Smirt

I had a feeling that Christofer probably thought I was an arrogant, self-centered bitch. I tried to justify why I was acting so weird around him but couldn’t produce a good reason. Maybe it was the fact that I didn’t want to get close to him and become vulnerable.

I know, I’m such a hypocrite for saying we were best friends but there wasn’t a possibility that Christofer could replace her. To be honest, I didn’t want to believe that anyone could replace her; the thought of it was ridiculous. The trip to Waffle House was the last I saw of him that day because I had my appointment with Dr. Feldman. We exchanged phone numbers though, and he promised to call me later about a party he was going to.

However, I didn’t allow myself to get too excited. I’d spent time with him for a few hours and we’d talked about loads of topics, but I still felt unworthy of his friendship. Dr. Feldman understood my dilemma; she became my psychiatrist when she was taken from me nearly two years ago.

Almost two years of transforming into someone I didn’t even try to become.

I was surprised my closest friends still tried to hang out with me by inviting me to outings, sending text messages that made me smile; just little gestures that made me remember why I befriended them in the first place. But none of them were as close to her as I was. None of my friends brought the subject up either, which I preferred.

“How has your week been so far, Dahlia?” Dr. Feldman, a woman with short, brunette hair and in her late forties, took out her legal pad and fountain pen, beginning the session with a question I loathed.

“I hate being a waitress,” I muttered, crossing my legs Indian-style on the leather couch across from Dr. Feldman’s armchair, rolling my eyes and sighing.

“Tell me about your job then,” she replied calmly, nodding at me before turning to her notes again.

“It’s the same old story, doc,” I replied, “I work at Edith’s Diner, where the tips are barely enough to save up for my rent and the customers are. . .weird. I’m lucky that I have a scholarship for the college I attend. Oh, and my friend, Gavin.”

Gavin is my friend and roommate; we live together in a condo and each pay half of the rent. Before you jump to any conclusions, Gavin is gay. When you first meet him, you would never think that because he’s not ‘loud and proud’ about it. It’s obvious after you talk to him for a bit though.

Dr. Feldman listened to me rant about work, school, and my friends, as well as my family (they couldn’t visit me that much due to their schedules). Christofer was mentioned briefly, and I swore I saw Dr. Feldman’s eye twitch when I said we were friends. Because of her confidentiality agreement, she couldn’t say a word about him.

I didn’t bring up her and neither did Dr. Feldman.

Before I even realized it, the timer began to beep, signaling it was the end of the session. Dr. Feldman allowed me to leave and I obliged, going straight home. While I was driving home, my phone vibrated, which meant that I had a new text message.

It was from Christofer, surprisingly.

I’ll call you later.
Answer your phone ok?
Be ready by eight.

Maybe he didn't think I was a bitch after all.