some sort of nervous tick, but that would be the least of my problems.

The sound of disappointment in Ms. Orowitz's voice somehow made me bolder. “Well...I've been hanging out more with Austin, actually.” Her face brightened as I continued. “Last Wednesday, he took me out for dinner, and I felt like a normal teenager for once. He borrowed his mom's car, and took me to this great restaurant downtown...and then when he dropped me off...”

I hesitated. Was today really an appropriate time to discuss this?
Oh, why the hell not?

“He uh...he kissed me.”

Ms. Orowitz sat back in her chair, thinly veiling her surprise with a mask of neutrality. “Wow...a kiss? How long have you and Austin known each other now?”

I knew why she was asking. “Long enough,” I replied defensively. “Over a month. It's not like we're
dating
or anything, but it was my first kiss.” I felt my eyes losing focus as I withdrew into my head to pull forward one of the best memories I'd cultivated in a long time. “I...I've felt differently about him ever since he came over on Halloween, but I didn't know in what way was because I'd never felt it before. But...” I trailed off, as my pseudo-self returned to kick me in the gut and keep me from saying more.

“Do you love him?” Ms. Orowitz inquired politely.

I couldn't bring myself to answer her, which was answer enough. Her smile deepened, and I turned away so she wouldn't see my own smile. Love. When someone said it out loud, it made it seem like such a concrete thing...
love.

“And do you think that he feels the same way?”

I brought myself back into the room, shooing away my ever-watchful persona, who watched the world from her own distant universe. I needed to be in this one right now.

I pondered her question, with some despair. “Well, I...I don't know.”

“Surely he must feel something for you, if he kissed you! Have you talked to him about it?”

“Well...no, not exactly,” I replied. “I kind of haven't seen him since. The days following were a little, um...action-packed. So I've been putting him off until I know how to deal with it.” I hung my head low. Without the inhibition of my distrustful shadow lurking, and being faced head-on with the growing pit of fear in my stomach, I found myself mumbling along. “I'm afraid of what he might think.”

“Afraid of what he might think?”

I swore I could feel silence swallowing the entire room; even the incessant clock seemed to stop ticking. My thoughts swirled violently in my head like a tornado as I contemplated the safety of my revelation. I knew I'd talked with Ms. Orowitz for so long that I should trust her by now, but...
it's not as much that I distrust her, as I fear her authority over my thoughts.

“I...” I was losing my nonchalant demeanor. “I've only told him a little bit about my situation,” I blurted. I couldn't stop the words from coming out. “And...I mean, come on, who wants to hear that someone they care about tried to off themselves once, and doesn't even remember why? I know that would scare
me
off, because what if they just decided that they might try to do that again?”

Ms. Orowitz's face turned grave. “Are you feeling like you might be having suicidal urges?”

“No,” I protested, flailing my hands in the air in frustration. “That's not the point. What if Austin thinks I might? Or what if it's just too much drama for him, and he doesn't like me anymore? I mean, I'm trying so hard to trust him, and--”

“Hold on, let's slow down for a second,” the therapist said in a soothing tone, leaning forward so her untamed mane of auburn curls dribbled over the front of her shoulders. I frowned in silence, trying to settle my panic as I did so.

“Neither of us can possibly know what Austin might think about this situation,” she said, her voice level and calm. “But I do know two things. I know that if you're avoiding him out of this fear, it's more likely to push him away than anything you might say. I also know that honesty is almost always the best policy. Put yourself in his shoes—he must be quite worried about you, knowing that something is amiss but being pushed away because of it, rather than being trusted as a friend. Do you agree?”

“Yeah, but--”

“And if he is indeed a true friend, Jade, he'll understand.” She smiled. “If not, well then it's best to find out sooner rather than later. Either way, you mustn't let your fear of yourself drive away others.”

“Fear of myself? I'm not afraid of myself...I know I make an ass of myself, and that I'm awkward and weird and antisocial and distrusting...but I'm not afraid of any of that,” I said vehemently. “I'm afraid of...of other people not being okay with me being that way. Of Austin not being okay with it.

I mean...” I sure said that a lot, didn't I? But what
did
I mean? I sighed. “I haven't been this close to anyone other than my mom since I was a kid. It's new to me. Mom has never had anyone stick around for her, and he has more than enough reasons to not want to stick around with me, if he really knew.”

