Insomniactic Tendencies

I wake up to the sound of my mom pounding on my door. Sebastian’s letter lies near me, and the cup I used to hold tea in last night is now holding ash and a cigarette bud. I quickly stow the cup under my bed, and light an incense to hide the stench. My mom barges in as soon as I unlock the door.

“How many times have I told you not to burn incense? It reeks, and fills the house with smoke.” Mistaking the aroma of smoke for incense, my mother grabs it and smothers the hot ember against my desk. “How’d you sleep?” She asks me, her expression softening as she notices the bags under my eyes.

“Fine,” I reply. I’m eager for her to leave my room so I can figure out whether I should reply to Sebastian’s letter or not, but when my mother beams I realize she has other plans for my day.

“Great! You have group therapy today.” She announces, collecting my incense collection from my desk and shoving it into her corduroys pocket.

“Fun,” I mutter darkly.

“Get ready; I’ll take you on my way to work.” The door closes softly as she leaves, an ironic exit compared to her attention-demanding entrance.

When she leaves I pull out a fresh set of incense from my desk drawer, and place a vanilla scented one in the holder. I remove the white bic lighter from my pocket and carefully angle my thumb away from the broken safety so I don’t burn myself this time. The familiar scent calms me as I pull out jeans and a ratty band shirt. It’s not until I’m pulling on my shoes that I realize its Sebastian’s shirt I’m wearing. I pull it off quickly and replace it with a black camisole. Taking the t shirt off doesn’t
numb the memories; however, and nostalgia sets in.

It’s weird to me how nostalgic I am for Sebastian’s car. I spent merely a month in it, traveling across country. I’ve spent my whole life in the house I’m in now, save that month away, but the smell of Sebastian’s shirt makes me feel more at home than I have in a while. I hold it close to me, the scent of cigarettes and peppermint are still recognizable under the detergent smell. Unlike his car Sebastian never soaked in the smell of his conquests’ perfume.

*

The therapy room my mom leads me too is like none I’ve ever seen before. Band posters cover every inch of the four walled room, and it’s lit by a string of white Christmas lights hanging from one side of the room to the other. It’s nearly empty due to my earliness, but there’s a few kids sprawled out on bean bags in the back. All of them appear relatively normal, but then again no one would guess my past just by looking at me.

My mom looks around the room hesitantly, trying to locate the therapist. I don’t think either of us expect a blue haired girl sprawled out on one of the bean bags to pop up and introduce herself.
“I’m Nina; I’ll be leading group therapy for the remainder of this one’s sessions.” She informs us, gesturing at me. My mom’s jaw nearly drops, but she is nothing if not classy.
“It’s great to meet you; I’ve heard many great things about this particular therapy group.” Nina’s mouth tilts into a crooked grin, like the compliment actually means something to her. She’s not like any other therapist I’d encountered.

“You’re Violet right?” She asks, focusing her chocolate brown eyes on me. I cross my arms in reply and shrug. This is still therapy, it sucks even if my therapist’s hair is blue and she seems to have a descent taste in music. However; Nina’s bubbly personality isn’t deterred by my indifference, and she smiles as she leads me over to one of the plush bean bags.

“We’re just waiting for one more.” The room has filled up more as we’re talking, and the other members of the group seemed to already have been here before, some sit two to a group. Suddenly the door at the opposite side of the room bangs open, and a voice I’d recognize anywhere floods the room.

“Not that I give a shit, but am I late?”

“Sebastian?” I breathe, my eyes widening as I soak him in. His voice deep voice is raspier than I remember, probably from smoking too many cigarettes, and his dark hair has grown shaggier over our time apart. His eyes are exactly as I remember though, the color of crushed blueberries and framed by thick dark lashes. He has almost elegant features; the kind mother’s warn their daughters about. An array of freckles speckle his nose and I can spot from my perch on my bean bag the familiar Saint Christopher necklace he always wears. He’s not religious, but the necklace had been given to him by his mother and he never takes it off. He doesn’t appear surprised to see me, and if I was sitting down his next words would have knocked me off my feet.

