The Memoirs

They still weren't letting her off the ward, yet.

Probably had something to do with the fact that she wasn't talking to anyone. Not that they didn't try; the doctors, the nurses, Pete, Clark and Lex made infrequent visits, Chloe was spending more time there than was probably healthy, and even Whitney hung out when he could. She didn't blame her brother or Lionel for not visiting, because after all, Morgan was in the hospital himself and Lionel was staying with him.

The fact that everyone else had a life but her was not lost on her, and she looked silently out the window of the consultation room.

At least they'd let her have her belt back to hold up her shorts, though she figured that had more to do with Lex's influence and less to do with the doctors' confidence in her state of mind. If they were that confident? She wouldn't exactly be here, still in the psych ward pending psychological evaluation.

Yeah, well. Evaluate away.

Elaine stood quietly in the doorway, watching the little girl staring out the window. Her chart noted she'd been doing that a lot, and avoiding looking at people when she was talking to them. Defense mechanism, they thought, but Elaine had enough experience to know that it wasn't. It was a weak attempt at self-protection--if she didn't see how people reacted to her or didn't see when she upset them, then she didn't have to react to it.

She'd had patients like that before, actually, and just nodded, making a little note to ask her about that.

She observed the boyfriend, too, sitting in the chair beside her, and shook her head. He was to be commended for showing up and being supportive. And being in a relationship was a good thing for her, but the body language was saying that this relationship was a little less than perfectly happy.

Pete didn't say much of anything. He'd been with Shay as much as he could get away from the light summer job he had working at Whitney's store--even if Shay didn't talk to him much at all, no matter how much he tried. But he was here, because he loved her, so he just stared at his hands until he heard the door open behind him. The woman was very pretty, lots of brown hair and a trim physique, and looked… well... doctorish.

Elaine smiled as she came in. "Ms. Senatori?"

Shay nodded. Didn't say anything else, just... nodded.

Elaine just made a little notation. "I'm Dr. Nacheyez, but you can call me Dr. Natch, Doc, or Elaine."

"I know who you are. Lex said Lionel said that he was going to have you talk to me," was the first thing she said. "You've talked to me. Go away."

"I'm sorry, I can't do that," she said sympathetically, and held out her hand to Pete. "You must be Mr. Ross."

Pete just winced, silently, as he grasped Elaine's hand and shook it. "Hi, Dr. Nacheyez. It's nice to finally meet you, Lex and Clark have told me a lot about you," Pete said, and then sideglanced his girlfriend with a small sigh as he waited for her to sit, before taking his own seat again.

"Why don't you call me Elaine? Eddie and I suffer around with the same thing; nobody pronounces the last name right, and I hate to torture people with it--unless, like Mr. Luthor, they deserve it. So, first names all around then?"

"Whatever." Shay shrugged, then shifted as Elaine sat down, moving her head and shoulders so she could still see out the window.

"All right. As part of your evaluation today, I'm going to be taping our session, so I can make notes and refer back to it later this afternoon when I write up my recommendation and present it next week."

Yeah. Next week. Shay already knew she wasn't going to get out of this place after the session. "Yeah. Fine. Tape it. Got nothing to hide."

"Sure, that's fine. I'm Pete," Pete said, quietly, as he looked over at Shay looking out the window, then sighed a little, silently, as he nodded to the woman. "That's cool. I'm game if Shay is."

Elaine nodded. "I'm Elaine." She looked over at Shay. "Well, since Shayla seems to be a little busy, let's you and I talk for just a few minutes, how would that be?"

"Sure, that's cool," Pete said, very quietly, as he bit on his lower lip for a moment, before rubbing damp palms on his jeans. "I've never actually done one of these… therapy things, so… you'll kinda have to show me what to do." Another little glance at Shay.

"There's not really that much to do, except talking," Elaine said carefully. "I'll talk to you, and get a feel for what kind of vibes Shayla's sending out to her friends, get your perspective on things--an outsider's viewpoint, if you will--so that when I hear what Shayla has to say, I can build a fuller, better picture, and see what's going on outside of her sphere of recognizance that's causing... well, whatever feelings they're causing to bring us here," she ended. "I don't often work with young people--my average client is thirty-give and over, so if I occasionally get patronizing, please feel free to call me on it, because I don't mean to."

"Nah, it's okay. Lex Luthor's my friend--believe me, patronizing is not something I get angry over," Pete said, lightly, giving her a nervous smile even as he looked over at Shay and reached over to gently squeeze her hand, before letting go. "Shay would agree with me."

