Page 8 of Shadow and Skulls

Me: I do see a therapist.

Jason and Matt both let out a harsh laugh behind me.

Jason: I think you better look for a new one, because it’s not working.

The twinge in my chest makes me slam my computer shut and jump from my seat. When I break free from the walls of the school, I suck in a deep breath. I glance around the parking lot, blinking back tears. Fuck, my dad has my car today. He’s getting the oil changed.

I slip back into the building and hide in the library until the final bell rings for the day. I hurry down to Charlotte’s room, but I’m too late. Lexi and her group of friends already have her cornered.

“Doesn’t she remind you of Wednesday Addams?” Lexi laughs.

I push past the group, grabbing Charlotte’s hand and pulling her away. “Don’t listen to them,” I say quietly, squeezing her fingers tightly in mine.

She keeps her emotions carefully in check until we step outside. The second she spots Kat waiting for her across the street, she tugs away from me.

“Mommy!” she cries out.

Charlotte begins to explain to Kat why she’s upset. Spotting my mom’s car, I rush around her vehicle, sliding into the passenger seat of her Beetle.

“I can’t believe how mean little girls can be,” my mom says when she finally joins me, firing up the engine.

She thinks Charlotte is getting picked on by her own peers, not mine. Why wouldn’t she? I decide not to correct her. “Is Dad finished with my car?”

The hurt in her eyes has me apologizing. “It’s not that I don’t like riding with you. I … I just really wanted to go see Billie Rose today. I need to get some baby snuggles in.”

Her shoulders drop, relieved that I still enjoy her company. “Yeah, I think it’s done. But we’ll run over to his shop and check.”

Nodding, I watch the reflection of her vehicle as we pass by the store fronts of downtown. I love it here. It reminds me of my hometown’s main street. I grew up in the Midwest, and my mother had an aversion toward big box stores, so we did most of our shopping locally.

“So, how did your talk with Jason go?”

“Good,” I say, keeping my answer short.

On the way to school this morning, I assured her I would have a talk with him and set some boundaries. I was determined to let him know I wasn’t going to let him guilt trip me into sleeping with him again.

Her gaze darts between me and the road. “I’m glad it went well.” The wrinkles around her eyes tighten as she forces a smile on her face. I know she wants more.

I sigh, laying my head against the seat. “He thinks I need to go to therapy.” A chuckle unexpectedly bursts from my mouth, surprising even me. Covering my face, I glance away from her. “I’m sorry. It’s just funny.”

“Why is it funny?”

“I’ve been going to therapy every week for the entire year we’ve been dating, and he didn’t even know.”

She pats my hand. “You’re not obligated to share every part of your life with someone just because you’ve been dating.”

She’s absolutely right of course, but the thing is I did share that part of my life with him. I’ve mentioned my therapist several times over the past year. Sure, I never shared the details of why I went, but I did tell him I was in therapy.

“I know.”

I breathe a sigh of relief when we pull up outside my dad’s shop. Honestly, I don’t know why I’ve been keeping things from my family. I’ve been hand selecting which parts of my life to share with them. My gaze lands on my car. It doesn’t look like it’s moved since I dropped it off this morning.

“I’m going to run over and ask JD something,” my mom says. “I’ll be quick. Ask Dad what’s up with your car, and if it’s not done, I’ll run you out to see Billie Rose.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I tell her, walking backward up the steps of Dad’s shop.

“It’s okay. I have to go to the warehouse anyway. I want to check in with Jesse and see if she needs any help. Some of the members from the NorCal Chapter have been staying there.” She gives me a little wave, turning to jog across the street.

My dad is focused on his client when I step inside. He glances at me, nodding toward the big man in his chair. “Tank, this is my daughter Kelsie.”

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