“What the fuck was with that hate letter Violet?” Though his appearance is different, still sexy as hell, but different, his personality is exactly the same. I feel the tears start to form in my eyes, and before I know it I’m up and running across the room. Suddenly I’m hitting him, my small fists pounding against the slender muscle of his arm.

“What the fuck was up with my letter? What the fuck is up with everything you’ve done for the last three months?” My sentence starts out normal volume, but by the end I’ve lost it completely and I’m screaming in his face. What a fantastic way to introduce myself to my new therapist. To Nina’s credit she lets me punch at him for a minute before separating us. She tells me to sit down at one end of the room and takes Seb to the other. He appears nothing but mildly amused. The rest of the room doesn’t really look affected; one of girls is actually painting her nails a dark red color, so I’m hoping this kind of thing happens a lot.

Nina sighs, and her expressive eyes suddenly look tired. I almost regret my outburst.
“Alright guys, let’s put that behind us and start by introducing ourselves.” She blows a piece of stray hair out of her face and claps her hands. “New members stand up!” Sebastian, one other guy, and a really pretty girl with shoulder length dread locks stand up.

The older members mumble as they introduce themselves sullenly, and then the newer ones have to go. Each of us has to say our name and something about ourselves.

The pretty girl with the dreadlock’s name is Tay, and she’s currently working at a Coffee shop downtown if we ever want discounted coffee. I mull over possibilities of why she could be here, she seems sweet and innocent. I can imagine becoming friends with her, but equally as imaginable is Sebastian charming her pants off in the bed of his familiar black truck.

The boy is Jack, and he’s currently working as a bagger at a grocery store. He seems shy, and I’m pretty sure he only offered up his job location because he’s used to following a leader and didn’t know what else to say. When he motions for Sebastian to go, he’s met with one of Seb’s famous scowls, and he shrinks a little into his bean bag.

“I’m Seb, and apparently I have anger issues.”

“I thought it was Sebastian?” A mousy girl with a septum piercing asks, leading me to the conclusion that my outburst hadn’t gone as unnoticed as I thought.

“Does it matter? I don’t really give a fuck; you can call me Pablo for all I care.” Sebastian mutters in reply, his arms crossed and his head turned upwards towards the ceiling. The mousy girl appears to take this seriously and her eyes go blank for a second as she mentally jots it down. Nina scribbles something in her notepad, and looks at me to continue the introductions.

“I’m Violet.” I murmur, significantly less bold than I was ten minutes ago yelling at Sebastian, he’s always brought out that side of me. “I, um, I wish I hadn’t made the decision I did 3 months ago.” I decide, carefully avoiding Sebastian’s eyes. When I finally turn my head, he’s glaring at me. An older member I don’t remember the name of from introductions catches the glare.

“Alright is it just me or do you guys know each other from somewhere?”

I think I hear an audible groan from Nina, and her likeable factor grows just a little bit.
“No I’m serious, where’d you meet sugar tits over here?” Nina’s groan is unmistakable this time, and Sebastian looks like he’s genuinely amused.

“Ok first of all lay off the medical marijuana Jake, and second of all we haven’t gone over the rules for the new members so I let it slide for them, but you should know better. Cussing is not allowed, I don’t ever want to hear that word in this room again.”

“Which word sugar or tits?” Sebastian asks smirking, and fiddles with his lip ring. I catch a ghost of a smile on Nina’s lips before she admonishes both Sebastian and Jake. Sebastian scowls and leans back into his chair, muttering about how he’ll say whatever he’d fucking like. Nina scribbles in her notepad violently, and the tip of her pencil breaks. Without a pause she pulls another from the haphazard bun she’s formed, and her hair falls back down to her shoulders. Sebastian either doesn’t notice or sincerely doesn’t care.

After a few more ‘get to know each other’ exercises Nina lets us go. The asphalt outside is hot even under my converse, and I can feel the sun burn through my light camisole. There’s a bench out front and I move to sit in it, my ride won’t be here for another half hour. A shadow casts over me and the burning sensation on my shoulders lightens up. Shielding my eyes I tilt my gaze, Sebastian Cross is standing over me. I glare at him, and pull the white bic lighter from my pocket.
“I’m pretty sure this belongs to you.”