Then let her agree, Elaine thought quietly, but didn't say anything, just made a notation as the tape started rolling. "So, you think she'd agree with you?" she asked innocently.

"Erm… about Lex? Well, yeah. Though she likes him, no idea why."

"Because he's honest," she piped up. "He doesn't pretend to be anything, and he doesn't expect anyone else to either. He knows I'm a bonehead and he doesn't mind, so I don't mind the occasional bouts of egomania and the fact that he wants to kill me for spying on him and Clark making out in the library."

"Yes, I've heard they do tend to be affectionate with each other all over the house," Elaine said dryly.

Pete made a face, distinctly remembering finding the both of them naked on the ceiling with come all over the place. Eeew. He'd thrown those shoes out almost immediately. Gag. He made a face again, wrinkling his nose at the thought, and cleared his throat lightly.

When Shayla didn't volunteer anything else, she sighed softly and turned her attention back to Pete. "Well, I take it from the face that you don't like Lex very much, but that's not the reason why we're here. Tell me, Pete, how are things between you and Shayla lately?"

"Okay," Pete said, glancing at her. "She's been really down, cause of Mr. Senatori. I try to be there for her as much as I can, even if that doesn't always work cause we're both running and doing other stuff. But...I hope I'm a good boyfriend."

"I'm sure you are, Pete," Elaine said with a kind smile. "I've been working with Dominic too... he's been down, too. I'm glad to see that you seem to be relating to each other." She nodded. "How's your friendship doing?"

"With Shay?"

Elaine nodded. "Yes, with Shay."

"Okay, I guess. I mean, we've been stressed, with Mr. Senatori's accident, and how he almost died and all. I hope we've been okay... I think we have. Though I didn't notice, I guess, cause I'm a dude and kind of an idiot, that she was really depressed. She broke down with me about... two weeks ago, really cried a lot." He glanced at Shay in apology for saying so, and swallowed.

Elaine took notice, and also noticed that Shayla didn't react, just flinched a little bit. Elaine felt sorry for them both. "What did she cry over, Pete?"

"Oh.." And now, Pete felt a blush rise up on his cheeks he was sure was visible. "Well...because..."

Elaine smiled at the blush. "Yes?"

"Sex," Shay said bluntly. "As in we hadn't had it in ages."

Pete started as Shay spoke, quite frankly, from beside him, and swallowed. "Yeah. The sex."

"She's going to find it all out anyway, might as well tell her than beat around the bush." Shay's voice was calm as she looked out the window.

Elaine scribbled on her pad, and looked over at Shayla's back, angling her head so that she could take a look at Shay's face, which was surprisingly blank. "You know, Shayla, I'm only here to help. I'm not going to push you for details that you don't want to give."

Pete frowned at his girlfriend's back, but didn't say anything, as he spoke up. "She wanted to have sex, and I told her we should wait until she's better, so I know for a fact I won't be taking advantage of her. She wasn't well--I didn't want to screw everything up again because she was randy."

"So, you decided for both of you?" Elaine asked quietly.

"I--" Fuck. "I just thought it was for the best," Pete said, quietly.

"Because you care deeply about her, and want to take care of her?" Elaine asked.

"Well, yeah." He shrugged a shoulder again, thoroughly embarrassed.

"No, now, don't be embarrassed," Elaine said with a smile. "These are the things I need to know. Are there any other situations that you can think of where this might have occurred?"

"Where what? Her crying?" Pete asked, eyebrow raised. if that was the case, he hoped Elaine had all night, cause Shay cried at the drop of a hat.

"No, I mean situations where one of you made a decision for the both of you," she asked gently. "Crying is optional."

"Uh... I don't think so. Usually we both do, cause Shay's way smarter then me and usually has good suggestions. We make decisions together, usually."

"Well, that's definitely good. Making decisions together is a good thing, and something that you need to continue doing. But? Don't either of you fall into the fallacy of one being smarter than the other. Each of you has your own strengths, and your own needs, and hopefully, you complement each other."

"Then I need to change gender," she said quietly.

Elaine looked interestedly at the young girl. "Would you like to explain that?"

Where before Pete had been blushing, how he all but felt the blood draining out of his face. He cleared his throat a little and looked down at his lap, silently, for a long moment. "Um… I'm bisexual."

"Bisexual?" Elaine asked.

"Yeah. I… had a boyfriend, before... Shay," Pete said, still staring at his hands.

