10 - The Best Feeling in the World

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“So Ally, why don’t you tell me about all the trouble you’ve gotten in lately?”        

I frowned at the guy sitting across from me and gulped as I resituated myself to avoid sinking into the seat of the muddy mustard yellow couch.

“What do you mean by that?” I couldn’t help but narrow my eyes at the younger man who was the school’s new therapist. The other old fool was a gullible blabbering idiot. This guy, though; he just had an aura that screamed cunning and ulterior motive with his nice smile and cool gray eyes. I wasn’t buying it. At oldest this guy was in his early twenties.

“Don’t you understand that you’ve broken the rules several times already? Or did you just think the community service and kitchen duty was for fun?” He smirked as he leaned back in his plush armchair and jotted down some notes on a small yellow notepad.

“No,” I frowned. I didn’t like his attitude at all. “I just didn’t know what you meant by the word lately.”

“Ah I see,” He smiled softly. “So why don’t you tell me why you’ve been getting in trouble? Do you want to get kicked out of here?”

“No,” I blanched. “I don’t want to get kicked out at all. I want to be here.”

Mr. Berkeley, the therapist, leaned forward in his chair.

“So tell me. Why are you acting out then? Are you angry? Depressed? Scared?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “No…”

He waited for me to continue, head cocked to the side with a ghost of a smile on his face.

I sighed, “I didn’t do anything against the rules of my own accord. Jack has been the one getting me into trouble.”

“So he encouraged you to sneak out into the halls late at night?”

“Well…No.” I squirmed in my seat. I didn’t know the school had even known about that.

“And he somehow told you to go into the restricted part of school and meet you in a closet?”

“No – but.”

“And he was the one who ripped up those two trash bags in the park?”

“Well he ripped up one of them!” I cried out exasperated. This guy didn’t play fair.

“Well Ally, it seems like you don’t have your story straight.”

“My ‘story’ isn’t a story – it’s the truth. I haven’t consciously broken any rules. Sure I snuck out once at night and I ripped Jack’s trash bag open because he was being an jerk, but that doesn’t mean anything.” I protested, feeling anger beginning to boil up in my system. “He’s the one who’s been pestering me and framing me for everything else.”

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