“Are you afraid he might leave you like many of the men in your mother's life have if he knew the truth about you?”

I remained silent.

“Oh Jade,” Ms. Orowitz sighed. “It's not in my profession to give you a pep talk and talk to you about all of the wonderful things there are about you...but I do want you to know that I really do think you are a fantastic girl, and I want nothing more than to help you see yourself the way that I, and your mother, and many others throughout your life, see you. It might even be the way that Austin sees you. But that aside,” she cleared her throat. “Are you wanting to pursue something with this young man?”

My heartbeat quickened, and I narrowed my eyes. “What...what do you mean, pursue something?”

Ms. Orowitz seemed to hesitate, if only for a moment. “Well...it seems you have a very deep connection to Austin. Post-traumatic stress disorder and your resulting dissociation can make it really difficult to deal with the slew of emotions that comes with loving someone. And with your low self-image, it can become very easy to use the positive emotions that go with love to fill the parts of yourself that you're working on with me...I guess what I'm saying to you, dear, is that I want to make sure, as your therapist, that an emotional investment of this caliber isn't going to make you dependent on another person to fill your voids. I don't want a romantic relationship to be overly important to you in your fragile mental state, and I especially don't want it to interfere with your progress. You've come so, so far. Do you think this is something you're ready for?”

Her words had stunned me for a moment, and the emotional void she'd been spewing about whirled into a hurricane inside of me, turning into a venom that swirled around into a defensive poison. Mind poison, I called it—it was the irrational anger or worry I felt from time to time, boiling in the fires of my flawed coping skills and turning into something that overtook my mind. They were self-destructive thoughts, sometimes leading to actions, that I was powerless to stop.

After stewing in my anger just long enough for it to boil over, I regained use of my tongue, spitting the venom out with them. “Overly important?” I asked incredulously. “You're the one who said I needed to socialize and make new friends. You even just now said it would help. Well, this is the only friend I have, the only one I've made since I moved, and you're telling me he might now be
overly
important to me?”

“No no, dear. Making friends is absolutely important!” Ms. Orowitz implored. “This is more than a friendship now, and I can see it. I may not look it, but I do remember what it's like to be young and in love. Jade, with everything you're facing, a friend is wonderful, but falling in love with someone when your self-loathing is so great and when your inner turmoil is so high can be very dangerous. I'm simply asking you if you think you're ready for it.”

I could tell that my fire had put her on edge—she was cautious and deliberate with her speech, as I normally would be with her. But today, in this moment, I was uncensored. All of the months of rage, at her for being so damn right all the time and so smug about it, at myself for being so broken, and at the world for not being able to tell me why it couldn't fix it for me, had finally reached out like a volcano in my soul.

Ms. Orowitz continued to be cautious, talking slowly in the absence of my answer to her question. “I think...I think it's wonderful that you've finally been able to be so close to someone, and I do recommend telling this young man the truth about what we've been talking about...about what's been going on with you. Especially if you have feelings for him.”

She paused. It was a long pause that made me believe she might be finished speaking, until she finally squeaked out what she was trying to say. “That being said, I do also agree that you might be feeling the need to distance yourself from him for a reason. You're very right that you're dealing with a lot of things right now, given your new recollection of a very significant past event. I think...that perhaps you should consider putting the idea of a relationship on hold, and council Austin as your friend—as only a friend—during this trying time. I really think you need to continue focusing on yourself and your efforts to get better, and I know that if this gentleman cares about you, he'll understand. Perhaps a little bit of temporary distance will be helpful, both for you and your budding relationship with him, and in the mean time, we can work on some coping strategies for your stress--”

It was then that the volcano fully erupted. I could feel the lava in my eyes, in my veins, and most importantly, in my mouth. I stood up, fearing that if I continued to sit down, the heat in my veins would have nowhere to go and I might actually explode.

“What sort of therapist recommends socializing and making friends, encourages it, then suddenly changes their mind when it seems like I might actually have a shot at being happy with it?” The words came hot and fast. “Didn't you hear what I said, that I'd actually felt like a normal teenager when I was with Austin? Do you know how long it's been since I felt that way? Do you know how long it's been since I looked at my mother, and she looked like a doting parent and not like a shaky wreck that was constantly wondering where she'd gone wrong, and if her daughter would ever
actually
be a normal teenager? It's been a long, long time.”