"And how is that impacting your current relationship?" Elaine asked.

Pete shifted again. "I think… it's okay." He glanced at Shay. "Most of the time."

"You really think, or you think because you don't want to upset someone?"

"He doesn't want to upset me," Shay busted in. "I know I don't always do it for him."

"Shay, its not that at all," Pete stammered, looking up at her in horror. "I love you very much. How could you say that?"

She shrugged. "Because it's true. If it weren't, I wouldn't be strapping things onto my body that I wasn't born with," she pointed out. "I shouldn't complain, because I do like it; I like knowing I can get him off like he does me. It's just..." She shrugged again.

"Just what?"

Shay stopped talking, and went back to the window.

"I'm sorry," Pete said, very quietly. "I didn't know it made you this uncomfortable." The blood that had drained out was once again flushing in his cheeks. He didn't really know what else to say, just feeling unspeakably horrified that they were sharing their personal business with this woman. "Why… didn't you ever tell me?"

"I didn't want to lose you. And I knew if I couldn't pony it up, I would. Cause I know you love me, but you need this too, to be happy. And I'm just selfish enough to want to keep you for myself."

"I don't want to leave," Pete said, even more quietly. "Do you want me to?"

Elaine butted in. "I don't think that's something we need to be discussing right now," she said firmly. "That's just going to add a lot of complications and a lot of pressure that neither of you need at this particular time. I think our first aim is to make sure that Shayla has everything she needs to get better."

Shay didn't turn around. "No, I don't want you to leave. But I know that eventually you're going to. If you are, I'd rather it be now, when I've got a licensed professional to help put me back together."

Pete didn't say anything, silent as he looked down at his lap, then finally, after he was sure he had himself together enough, looked up at Elaine. "I agree, Ms. Nacheyez. I noticed she started losing weight about a month ago, but I thought she was just on one of her hundred different diets she's always trying out. I don't know why she wants to lose weight at all, but she does. I didn't realize she was getting sick... it was gradual."

"I wasn't trying to lose weight. I was trying to stay at the weight I was at."

"Which was?" Elaine prompted gently.

"109 or 110, which, before you get your panties twisted, is normal for me. I checked. And I was trying to find a diet and exercise thingie that would keep me within five pounds of that, because I don't want to blimp up into a zeppelin or down to a twig like Meggie."

"You know, for someone with a supermodel in the family, you've got a surprisingly healthy body image, from what I can tell," Elaine finally said, after a moment of silence. "Not at all the type of person I'd have picked to have this problem. Shayla... do you know what your current weight is?" When the girl shrugged, she went ahead and answered anyway. "You weigh all of 89 pounds. Which isn't healthy for you."

Pete sideglanced her, seeing the bony shift of her body under the shirt and shorts, the jut of her hips and the sharp sleeves of her shoulder blades, and he felt like utter and complete *shit*. "God, Shay."

Shay shrugged off his words with a little rise and fall of her shoulder.

"It says here you've been eating like a horse, and then after your friends leave, you've been getting sick--not making yourself sick. Want to tell me about that?"

"They're upset. It upsets me. I get upset, my stomach gets upset. End of story."

Talking to this girl made Lionel downright tolerable and easy to get information out of, and Elaine rubbed her nose under her glasses. "I highly doubt that, Shayla."

Pete felt... really in the way. Really, really in the way. He shifted on the couch, looking at his hands absently as they spoke around him, and looked up from time to time, listening to them both speak--Shayla's bored words, Elaine's little comments. He didn't know how much to betray of his girlfriend, how much to give away.

Elaine was busy cataloging every fidget, watching him out of the corner of her eyes as she tried to engage Shayla into more than two words of conversation. "Mr. Ross, you've been awfully quiet. What's currently weighing your shoulders down?"

"Nothing. I hope she gets better. I'm worried about her," Pete answered. "She threw up a lot." How else to explain it? No other way. So he just willed this over fast.

"Mr. Ross, to speak frankly, I call your bullshit. You've been fidgeting almost nonstop for the last five minutes, you've yet to establish eye contact with me since I sat down behind the desk, and you look at Shayla before everything you say like you're asking permission to say it. Well, permission has been given."

There was a bare trace of laughter in Shayla's voice when she spoke. "Big Daddy must hate you."

"Clark told me Dominic told him Lionel hates her guts," Pete said to Shay, rather then Dr. Nacheyez. "Said he calls her every name in the book, threatens her life, you name it."

