Trespassing

Ava’s POV

Lydia welcomed me into her office one hour earlier than my actual appointment. Before stepping into the chaos that made up her office, I glanced to the empty chair where Thomas Harrington had sat last week. He wasn't here today. He probably wasn't showing up and she was giving me his hour. Well, at least I'd be home earlier and maybe I would have time to write a quick entry in my photography blog. I hoped so, it would mean an escape from all the clothes, posses…

I took a seat in the chair like I had done five days ago, placing the old GUCCI on my lap. Ms. Coleman reviewed a dossier in front of her before looking up to me, smiling, I didn't smile back. I grimaced for a while, thinking she was reading something in my file. Not that there was much to read… my file—compared to the others on the shelves and desk—was thick as a nail. There wasn't anything bad inside it, maybe my grades were a little low—like Lydia and my guidance counselor had already pointed out—apart from that, I was well behaved, athletic, popular, well-dressed, well-mannered, flirty… I cringed when I thought back to two years ago. My life was still good then, I wasn't this… person. I looked down at the GUCCI bag sighing, feeling an urge to chuck it out the window. Though, I don't think it would be wise since it was that kind of rash actions that got me an hour at the shrink, in the first place. Which I thought was an overreaction. When I lifted my chocolate eyes, Lydia was staring at me curiously, then she glanced to the bag in my lap. I tried not to fidget, thinking: Don't ask about the bag, don't ask about the bag…

"It's nice to see you again, Ava." She said in the caring tone from my last appointment.

"I'm sorry I can't say the same…" I tried for an apologetic smile. It was true, seeing her meant my parents weren't satisfied, they thought I hated Mia… but I didn't hate her.

She nodded, thoughtful, for a minute.

"I see why that is. No one likes seeing Physiologists in their offices if I were you I would have the same reaction. Kids your age think coming to people like me means you're crazy, or someone thinks you are, but that's not true." Lydia's gray eyes met mine kindly. Everything about this woman seemed genuine and nice intentioned, I couldn't tell if she was only acting so I'd tell her my whole life story or it was true. "But it's not true. I know you're not crazy, Ava. I'm here to help you understand why you did what you did, not to help your parents prove a point. I'm here to help you, not against you." I scrapped my manicured nails together, then stopped. If I chirped the nail polish my Mother would murder me on sight. "But you need to help me, you need to tell me what you did—your own version of things. Your parents weren't there until it was over, so they only saw the aftermath. They can't tell me anything."

Resisting biting my cheek, I blinked doubtfully.

"How can I be sure you'll believe me?"

"Well, I have a degree in Psychology, I deal with people who walk into my office and, at first, tell me lies or run from the subject. I know when that happens, its part of the job. I wouldn't be good at it if I couldn't detect a lie." She entertained her hands with a pen, still looking to me. "And you don't seem the type of girl who would lie." I laughed, but quickly choked up so it would go unnoticed—hopefully. Her eyebrows flexed telling me she wasn't letting it go. "Did I say something funny?"

She hadn't. But what she implied was funny. I didn't lie. Two years ago that might have been true, since then though, I spent my life doing it. My whole life was a big lie.

"No, ma'am," I said steadily putting in action the skills that helped me get through the day. "I just thought of a joke, that's all." I smiled dazzling like a photo was being taken. "I don't see how telling you anything will help, though. My parents are convinced I hate Mia, I don't see them changing their minds. They only believe what they see and what they saw… what they saw was Mia's bedroom ripped in two." I shrugged like nothing mattered ignoring the stinging of the subject.

"Yes, that's what they saw. They don't know the reasons for what you did, though."

I didn't suppress the scoff on time.

"Not like they care. They gave me the evil eye like I was some freak on crack and kicked me into your hands." I crossed my arms knowing she was getting to me. She was sneaky, no wonder Harrington had stormed off like he had. "I don't want to be here because I don't need to be. I'm not crazy just tell them that and it's over." I didn't bother taking the begging from my tone.

Lydia shook her head, gray eyes resting on the file in front of her, then at the bag.

"Who gave that to you?" She asked bluntly, like any other curious person would do. I felt my brain wrap itself trying to protect information from slipping out. My lips remained pressed together. "Ava, I don't want this session to be a repeat of our last one. I don't think you want to run in circles every time you come here. It's just wasting an hour of your life and your patents' money. You don't want that, right?" No, I didn't, but I wasn't about to spill all my secrets to this woman. What if once I started I couldn't stop? No, I couldn't risk that. My parents and her think they know what's best—what's best for me, but they don't. "We're just talking here, sweetie. Anything you tell me is strictly confidential, even from your parents." My dead ahead gaze flattered when I dared focus on her.

