Fake It Like You Matter

"Forget about him, Love."

It had been 3 weeks since I'd met him, 20 days since we'd texted, and 19 since he had failed to show up at the park, not that I was counting, but I still couldn't get Pete off my mind.

"The cute ones are always trouble," Jessa assured me, tying up her long black hair, "And the last thing you need in your life is more trouble."

I smiled at her and tried to get back to work, but every once in a while I couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't even so much as sent me a text message to apologize.

Maybe something terrible had happened to him. Maybe it was like the time on Sex in the City where Miranda met a nice guy who asked her out and then never showed up. In that episode she called him to tell him he was a jackass for standing her up, but it turned out he had died that day.

I expressed this concern to Jessa.

"He's probably just a jerk," She tried to cheer me up as we left that day, "Why don't we hang out? We can go get a fresh tattoo, and then I'll buy you ice cream or something."

"I cant," I sighed, shrugging, "Mandatory therapy session tonight."

She smirked, "Well have fun with that."

"Should be a blast."

Even if I hadn't have had a therapy session, I have no idea where Jessa would have put another tattoo. She was pretty covered in them already, but then, Jessa was a total bad ass, so they suited her. She was the one who took me to get all of my tattoos. We were ink buddies.

At Dr. Adams office, I walked in smiling, "Hey Ellen, What's shakin'?"

She glared at me from her beige dress suit, and I pulled up a chair in the waiting area. I had formed a habit of giving her a bit of a hard time, but I suspected she secretly liked it.

Alright, she hated me, but I had fun. I was secretly enjoying my time with Dr. Adams, too.

"Good session today Mary, a real breakthrough," Dr. Adams was saying to the same woman who always went before me. She was still wiping the snot and tears off of her face as she made her next appointment.

"Love, come on in, dear," Dr. Adams smiled. I walked passed him into the office and plopped down in my spot on the couch.

"I'm concerned about Mary," I said to him seriously, "It can't be safe for her to drive home in that condition."

"I'm sure Mary will be fine." He said and sat down in his chair, "How 'bout you Love? How are you doing this week?"

"I'm fine."

"And things at home are...?"

"Great. Diana is in Los Angeles recovering from her latest surgery. Just some more lipo and a brow lift. You know, no biggie," I giggled sarcastically, "But my dad went with her so that gives me at least 12 to 14 more days of peace and quiet."

He sighed shaking his head at the mention of surgery, "Did you get a chance to talk to her about how you feel?"

"Not exactly," I mumbled, then asked, "Dr. Adams, could we have just one session where we didn't talk about her?"

"Why don't we talk about your social life?" He suggested, "We haven't really discussed much outside of family."

"Sure," I laughed, "But what will we talk about for the other 43 minutes?"

"Not much activity on that side of things?"

I shook my head, "I'm not a really social person. And I'm kind of hopeless when it comes to guys, so...I don't really date at all."

"Well, I find it hard to believe that you're...hopeless, as you say? Maybe its just that you aren't ready to date yet," He tried, but I was feeling a little awkward talking about guys with a 50 year old man, and he quickly continued with a chuckle, "And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. I know 30 year old women that probably shouldn't be dating."

I smiled, "I think I'm okay with dating. I just haven't met anyone I would be interested in. Or who is interested in me. The guys in high school were, well, in high school. The guys I meet at parties or shows are usually drinking and I'm not really into that, and the guys I meet at work...well, I'm only 18, Dr. Adams. I think its too soon to worry. Right now I just want to save up some money and then go to a school, far far away."

We talked more that session about my future and where I saw myself going in life. At then end, he assigned me some homework.

"I want you to have a conversation."

"That's it?" I looked at him.

"With someone of the opposite sex. And someone you wouldn't normally talk to." He explained, "It doesn't have to be for longer than 5 minutes."

"Just talk to them for 5 minutes and that's going to help me somehow?" I raised my eyebrows.

"In the long run." He laughed standing up and putting his arm around me. We walked towards the door, me with my skateboard and guitar, and he added, "Try and look at the big picture here, Love. I want to hear about it next week. Same time?"

"It's a date." I laughed, "And next week, we'll talk more about you."

He was chuckling and I was on my way over to Ellen when the guy standing up from his seat in the waiting room caught my eye.

"Love?"

I looked over and Pete and those stupid gorgeous brown eyes were looking back. My only consolation in that moment was seeing the fear creep over him, as I frowned in his direction. I guess he hadn't died tragically, hours before we were supposed to hang out, and he really was just a jerk.

"Same time next week Ellen," I managed and walked out of the office.