Ms. Orowitz was silent and stoic as I continued, her hands folded sternly in her lap. This only infuriated me more, and I heard my voice rising, both in volume and pitch. “Are you afraid this might put a dent in your master plan to fix me, like some scientist who finally made a success out of her little lab experiment?  Are you excited that you're so close to making a breakthrough with me, and that if I make my own decision I might take away your Nobel prize? Well how about this...if you want to be a scientist, why don't you invent a more effective cure for my
ailment
”--I put an unnecessary emphasis on the word--“than these bullshit conversations that you call therapy? Then we can both win. I wouldn't have to keep coming here, wondering if I'm making satisfactory progress and wondering how many more sessions I have to have before my 'illness' magically gets better.”

“Jade, please have a seat and try to calm down--”

“No, I'm tired of being calm!” I was almost screaming—it didn't even sound like my own voice. I'd never heard it before in my life. Again it was like I was watching this jet-fueled, somewhat embarrassing scene from afar while my shadow cowered in my rage.

“I'm tired of being treated like some invalid who can't make decisions for themselves without ending up trying to throw myself over a bridge or into a bus. I'm tired of being constantly reminded, every week, of how messed up I really am by coming here. And now, I'm being told that the one person who doesn't make me feel like a nutcase is someone who might be 'dangerous' to me, who I should just throw my problems at and then dump into a hole for later until
you
tell me that it's okay to drag him out.

Well, I'm making my own decision today,” I concluded, raising my chin defiantly. “I don't think I want to come to see you anymore. I don't want to see any therapists anymore, at all. So thanks for your help, thanks for the journals...but I'm done.”

“Jade--”

I heard her mumbling some sort of soothing pleas to bring me back to my sanity, or what little of it I had, but it was too late. I slammed the door to her office, cutting off her high-pitched words, and strode down the hallway to put as much space between me and Ms. Orowitz as possible.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

As soon as I walked outside and the chill wind hit my face, I felt the relief of being free. The fire extinguishing inside of me was further admonished as I continued to stride forward, one foot in front of the other, looking down as I did so to make sure they continued moving. I couldn't allow myself to stop, not right now.

I had to admit, it felt good to be angry, to yell...to have felt so strongly about
anything.
When most of my coping techniques resulted in a vast, emotional void that could feel no pain, being able to express an emotion made me feel like a magician. I had transformed all of the sadness and anger stewing inside of me into something that was real.

What did Ms. Orowitz know about love, anyway? She had instructed me to call her 'Miss' at the start of our sessions (when I insisted I wouldn't be calling her Cathy, her first name—what a suitably annoying name) for a reason. She wasn't married, and I doubted she had ever been. Aside from the sheer, overpowering exasperation of her personality, which I figured would be reasonably hard to match with someone, how would one become romantically close with a therapist? I would hate to always wonder if I were being analyzed; I'd always be thinking they would trick me into doing or feeling something I hadn't thought of on my own.

I also didn't remember seeing any pictures of children in her office in any of the times I'd been there over the months. She would be such a self-satisfying mother, so it was probably a good thing if she didn't have any offspring.

And yet, now that my anger had subsided, a part of me felt guilty for projecting my anger onto the small, fat-bottomed shrew of a therapist. It was true that, of all the people I knew, I couldn't think of a better target for the moment when I could finally vocalize my feelings, but it was also something that I'd never done before.
Had I gone too far?

The familiar numbness returned its way to me, shrouding my mind in a thick, dark veil. Guilt was so demoralizing, and it was something I'd faced, unnecessarily I'm sure, more times than I could count. I was never good at dealing with guilt.

I banished the thought of Ms. Orowitz, promising my still-remorseful conscience that I would come back to it at a later time.

Right now, all I wanted to think about was Austin. It seemed like it had been so long since I'd seen him that I was afraid I might forget what his sharp, wonderfully handsome face looked like. I thought about it more and realized that it
had
been a long time...almost a week. My heart sank with even more shame.
How could I have been so selfish?

Without even thinking, I retrieved my phone from my pocket and began tapping and scrolling through the scant numbers in my phone book. Most of my contacts were numbers that I hadn't dialed in years. He was right there at the top:
Austin Fletcher.

