I've Got the Guts to Say Anything

It was a week later when I found myself sat in my normal seat, occupied last week by the mysterious boy, after my therapy session that I had been forced into staying for its entirety. Joseph had called the receptionist of the therapy centre and told her if I left before 5pm, to call him and after last week’s fiasco, I didn’t feel like repeating my actions.

I sipped at my warm coffee, playing with my phone in my lap when the mysterious boy from last week came in. I prayed in the back of my mind that he wouldn’t come and sit opposite me, but I watched in vain as he ordered a coffee from the pretty barista, who was obviously trying to flirt with him and then made his way over to the seat opposite me.

He smiled as he took his jacket off, showing off a shirt that had the slogan ‘Down But Not Out’ written on the chest with some kind of funny little guy in the corner who looked like he’d just been punched out – which is when the slogan made all the more sense.

“You’re here everything Thursday afternoon, without fail.” He told me, sipping his coffee.

“Genius.” I smiled sarcastically, hoping that he would take a hint and get lost.

“I’ve always wonder where you’ve come from because you either look like you’re about to cry, you are crying or have been crying.” He observed, making my cheeks flush, “Surely life isn’t that bad, sweetie?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” I shot back, not moving my head from its position from looking out of the window, I moved my eyes to look at him instead.

“Well, they always say you should help people, and you look like you could use a hand.” He smiled, which made me feel a little weak, because it was one of those smiles that was so cheeky that it was almost contagious, and would have been if I wasn’t in such a foul mood.

“I pay my therapist enough to do that job.”

The mysterious boy with no name made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth and took a slurp of his coffee, putting it down on the table and folding his hands in his lap.

“If you don’t mind me saying, she doesn’t look like she’s doing a great job.” He spoke in a quieter tone, like he had to be careful about what he said around me in case I was that fragile that I would break at anything he said.

“She doesn’t, she’s the most patronising bitch I’ve ever met in my life.” I spat, not at him because I wasn’t mad at him, I was made at the thousands of pounds that I was wasting every year, going to therapy with a woman who essentially didn’t even care about my wellbeing.

“I’m Josh, Josh Franceschi.” He said randomly, holding out his hand for me to shake, which I looked at like it was some random foreign object, “You know this is usually the point where you shake my hand and tell me your name.” He laughed, moving his hand again to emphasise that I should take it and tell him my name.

I took his hand limply in mine, surprised at how soft they felt, I was used to Joseph’s rough skin on mine, but Josh’s was soft and warm, “I’m Paige Williams.”

“Well, Paige Williams, I do declare, now that we are on full name basis, we are indeed friends.”

My mind stopped working as soon as the word ‘friends’ left his mouth. I didn’t know why, but the word, and the idea of having someone so close to you made me feel a little ill. It made me want to cry out to him that he shouldn’t get involved with my boring life, my messed up memories and my over-protective, complete wanker of a fiancé. I wanted him to run for the hills because I knew I was nothing but trouble lurking for him, I knew I would end up hurting him at some point.

“You okay love? You seem to have paled.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine, just remembered I’ve got to be somewhere though.” I said, and hurriedly gathered my things, left my coffee half-finished and bolted for the door.



“You stayed for the whole of your therapy today.” Joseph stated while we led in bed that night, he was on his front reading the day’s paper, whilst I was sitting upright ready my book.

“I didn’t have much choice really, after you threatened to come after me if I didn’t.” I said, monotone.

“Paige, you only know that I’m looking out for you, right?” He asked, looking up from his paper, putting his hand on my knee, which made me look up from the happening of the Tudor court in The Other Boleyn Girl, “I only want what’s best for you.”

“Yeah, I know.” I sighed, putting my bookmark, which was a cut-out from an old magazine, back into my book to mark my place, before I put my book down on the bedside table that I had.

I led back down on my back, and almost immediately I felt Joseph’s lips on mine, sloppy and sticky like they always were. His hands immediately went to my chest, where he pulled down the loose vest I was wearing to expose breasts. His hands cupped them roughly and I let out a fake moan, just like I always did. I let his hands wander down between my legs and pull down my panties, just like they always did. I let him do whatever he wanted, just like I always did, because I was scared if I ever said no, that I’d either earn myself the ‘forever alone’ status, or a black eye.