It had been a long time since I shared anything with anyone. My blog was a nice escape, I could discuss my passion for photography, the only thing I kept alive, but it didn't last. Plus, I didn't talk about my problems and, by now, I had so many things bottled up inside my chest it hurt… it hurt and…

"I tore her room apart," my mouth let out before I knew it. "Because… I'm sick of her…" Oh God, what was I saying? Please don't let me go on, don't go on! "Of her memory," my heartbeat was flaring so much I thought I was going to pass out. Fortunately, my mouth shut itself.

Lydia accessed me for a short minute that felt like an eternity. I thought she was going to yell at me and say I shouldn't talk about my sister that way because she was no longer with us, because she couldn't defend herself, because her memory was untouchable. Ms. Coleman smiled brightly; you'd think she had won the lottery. I wondered just how sane my shrink was…

"That's good, Ava. You can go on, nothing will happen, no one's going to jump you or—"

Ijumped at the door opening brusquely. My heart slammed into my ribcage, I was too spooked to look over my shoulder to see what was going on. Lydia's surprise diminished when her eyes looked over me to the door, a pleased expression showing on her facials.

"Ah, Trip, I thought you weren't going to show." She said looking towards who I now knew to be the rich Thomas Harrington. I blinked before stealing a fleeting glance over the slim curve of my shoulder.

Thomas looked disgruntled, the tousled hair I'd seen last week, was now messier like he'd been caught in a whirlwind, and the white T-shirt along with his coffee-beige trench coat was slightly rumpled. His light sapphire eyes pierced through anything they locked on.

"I wasn't planning on it," he gritted keeping his words in check. "Until someone called my Father telling him I was twenty minutes late." Ms. Coleman repressed a second chuckle looking beyond the door to a man dressed impeccably in black, hands lapped over one another, he could only be a bodyguard or something.

"Now who would do that?" She shrugged with a sweet expression, while Thomas smirked bitterly.

"Someone who doesn't know what me storming out means," he definitely wasn't a happy guy right now. "He sent his driver to get me—more like drag me here."

"Oh, were you doing something important?"

"That's not the point—" Finally, his piercing, angry eyes fell to me. I drew my shoulders in trying to blend in like a chameleon. Trip tilted his head to one side. "Why am I even here? My hour's already been taken." His voice got lower and he shifted his gaze from me.

Lydia had gotten up and walked around her desk, our eyes followed her movements at the same time, each one of us wondering what she was planning next. The door was closed, leaving Mr. Brooding outside. We stared with a suspicion at Ms. Coleman, though, I couldn't help but notice Thomas' had it in bigger volumes.

"Take a seat, Trip." I almost lost my jaw. What was she doing…? I was still sitting right here! "Take a seat, Trip." She repeated, this time motioning to the spare chair next to mine.

Thomas didn't move, he chose to slit his eyes at her. When he saw he didn't have a choice he ended up plopping next to me.

"Not that I want to tell you how to do your job, but this seems highly unorthodox." I couldn't agree more. I wasn't talking without an audience; did she think I would talk now? She was crazy; I think she needed help not us.

Lydia pulled a file from a stack on her desk. It was thicker than mine, much, much thicker. I spied a look at the boy next to me. My Mother would flip if she knew I met him. She always went on about how I would be lucky to get to model for Giselle Harrington. God I would die before that happened; I was still trying to figure out how not to be a model for the rest of my young life.

"Maybe," she absently mumbled. "But you two aren't talking to me." She said with a great deal of dismay. "Our last session you spent an hour avoiding any subject with meaningless comments about my disorganized office, Ava, though, I have to thank you for spotting this out for me." Lydia pointed to the engagement ring on her finger. Last time I saw it, it had been laying under two dossiers.

"Your fiancee must be a lucky man…" I muffled a snicker at Trip's smartass comment.

"I think he is, but that's not the point," she lowered her hand, face becoming a bit more serious. "You have a habit to quit after the first session." That was for Thomas who scowled, having lost the funny edge. Lydia sighed. "I don't think I can convince you that I can help you, Thomas. You've been to many of my colleagues and you didn't open up to any of them. I don't think I'll help you by forcing you to come here." Her shiny gray eyes stopped on me, then went back to Trip. "I think you two should help each other." And I think I was knocked out for a second… did I miss anything? I didn't know this person from anywhere. I talked with him for two minutes in the hallway of a Psychologist's office. Sure I saw him on magazines or in the news and he was gossip at school, but it didn't mean I wanted to hang with him or whatever she was suggesting. Besides, if my Mom got wind of it… the little shred of hope I had, for my life to be mine again, would burn.

"No." I got out strongly. I swear Thomas' and Lydia's head spun to me with equal speed and admiration. Was he actually considering this? "No, I don't have time for this. My parents sent me here so I'd talk to you. They'll leave me alone if you tell them I'm not crazy and just fifteen minutes ago you said I wasn't. So there, your job is done. Just tell them that." I took the GUCCI bag wishing I could tear it in two, then flinched recalling what I'd done to Mia's photographs, I was ready to step out of the room—

"Help how?" I turned my head abruptly to the side, spotting the back of Thomas' hazel head.

