Learning How to Swim
Just Another Dissection
“How is school going for you, Alyssa?” my therapist asked me, smiling gently as I fidgeted with my fingers in my lap.
“It’s okay,” I told her, thinking about Steven. He had asked me to call him when I got home since I hadn’t rode the bus (therapist appointment obviously).
“You seem to have some other things on your mind. What would that be, if you don’t mind my asking?”
I shrugged. “Just a friend. I’m sure you know the usual things a teenager thinks about.”
“Ah, I see.” Do you now? “What’s his name?”
“Pardon me?” I asked her, snapping my head up to look at her.
“This boy. What’s his name?” She had a teasing smile on her face, but I disregarded it.
“He’s just a friend. There’s nothing going on,” I told her, looking at my lap once more.
“How’s your sister doing?”
“I don’t know.”
She furrowed her brow. “Why would that be?”
“I haven’t seen her. My parents think it would be best if I didn’t go.” I sighed inwardly. “They don’t want me to upset her.”
Or they were upsetting her enough without me potentially adding to her problems.
“Hmm, that’s not good. You and your sister were close, hmm?” I nodded. “Well, I’ll be sure to have a talk with them. So what else is new?”
I thought for a moment, but then I glanced to her rug.
“Nothing much. Just schoolwork.”
One Hour Later
I stole the phone from the receiver and dashed up to my bedroom, leaving my parents to wonder why I was in such a rush. I dialed the number Steven had given me and waited for him to pick up.
“Valentine?” he asked. There was the sound of shuffling in the background. A door slammed shut.
“Yeah. I’m hoping this is Steven,” I told him, smiling to myself.
“Your prayers have been answered,” he teased. “So I tried a new thing today: French fries and mayonnaise. Not that cheap-o brand Miracle Whip either, I mean plain old mayo. I’m happy with the results. A bit odd, but edible nonetheless,” he told me, a smile in his voice. “I’d be happy to share sometime.”
“If it’s any better than rice yogurt, I’m sure I could pass.”
“I simply cannot allow you to miss out on such a feat of the culinary arts. Sure, it looks a bit profane, and I would never allow you to eat it around a group of hormonal adolescent boys, but it’s delicious nonetheless.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” I promised him, giggling a little. “So we talked about you in therapy today.”
“Oh? Did I grace five seconds of your conversation?”
“Nah, more like two,” I taunted, smirking.
“Ah. I’m always glad to make the world a better place. So how was your day other than the bull-session with the old woman? And don’t leave a detail out.”
“It’s okay,” I told her, thinking about Steven. He had asked me to call him when I got home since I hadn’t rode the bus (therapist appointment obviously).
“You seem to have some other things on your mind. What would that be, if you don’t mind my asking?”
I shrugged. “Just a friend. I’m sure you know the usual things a teenager thinks about.”
“Ah, I see.” Do you now? “What’s his name?”
“Pardon me?” I asked her, snapping my head up to look at her.
“This boy. What’s his name?” She had a teasing smile on her face, but I disregarded it.
“He’s just a friend. There’s nothing going on,” I told her, looking at my lap once more.
“How’s your sister doing?”
“I don’t know.”
She furrowed her brow. “Why would that be?”
“I haven’t seen her. My parents think it would be best if I didn’t go.” I sighed inwardly. “They don’t want me to upset her.”
Or they were upsetting her enough without me potentially adding to her problems.
“Hmm, that’s not good. You and your sister were close, hmm?” I nodded. “Well, I’ll be sure to have a talk with them. So what else is new?”
I thought for a moment, but then I glanced to her rug.
“Nothing much. Just schoolwork.”
One Hour Later
I stole the phone from the receiver and dashed up to my bedroom, leaving my parents to wonder why I was in such a rush. I dialed the number Steven had given me and waited for him to pick up.
“Valentine?” he asked. There was the sound of shuffling in the background. A door slammed shut.
“Yeah. I’m hoping this is Steven,” I told him, smiling to myself.
“Your prayers have been answered,” he teased. “So I tried a new thing today: French fries and mayonnaise. Not that cheap-o brand Miracle Whip either, I mean plain old mayo. I’m happy with the results. A bit odd, but edible nonetheless,” he told me, a smile in his voice. “I’d be happy to share sometime.”
“If it’s any better than rice yogurt, I’m sure I could pass.”
“I simply cannot allow you to miss out on such a feat of the culinary arts. Sure, it looks a bit profane, and I would never allow you to eat it around a group of hormonal adolescent boys, but it’s delicious nonetheless.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” I promised him, giggling a little. “So we talked about you in therapy today.”
“Oh? Did I grace five seconds of your conversation?”
“Nah, more like two,” I taunted, smirking.
“Ah. I’m always glad to make the world a better place. So how was your day other than the bull-session with the old woman? And don’t leave a detail out.”