“So, you’re saying that something I’m experiencing now isunearthing my memories of this boy?”
“It’s possible,” Dr. Angelinipostulated noncommittally.
Damn shrinks and their inability to give adefinitive answer to a single question.
“Do you want to remember?” she asked. “Or would you rather these memories remainedburied?”
“It’s got nothing to do with whether Iwantto remember or not,” I said. “I have no control over it.”
“Brooklyn, have you ever considered that maybe you’re simply remembering now because you’re finally ready to?” she asked.
I didn’tknow the answer to that question.
Wemoved on, spending the remainder of the session discussing my performance at The Blue Note and my painting project. I didn’t mention Finn’s role in the whole process, nor did I tell her that we’d finally crossed the boundary of friendship.
There was still a significant part of me that didn’t want to admit anything had changed between the two of us. There was also a smaller, yet equally vocal, part of me that was afraid if I admitted our relationship out loud to Dr. Angelini, I would jinx the entire thing, and it would fall apart before it had ever had a change to fall fully together.
As I stood to leave, Dr. Angelini rose from behind her desk andstilled me by placing one manicured hand lightly on my forearm.
“For what it’s worth, Brooklyn, Ithink you’ve shown tremendous progress in the past few months,” she said, her eyes detachedly compassionate in a clinical sort of way. “The fact that you’re finally opening up and allowing yourself to embrace the past can is extremely brave, not to mention exceedingly more healthy than your previous coping strategies.”
“What, doc, you didn’t approve of the meaningless sex and tequila binges?”I asked playfully, uncomfortable with the serious turn our conversation had taken.
She was being complimentary – supportive even –and it instantly made me uneasy. I knew I was being cynical, but in my experience, people were rarely genuine and sincere compliments were few and far between. Since I’d also never been on the receiving end of many – my father hadn’t exactly been Brady Bunch material – I was wary of the look in Dr. Angelini’s eyes, which could easily be classified as pride.
“Brooklyn,” Dr. Angelini said, pulling me back to the present. “Evenyoudidn’t approve of your sexual activities or alcohol abuse.” One sculpted eyebrow lifted sardonically from behind her square-framed Chanel glasses as she stared at me.
“How do you figure that, doc?” I asked.
“You wouldn’t bestanding here in my office if you did.”
***
After the session, I headed to Maria’s and ordered two Greek salads – dinner for Lexi and I. Thankfully, no one I knew was in line so I didn’t have to make small talk. There were few things I hated more than idle chitchat: the inane volley of meaningless words, nothing more than fillers in an otherwise uncomfortable silence.
Oneof the many things I failed to understand about so-called ‘normal’ people was their inability to just enjoy the quiet. Were they so afraid of others’ judgment that they felt it necessary to prattle on indefinitely, in hopes of keeping the conversation superficial and safe? Or was it that they were afraid to look, even for a short time, into the depths of their own mind – totrulyexamine their own thoughts –for fear they wouldn’t like what they saw?
I didn’t know.
All Ididknow was that nine out of ten people I encountered had no concept of the value in simply sharing a silence. And I guess that was kind of a shame for them, because there was a certain kind of purity, intimacy even, in just sitting with someone and not feeling the need to speak at all.
One of the only people I’d everfelt that with was Finn.
I hadn’t heard from him since he’d left my apartment several hours ago, but I was glad for the time alone. He knew me well enough to understand that I needed space enough to process everything that had happened between us last night – but not so much space that I had time to talk myself out of becoming involved with him altogether.
Even though Finn hadn’t said it in so many words, I was relatively sure he wanted “us” to be more long-term than a single sleepover. It was his actions that spoke to me the loudest – his feather-light caresses as he’d made love to me, the constellation of stars he’d hand-painted on my ceiling the next morning, even his stupid ‘princess’ pet name. They all pointed to one thing: a relationship of some kind.
I knew I’d freak out if I over-analyzed it, soI wasn’t letting myself think about it at all. Well, that’s not entirely true – I was thinking about thesex, I just wasn’t really concentrating on therelationshipaspect of things…Possibly because I was so focused on how good the sex had been. And how long I had to wait until we could do it again.
A quick glance at my watch showedthat it was quarter past six, and Finn’s show would likely go until nearly midnight. I groaned inwardly; six hours seemed a lifetime away.
After paying for our salads, I hurried out the door and headed home.I sent Lexi a quick text telling her I was on my way, and she replied instantaneously.
Here anxiously waiting 4dinner and details. Hurry up! :p
Great, so I was walking into an ambush.
I hadn’t been naïve enough to hope that Lexi would simply forget to ask about Finn and I, but Iwashoping to avoid it for a little longer. I couldn’t skirt the topic with her like I had with Dr. Angelini – Lex already knew something was going on between us. But that didn’t mean I had to give her all the details, right?