Lydia tuned down her excitement when she caught me eying her.

"Well, I want you to spend some time together. I want you to talk to each other."

"How's that going to help anything? What makes you think I'll talk to her about my problems, or she'll talk about hers?"

"Because… I know you will." I frowned and I bet he did too. "You normally don't talk to adults about your problems. You teenagers rather talk to your peers. Besides, neither one of you is a shrink." I saw her mouth corners turn up a little. "You would come here once a week at the same hour and you would tell me if it was working out. Then if you felt more comfortable talking about anything, we could talk."

Every muscle in my body stilled when Trip's eyes caught onto me, I felt my hand soften on the door handle for a little while. What Lydia was suggesting sure seemed… easy enough and true. But… Thomas' eyes were gone.

"How would you even know we were spending time together?" He was asking all the questions I wanted answered. I found my shoulder leaning on the door.

Lydia laughed like he'd said something funny, just as I'd done earlier.

"Well," she stopped shortly after making her eyes focus on us. "Ava's a pretty girl don't you think so, Trip?" Trip's shoulders gave a sudden jump at the blunt question. "I bet you wouldn't find it a torture to spend a couple of hours a day with her, even if the two of you just decided to stare at each other." I was blushing under my faint makeup; it only got worse with what came next. "And I'm sure Ava thinks you're very handsome as well."

"Huh…" I found myself muttering awkwardly. Thankfully, Trip didn't turn his head around, I nearly sighed.

"You're parents wouldn't have to know," Lydia informed stacking some papers from printing machine a little behind her chair, clipping them together. "As far as they'd be concerned, you two would still come here, which you would—but having sessions together."

My parents wouldn't have to know? That was great. My Mom wouldn't find out about Thomas and me sharing the same shrink, but where would I find the time to be with him? I had school, not that I was doing too well in that department, then Track practices, photo shoots, and parties to attend… I could barely have two hours to myself, and that little time I had was to blog.

"What do you say?"

The longest time slipped past us. The room's quietness was unnerving to say the least, it felt like we were being given a short time limit to make a life and death decision. She made it sound tempting, come here and talk only if I—we—wanted too? Which would be never? Sure, I wanted that. But there was another part of me that couldn't see this working…

"Fine," Trip stated with boredom, his head resting on his hand. "I'll take the deal if it means I won't get dragged out from my own house."

I blinked. What…? What did I say now? Lydia joined her hands with a face that made her look like a complete saint, I would've smiled if the situation didn't feel so… I don't know, life changing.

"Ava?" My fingers dug into the GUCCI, and I was pretty sure my nail marks would remain. "Do you accept this?"

Spending time with a millionaire, hot seventeen year-old? If I was any other girl I would've already said 'yes'. But Trip had what I wanted to run away from desperately. Spot light, cameras, magazines… I didn't want the attention. I didn't want to talk about my problems with Ms. Coleman either, she was going to write everything in that file. I didn't want my fears and feelings to be written down. I just wanted peace of mind and people to live their lives so I could live mine as I wished.

Thomas shifted glancing over his shoulder at my face. He stared politely, not like he was undressing me as all the jocks in my school did. I hated when that happened, they might think it made me feel good, but it didn't. I stared back at him just as steadily. I kept up with his gaze. There was nothing bitter on Trip's face, then... he winked at me subtly. I rolled my eyes at the gesture having done the same five days ago. My phone began vibrating the pocket of my jeans; it was probably my Mom checking up on me, making sure I was here not halfway to the next county or something. She was such a control freak.

"Ava?" I heard again. The phone vibrated. I had to answer it or she'd lecture me like there was no tomorrow, but I couldn't do it in here... and Ms. Coleman wouldn't stop until she had what she wanted.

"Yes, alright. I agree to it." Wasn't she lucky that my Mother had impeccable timing? Without further ado, I left the room to answer my cell. "Yes, Mom?" I slipped past the man in the black suit, I can't believe he was still standing perfectly still... I got into the office's bathroom to talk more privately. "My appointment got pushed up an hour so I'm finishing up. Yes... huh, I'm heading straight home, I have homework for tomorrow, I can't ditch this one—yeah. It's extra credit." One of the perks of having to lie constantly, was that it became like breathing. There was no homework, since she though there was and it was extra credit, she'd leave me alone and I would dedicate my spare time to the blog. "Okay, bye." I scowled down at the phone imagining it was my Mother. Then, I took a calming breath. This was my fault, I had brought this upon myself, not only the shrink...

When I got out I was met with a scolding Thomas Harrington, his scold wasn't for me, though. It was for his Father's driver. When Trip saw me I braced myself for the choice I made. Maybe this way I could stray from my parents, maybe this could save my life... or destroy it once and for all.