Song: Bury Me Face Down by grandson

"He has this face that makes me want to punch him repeatedly, but if someone else punched him, I'd be mad because nobody punches him but me... you feel?"

Zoey nods slowly, jotting down something in her notes.

"Is this your way of telling me you enjoy his friendship? Because if it is... we may need to go over the definition of friends again."

I drag my hands down my face in irritation. "You know I have a hard time with the whole 'friends' thing." I use fingers to air quote "friends."

She sighs before smiling. "I know. I do think it's wonderful that you have a friend now! He's getting you out of your shell... which is good!"

"No it's not," I deadpan. "My shell is there to protect me."

"You're not a turtle, Noa." She smirks, raising her eyebrows as she does so.

"I like to think of myself as more of a crab." I cross my arms, leaning back in the chair. It's tempting to put my feet up on her desk so I can fully recline back.

"I won't argue with you on that."

The little timer on her phone rings, indicating our session is done. I've grown to somewhat enjoy her company, but I still hate having to go to therapy week after week.

"Well, looks like our time is done for today! I'll be seeing you next week!" I stand up from my seat, and as I begin to walk out of her office, she adds, "I want to see pics of you and Rhett at homecoming!"

Why the hell did I tell her about that again?

"Yeah sure whatever. See you next week." I shut her door and begin my descent down the stairs.

As I'm making my way down, I hear someone crying. It's a more masculine wailing and sounds oddly familiar.

I peek over the railing down to the other flight of stairs, and I see a figure with his hood up and head in his hands. Tears drop down onto the steps beneath his feet.

I hesitate as to whether or not I should go down there and console them, but then I remember I don't like being consoled much when I'm crying so they might not.

"Fuck it," I whisper to myself as I descend down the other flight of stairs to meet up with the crying boy. His head turns up to me, and he almost immediately stops crying.

"Noa...I-I-"

"Either you're stalking me or you go to therapy. I'm hoping you go to therapy. Stalking is a bit weird... even for you." His face relaxes, and I can't help but to wonder why. Is he embarrassed that he goes to therapy?

"I wasn't expecting you to see me here...ever." He drops his head, his cheeks already turning pink. He is embarrassed.

"You do know I go to therapy too. Why should it be embarrassing for you? A lot of people go to therapy at some point in their lives." He turned his face towards me again, a hesitant smile forming on his lips.

"People would look at me like I'm weak..." His voice drifts off, and his comment upsets me.

"Do you think I am weak?"

Almost instantaneously, he shakes his head 'no.' "N-no. You're probably one of the strongest people I know."

I feel almost flattered by his response. "Good. I don't think you're weak either. Quite the opposite, especially with the asshole you have to deal with every day." I, thankfully, didn't have to deal with my father everyday. But, I had to live with the memories of what he did constantly.

"Now, tell me why I found you sobbing down here? Did your session not go good?"

He shakes his head, burying his head. "I was telling my therapist about my brother moving and how I felt. He asked me why I felt this way, why I felt scared for Ripley, and I started to tell him of my father but stopped myself. I'm more scared of my dad finding out I told about the things he's done. I left early and came here to-"

"Cry?" I rub his upper back sympathetically, "yeah, I see that."

After a considerable amount of awkward silence except for the occasional sniffling from Rhett, we get up, staring at each other. It's weird.

"Thank you. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you." He doesn't make eye contact with me, but I can tell he's being sincere. It's weird to hear those words coming from someone other than my mother and sister. It's honestly a miracle I even have a friend.

"It's whatever." I shrug my shoulders. I don't know what else to say. I suck at things like this.

He slowly pulls my into a hug. A hug that I'm growing to like—ew—more and more.

As we pull away, I finally see a glimmer of true happiness from him.

It's like the sun finally found its way through the universe.

And I'm finally loving the rays.

**unedited**