I continued walking, watching my boots as I neared the stop light that signaled I was only about a half mile away from home. I assumed Austin had been working and would be busy, that he wouldn't answer my call. It surprised me when he did, almost right away.

“Jade? Good God, I'm so glad to hear from you! Where have you been, are you okay?”

“Hey hey, one question at a time,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. It was great to hear his deep voice resonating into my ear once again. “I'm really, really sorry it took so long for me to call you.”

“No, no, it's alright, don't apologize,” Austin replied, though his voice had become a little quieter. “I'm just really happy to hear from you. Now I'll ask again, are you okay?”

I hesitated, glancing back in the direction of Ms. Orowitz's office. “I...yeah, I'm...better,” I compromised. “Are you busy? I don't want to interrupt you at work--”

“Oh please, don't worry about that, I have a minute for this. Trust me. Hold on a minute.”

“I...okay...”

There was some shuffling, and the muted background noise on his end of the phone disappeared completely. It sounded as if he'd gone outside. “Okay. So...what's been going on?”

I sighed.
Where did I start?
“Well...I've just had an interesting time with my therapist. I kind of lost it on her...but it's okay,” I informed him. I did my best to make it seem like it was really okay. “Listen, I...I know you said not to apologize, but I feel like I need to again. I do trust you. It wasn't fair for me to just disappear, and I don't want you to think it has a single thing to do with you. Because it doesn't.”

I could practically hear the gears turning in Austin's head through the phone. “Well...if I might ask, what
has
it been about? I'm completely in the dark over here, but I was worried about you.”

              My tone softened. “I know, I never meant to worry you. It's a lot of things, and I'd like to talk to you about them in person.” I hesitated, feeling the butterflies in my stomach again that I'd missed so much. “I care about you a lot, and I want you to be part of this. But only if you want to be.”

“Jade, of course I do. You know I do.”

“Okay.” I inhaled. “Well...can we meet up tomorrow?”

***

Austin took the day off from work the next day and asked me if I'd want to come over to his house.

“But, won't you get in trouble for calling in?” I'd asked him.

“Nah, I've been working there long enough to have a few perks.”

And so I had agreed. I jotted down his address and prepared to make my way to the bus stop later in the afternoon, braving the dry air that had turned bitter and cold in the wake of yesterday's gusty winds. This weather brought along a light, dry snow that sat like beads of styrofoam on the sidewalks and twirled into small tornadoes with each passing car.

I set out to leave, but not before reading the note that Mom had left on the dining room table before she'd gone to work.

“
Good morning honey...didn't want to wake you, but I got a call yesterday afternoon from your therapist. You don't need this note to know that we're gonna need to talk about it today. See you when I get home, love you. -Mom”

I grimaced, and my pulse quickened for just a moment as I remembered the incident. I took the note so Mom would know I'd read it and used the back to write down which bus stop I needed to go to. It would be easy though—Markson's Thrift Store was an obvious landmark, one I was now familiar with.

I tried not to think about Ms. Orowitz too much as I rode the smell-filled bus through the mostly empty suburban streets. Unfortunately the lack of interesting scenery and my urge to separate myself from the ever-present bus zombies both made it difficult to think of much else. I wondered if I should talk to her, and what she had said to my mother.

“Well, your daughter went insane today, finally snapped,”
I could hear her squeaking to my mother.
“I would recommend a psychological evaluation, and there are several different medications that I feel would benefit the obvious deep-seated anger present within her. Though really, we don't have much success with children who are as...unstable...as Jade is.”

I shook my head, knowing it was just the shadow of my anxiety that dictated these thoughts to me. I took a deep breath in, trying to dismiss the worry from my mind, and decided I would do my best to continue ignoring the subject until I got a chance to talk to Mom about it. It was a conversation that, like so many others I'd been having with her recently, I didn't look forward to.

The rumbling of the engine deepened, and the bus slowed. As it  lurched to a halt just outside Markson's Thrift Store, my stomach churned with a new anxiety.

Austin was standing, waiting for me among three or four others grouped at the bus stop, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his black zip-up sweater. Fear danced inside of me as I looked at the familiar lines of his jaw and cheekbones, set around those glittering eyes. His dark hair, hanging over his forehead, looked casually unkempt, like it was when he'd first spoken to me at the painting class. He looked calm and even cheerful, as he normally did, but his smile was contained by his pale, somewhat plush lips. Even when he wasn't smiling, he still was; the corners of his mouth still pulled into an animated smirk. I lowered my head and quelled my nerves as much as I could, willing myself to get up and meet him on the sidewalk.