"Then he likes her. He likes me too, which is why I see that annoying little twit of a sister of yours, Dominic as an endearment rather than an insult. And answer her, Pete."

"At least Dominic doesn't call you a twit. Just a skittle," Pete offered, before looking across the desk at the woman. "I don't like therapists. Sorry. Nothing to do with you."

"No offense taken," Elaine said with a cheerful smile. "We tend to get a bad rap because we call people when they're bullshitting themselves or are in denial about something, and the stripping away of those illusions can sometimes be painful. But, in the end, we help. And that's all that matters. By the way, you could give Dominic evasion lessons. He's good, but nowhere near as good as you are."

"Thanks, I think," Pete answered, uncomfortably, as he fidgeted again. "Stripping is bad. Usually," he muttered, half under his breath, but then raised his voice again as he looked up. "Is Shay going to be okay?"

"I certainly hope so; it's going to take time, and a lot of work, and a lot of it is going to depend on her and if she wants to admit she's got a problem and deal with it. But, assuming that she does, then yes, she'll be okay."

Pete looked at Shay. "Admit you have a problem, Shay."

"Okay. I have a problem." She paused. "There."

He almost beamed, before he realized she was being sarcastic. "Hey. Seriously. Admit you've got one... like you admitted to me you were scared, before the dance competition." He reached for her hand, taking it gently in his. "Kay?"

"Pete... carefully," Elaine said softly. "We don't want her feeling pressured at this point. That could do more harm than good. Realizing that she has a problem and admitting it is probably the hardest step that she's going to have to take."

"I'm right here, you know."

"Then stop acting like a spoiled brat," Elaine said baldly. "You don't want to be here. You're sulking. I get that. You want out? You work with me. That simple."

Pete almost looked scared, but then calmed when Elaine spoke, and gently squeezed Shay's hand. "Okay, then. Well… we were in a dance competition recently. We won second place in state, after I taught Shay how to dance like, a month before. She's strong like bull, i know she can do it."

Elaine reached over the desk and patted Pete's hand gently. "I counsel her brother. I know she can do it too, and so does she, if she'd stop being scared and sulking."

At the "being scared" part, Pete almost physically flinched, and waited for the explosion he knew was coming from that one. "Yeah… I agree."

There wasn't one. "I'm not scared."

"You're a little scared, Shay, I can tell. But it's okay to be scared, you know. I'll love you regardless."

"Oh, yes, I'm scared. Just terrified. Please, Pete, hold me. Protect me from the big scary things."

He frowned, and took back his hand from where hers was limply in his. "I'll protect you no matter what."

"I don't need protecting. I don't need coddling. I don't need psychoanalyzing, and I don't need to be fed with a tube in my arm. I need to be let out of this place so I can go home."

Every single word was like a slap to the face, but he didn't flinch. Wouldn't. "They're not gonna let you go until you're well."

"Even my boyfriend thinks I'm fucked in the head. Thanks for the support, Pete." She still hadn't turned around or moved, even.

"I don't think you're fucked in the head!" Pete suddenly cried. "I wish you'd stop this and let us help you, because something is obviously wrong! People don't throw up just for the hell of it, Shayla!"

"boom," Elaine muttered under her breath, not refereeing for the moment because she wanted to see Shayla's reaction to the accusation.

"Stop what, Pete?" Shay asked with a shrug. "I told you. I'm not sick, I'm not fucked in the head, and I don't belong here."

"You're not fucked in the head, but are you going to sit here and tell me that puking up every time you eat is normal?" Pete demanded, the rough line of his eyebrows tense. "You can't deal with Dominic right now, you can't deal with your life, you've been running away for ages, and you're looking for an outlet. I get that."

"Can't deal with Morgan? Which part? The part where he chews me out if I even breathe in his direction? The part where he won't even try anymore? The part where the thing that's sitting trapped and strapped in that fucking wheelchair isn't my brother anymore, but some… creature that's hijacked his body? Which part can't I deal with, huh? You're the fucking expert on me all of a sudden, you tell me!" she exploded, then turned back to the window.

In the silence that followed, Elaine gave a little cough. "I'd say that was a breakthrough."

"Fuck you too, doc."

"Knew it was Dominic," Pete muttered to Elaine, then looked at the back of Shayla's pretty blond head. "He's gonna be okay, you know. Even if he doesn't try, he's still your brother and he still loves you."

