Perfect (Book Three)

Eighteen: A Good Smack Upside The Head Never Hurt Anyone.

On Thursday morning, Dr. Evans shut her office door, settled into her leather chair, folded her hands placidly, and smiled at Spencer, who was sitting opposite her. "So. I hear you had a photo shoot and interview yesterday with the Sentinel."

"That's right," Spencer answered.

"And how did that go?"

"Fine." Spencer took a sip of her extra-large Starbucks vanilla latte. The interview actually had gone fine, even after all of Spencer's worrying—and A's threats. Jordana had barely asked her about the essay, and Matthew had told her the pictures looked exquisite.

"And how did your sister deal with you being in the spotlight?" Dr. Evans asked. When Spencer raised an eyebrow, Dr. Evans shrugged and leaned forward. "Have you ever thought she might be jealous of you?"

Spencer glanced anxiously at Dr. Evans's closed door. Melissa was sitting outside on the waiting room couch, reading Travel + Leisure. Yet again, she'd scheduled her session for right after Spencer's.

"Don't worry, she can't hear you," Dr. Evans assured her.

Spencer sighed. "She seemed sort of...pissed," she said in a low voice. "Usually, it's all about Melissa. Even when my parents just ask me a question, Melissa immediately tried to steer the conversation back to her." She stared at the undulating silver Tiffany ring on her pointer finger. "I think she hates me."

Dr. Evans tapped her notebook. "You've felt like she hates you for a long time, right? How does that make you feel?"

Spencer shrugged, hugging one of Dr. Evans's forest green chenille pillows to her chest. "Angry, I guess. Sometimes I get so frustrated about the way things are, I just want to...hit her. I don't, obviously, but—"

"But it would feel good though, wouldn't it?"

Spencer nodded, staring at Dr. Evans's chrome gooseneck lamp. Once, after Melissa told Spencer she wasn't a very good actress, Spencer had come close to punching Melissa in the ace. Instead, she'd flung one of her mother's Spode Christmas plates across the dining room. It had shattered, leaving a butterfly-shaped crack in the wall.

Dr. Evans flipped a page in her notebook. "How do your parents deal with your sister's...animosity?"

Spencer raised one shoulder. "Mostly, they don't. If you asked me mom, she'd probably say that we get along perfectly."

Dr. Evans sat back and thought for a long time. She tapped the drinking-bird toy on her desk, and the plastic bird started taking measured sips of water out of an I Heart Rosewood, PA, coffee mug. "This is just an early theory, but perhaps Melissa is afraid that if your parents recognize something you've done well, they'll love you instead of her."

Spencer cocked her head. "Really?"

"Maybe. You, on the other hand, think your parents don't love you at all. It's all about Melissa. You don't know how to compete with her, so that's where her boyfriends come in. But maybe it's not that you want Melissa's boyfriends exactly, but more that you want to hurt Melissa herself. Sound right?"

Spencer nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe..."

"You girls are both in a lot of pain," Dr. Evans said quietly, her face softening. "I don't know what started this behavior—it could have been something long ago, something you might not even remember—but you've fallen into a pattern of dealing with each other this way, and you'll continue the pattern unless you recognize what it's based on and learn how to respect each other's feelings and change. The pattern might be repeating in your other relationships,too—you might choose friends and boyfriends who treat you like Melissa does, because you're comfortable with the dynamic, and you know your role."