“Jade!” he said, waving to me. His breath hung in the air in a puff of steam. His jacket didn't look nearly thick enough for this weather. I approached Austin slowly, shuffling my feet in front of me.

I was taken by surprise when he leaned in and wrapped his arms around me. “I missed you,” he said, pulling away so he could look me in the eyes, his hands still on my shoulders. His were filled with what looked like concern. “How have you been? And I mean it...how have you
really
been?”

He missed me?
I smiled, then swallowed anxiously as we walked together along the empty sidewalk. I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of the puffy, down peacoat I wore, which made Austin's jacket seem like little more than a t-shirt. “Well...I mean, I've been okay. I don't want you to worry too much about me. It's just been a really eventful week.” I paused for a moment. “But you...how have you been? What did you do this week?”

Austin's laugh chimed through the brisk air, seeming to carry on the breeze. “Oh, just working. I took a couple hours of overtime this week, since the only other thing I did was worry about you and think about the great ending to our dinner.”

By the gleam in his eyes and the faint glimmer of his white teeth peeking out from his smile, I could tell he was trying to be charming.
Maybe he was even hinting at something, bringing up that kiss.
I'm sure he didn't mean for me to suddenly feel like I was two inches tall. I stood in the glaring shadow of my faults, thinking of how unfairly I'd treated him, practically abandoning him after he opened up to me. I found myself remembering Ms. Orowitz's advice—“
Put yourself in his shoes...”
It only made me feel worse.

Instead of sulking, I forced a laugh, hoping it didn't sound too hollow. I picked up the pace despite the fact that he was the only one between us who knew which way we were headed.

“It's cold,” I explained when his eyebrow raised at the change of pace. “And I'll make it up to you. I promise.”

“You don't have to do anything, I'm just teasing you.”

“I know, but I feel obligated. I felt terrible that I couldn't just pick up the phone and call you, but...” I pursed my lips and bowed my head again to the ground.

“But what?” Austin asked, hurrying to keep up with me. He leaned his head towards me confidentially, as if the low-sweeping trees gathered near the edge of the sidewalk might overhear my reply. He was close enough now that I felt his breath on my face, and I remembered the kiss he'd given me. I wondered if there would be more someday.

“I just...I'll tell you about it when we get to where we're going.”

I looked around at the unfamiliar scenery as we continued walking. Just as it had appeared from the bus stop, the neighborhood was made almost exclusively of smaller, older houses, most of them only one or two stories and nearly all with pointed little roofs and square yards fenced in traditional aluminum. One or two of the houses were enormous and jutted out from the trees around them in lusciously cleared, oversized yards. They appeared like mansions amongst the others, lording over the street like antique aristocrats.

“Speaking of...er, where
are
we going? How much further do you live?” We'd only been walking for maybe a quarter of a mile, but the chill in the air made the distance seem much greater. Even with my hands in the deep pockets of one of my warmest coats, my fingers were still becoming numb with cold.

I glanced towards Austin again, really taking in the shape of his sharp face against the bright white of the cloud-covered sky. He was gazing upwards, an ever-present smile resting just out of sight on his face.

“Well, lucky for you,” he said, returning my gaze without turning his head towards me, “I live pretty close to the bus stop, just like you. You won't have to be tortured for much longer. In fact, right up there—” he pulled one hand from his pockets and pointed straight ahead like some sort of captain—“do you see the bluish-looking house with the wood fence?”

I held up my hand, squinting against the afternoon sun that lit up the clouds from somewhere deep within them. “I think so...yes.”

“Okay, that's the one!”

“Oh good.” I shoved my hand back into the warmth of my coat. “Does your mom know I'm here? Will...will I meet any of your family?” The thought had just struck me, filling me with a new wave of anxiety.

Austin snorted. “Pf, absolutely not. My mom's at work, and my sister's in school. College,” he corrected, crinkling his straight nose a bit. Surely there must be something behind that look, but I decided I would wait until later to find out.

“Oh...okay...”

“Why?” he turned towards me again, stepping a little closer to me so that our shoulders were almost touching. “Did you want to meet them?”