"I'm sure Dominic's only one of the factors," Elaine reminded softly, then paused. "You... have you talked to Lionel or Clark or Lex in the last couple days?"

"Briefly. They stopped by for like, half an hour, but Lex was having some kind of panic attack in the hall and they left. Clark brought me a phone and a computer and my CDs and stuff, but I haven't talked to him since."

"Let me call Lionel tonight, and have him come by and see you. I think it's important you hear about your brother from him."

"That he's having more surgery? This I know. He doesn't care, and why should I?"

Pete frowned, tightly. "Where did you get this he doesn't care business from, Shay?" he asked, looking across at her again.

"Gee. It could be from the fact that he was fighting physical therapy every step of the way. Oh, or, maybe it was the fact that he screamed at everyone to leave him the fuck alone every second he was in the house. Wait, no, I think it was the fact that when asked, don't you want to get better, his answer was, I don't give a fuck. I'm sure it was somewhere in there I got the idea." She kept staring out the window. "I mean, I can't imagine where."

Pete's hands tightened into fists on the arm chair. "So you're going to let yourself fall apart because of him. Is that it? You're going to let yourself get sick, and probably die of malnutrition, or god knows what else, right? You'd rather wear holes in your throat and your teeth."

"Nobody is going to die here," Elaine interjected. "Not on my watch."

"You want more reasons why? Okay. Let's start with Mama. Who doesn't like my boyfriend, who was going to force me back home with her, and by home I mean Cobh, Ireland, until Morgan worked out the paperwork to be my legal guardian so she couldn't. Let's move on to Mama again, who never liked my boyfriend in the first place, and never let me forget it. And, while we're still on the subject of Mama? Let's not forget how she like, tried to kill my brother. Then, I think we've sufficiently covered Morgan. Then let's go to Riley and the rest, who are more than willing to wash their hands of Mama and get her out of their hair. Oh, did I mention I'm starting as a senior in high school in a week, when all the *rest* of this crap is going on?"

"Shay. No one is telling you that your problems are less then problems. No one's telling you that you don't have a fucked up life--let's face it, you do. Your mom sucks, your brothers sick, I'm black and bisexual, and you're best friends with Sugar Cube and her boyfriend Mr. Ed. Okay? Our other best friends are creepy in their own special way, you live in a mausoleum, and you're a senior as of a week from tomorrow. Baby, its fucked up. But that doesn't mean those of us in your fucked up life don't love you, and would rather die then see you sick like this. Chloe's making herself sick over you, Whitney can't get her to sleep, I want to tear my hair out because I can see you're not well and you won't let me be beside you, let me love you."

"Did I mention that I've suddenly become the center of everyfuckingbody's universe and didn't ask for it?"

"You're the center of my universe," Pete retorted.

"No, Pete. I'm not. I'm just too nice to say what is."

"And I think that's enough today!" Elaine busted in, before anything else could be said. "Shayla, I'll be back tomorrow to talk to you alone, all right? Mr. Ross, I'm going to ask you to stay behind for just a few minutes after we get Shayla escorted back to her room, all right?"

Pete didn't bother glaring at her. He just nodded, and stood, pulling his shirt down a little from the wrinkly bundle it had gotten in from his constant fidgeting. "That's fine."

"Thanks." Elaine pressed the little buzzer on the desk, and one of the young orderlies came to the doorway. "Could you escort Ms. Senatori back to her room, or the day room, whichever she prefers?"

"My room's fine--doesn't look like I'll be going anywhere any time soon." She got up off the little chair and followed the orderly out of the door, and left Pete and Elaine alone.

Elaine waited until the door was closed, and she gave Pete a smile. "I know that couldn't have been easy for you."

Pete watched her go without even getting a goodbye from her, and then sagged back in his seat as soon as she had left. "I'm sorry. I know I suck at helping. I won't be here for any more sessions, I promise."

"On the contrary, I'd like you to be present for several more," Elaine said. "However, in a slightly different capacity." She leaned forward. "As her friend. Not her boyfriend."

The tension slid into his face like water. "What?"

"I'm just a licensed therapist, Pete. But from what I can tell here today? There's a lot of unresolved issues here. And before the two of you can resolve them, there's a few that you need to resolve yourself. So what I want--no, let me rephrase that--what Shayla needs is for you to be here, as her friend. Who loves her without conditions--whether they're there in reality, or just in her mind. Take a step back, and figure out what you want. Because if you are going to be her boyfriend during this, it's going to require a serious commitment. Not lifelong, no, but at least for the next six to eight months. And she has to know that you're there for her, unconditionally, in whatever capacity you choose. If your boyfriend/girlfriend relationship can't be unconditional, then it needs to be friendship. But you need to decide. And then you need to let her know."

"Dr. Nacheyez, not to be rude, but how dare you," Pete said, quietly but firmly. "You've known me for exactly fifteen minutes, ma'am. You don't know anything about the things Shayla and I share, and the things we've gone through together. I don't think you have any clinical judgment to be going on about whatsoever, and you'll find I don't like being patronized, either."

"No, I don't. I just know what my patient has told me over the course of this hour," she pointed out. "And I do know she's come over your relationship with her and the basis for it quite a few times, and none of them complimentary. Her last statement leads me to believe that she believes that she comes second to your desire for the masculine side of things, to put it delicately. I can't force you to do this, and I can't do anything but tell you what, in my professional judgment, is going to help Shayla get better faster. Because, Mr. Ross, she is my patient. You aren't. She is the one I'm concerned about in this equation."

"I'm not going to just be her friend," Pete grit, hard. "I worked too hard to get our relationship back to where it is, I won't throw it away. I won't destroy it again. She loves me and I love her, and all that's going to come from this is pain," Pete said, his voice a harsh whisper. "I love her and I can't lose her. I can't."

"You may already be," Elaine said. "I don't know. But I am asking you, Mr. Ross, to look deep inside yourself, and see if you can give Shayla the unequivocal support and priority she's asking for right now. No, it may not be fair. But it's what she needs. And I will be going to all of her friends and giving them this same speech about making a serious commitment to helping her get better, and her family too, so don't feel all singled out. Because you're not. But what you are is important to her. And that makes you important to her recovery."

"You're asking me to stop being what she needs," Pete croaked, his fingers tense on his thighs, digging into the tight strength of his jeans. "You can't ask me to stop being her boyfriend. My issues don't hold a candle to hers, and I won't abandon her."

"What she needs, Mr. Ross, is a friend. And what she needs is someone she can trust, and count on to love her for who she is and not what she does, or doesn't, have between her legs," she said frankly. "And based on what she said in the session today, I'm not sure that's the case right now, for either of you."

"I don't love her just for the sex," Pete hissed, his eyes flashing as his fingers tensed again in his thighs. "It's not even about that."

"Then why is it such an issue that we spent a good portion of the session talking about it?"

"Because I cheated on her, alright?!" Pete cried, the frantic beat of his heart thudding in his eardrums. "I was dating this guy, and then the guy left and Shay and I started seeing each other, he came back all drugged out and we fucked, and I hurt her. She hated me, wouldn't talk to me for weeks, and it was the worst, most miserable, terrible time of my whole life." Oh. His eyes were burning with hot, unshed tears as he spoke through clenched teeth. "And I do like men, I do, but I don't like them more than I like her, what I find in her."

"Then why did you cheat on her in the first place?" Elaine asked softly. "I'm not here to judge you. I'm not. I just want you to get your own life in order before you start helping Shayla. Because she is going to need your full attention, and she's going to need to worry about herself, not you."

"I wasn't exactly in control of the cheating," Pete snapped. "As for worrying about herself, tell me something I don't know. I'm trying as hard as I can."

"Which is why I'm telling you to take a step back. Take it now, while there's time. Make sure this is what you want to commit to."

"I'm not abandoning her," Pete hissed. "Stop asking me to." He rose, stiffly. "I'm leaving."

"Pete... I'm not asking you to abandon her. I'm asking you to be her friend. Are you telling me that there is no friendship between the two of you? That your relationship is everything?"

"Of course there's friendship--we started out as friends, we hang out together, we do everything together, with all of our friends," Pete was shaking in anger, as he attempted to wrench the door open.

And found he couldn't.

"Unlock the door, please."

She reached under the desk and pressed the buzzer. "Then if there is a friendship there, take a step back from the physical relationship until you know what you want, for sure. Being her friend isn't abandoning her. It's loving her in the best way you can right now."

"There hasn't been a physical relationship in almost four months, doctor." Pete turned his head to look back at her. "I've been her friend through all of this." And then he turned, the door shutting with a loud clatter, and left.

"And maybe that's part of the problem," she said to an empty room, then looked down at the tape player as she turned it off. "This family's either going to turn me prematurely gray, or put my great grandkids through grad school."

 

-fin-

go on to the next part