Page 75 of Wicked Games

“So… he made it up?” I asked, frowning. “Or was he just really bad at his job?”

“He made it up.”

That was a little hard to believe. I sighed and rubbed my forehead. “Why would a psychologist fabricate a diagnosis about a student?”

“Well, I started seeing him after Julian died,” Maverick said. “I was totally fucked up over it, which you already know about.”

“Yeah, it says you were referred for grief counselling.”

“That’s right. I was falling behind in my classes because I couldn’t concentrate, so my teachers recommended it. I went in for a few sessions, and it actually helped a little bit. Dr. Barry was pretty good at his job.”

“So what happened to make him accuse you of the personality disorder?”

Maverick let out a heavy sigh. “I was in his office for a session one day, and he was called out of the room by the receptionist. Some sort of issue with the patient record system on her computer, from what I remember,” he said. “Dr. Barry excused himself and said he’d be back in a couple of minutes. I decided to check a baseball score while I waited, but that part of campus is a total dead zone for my phone network. Anyway, I know this was a dumb thing to do, but it was just a game score, so I thought, fuck it, I’ll just quickly look it up on Dr. Barry’s computer. It was sitting right there on his desk, and I was pretty sure he hadn’t locked it when he left the room.”

“Did you find something on it?” I asked, eyes widening. That certainly seemed to be where this story was going.

“Yeah. Something fucked up.”

“What was it?” I asked, stomach churning with anticipation.

“When I opened up a browser, I saw that he had other tabs open already. Most of them were just normal things that I wouldn’t think twice about, but one had a weird name. I was curious, so I clicked on it, and… uhh…well, I don’t want to go into too much detail, but it made it very clear that Dr. Barry was into young girls. Not babies and very young children, but still… young. Like thirteen or fourteen, maybe.”

“Oh my god.” My stomach lurched. “That’s disgusting.”

“No shit,” Maverick replied. “All I could think about when I found it was how many young girls he was counselling every day at school. It made me feel fucking sick.”

I frowned. “So… he had that sort of stuff on his computer and left it unlocked around people? That seems stupid.”

“Yeah. Really stupid, huh? But I think he figured he’d only be out of the room for a minute. I think he also figured I wasn’t a rude asshole who’d jump straight on his computer. But I guess I am a rude asshole, and honestly, I’m fucking glad I am, because as soon as I saw that shit on his screen, I knew I had to get him off campus. I mean, like I said a second ago, this guy was working with young girls every day. I figured he could’ve been fantasizing about them, which is bad enough, or maybe even grooming some of them.”

“That’s really sick.”

“Yeah, it is. So, I stormed out of the office and told everyone in the waiting room to stop wasting their time and get the fuck out. Then I told Dr. Barry I was reporting him to the principal and cops. That turned out to be a mistake.”

“Telling him, you mean?”

“Yeah. He immediately panicked and went into self-preservation mode. He wiped everything incriminating off his computer and browser history, and then he made up a bunch of fake session notes claiming that I said and did stuff that never happened. He backdated them to make it seem like he’d written them in previous weeks, and he also called a work associate that day after hours, knowing she wouldn’t be available, just so he could leave a voicemail that implied there was something seriously wrong with me. That way, when the cops finally started to investigate the case, they could interview that associate and get her to show them this voicemail that was supposedly about me.”

“Was that Dr. Prentiss?”

“Yup. Anyway, Dr. Barry was trying to cover his tracks by making me seem like someone who’d make up shit just to hurt people, including him,” Maverick went on. “But it didn’t work. Adigital forensics team went through his stuff and realized I was telling the truth. Turns out you can’t really wipe a computer, even if you try really hard.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that.”

“They were also able to check the creation dates and times on his session notes, and every single one about me was created the day I stormed out of his office. They also found hisrealsession notes about me, which he’d tried to delete.”

“And they were about your brother?”

“Yup. Anyone who read them could see I was just a grieving guy. Not a psychopath.”

“So what happened to Dr. Barry?” I asked.

“He’s in prison. Turns out hewasgrooming a couple of girls on campus. His patients, who he was supposed to be helping. They admitted it to the police when they interviewed everyone he was treating.”

“God.” My stomach was still churning, and a sickly taste had filled my mouth. “That’s horrible. Those poor girls.”

“Yeah, it was fucked up. But he’s gone now.” Maverick fell silent for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and spoke up again. “Carey… do you believe me? Because I can’t prove any of this to you until we get the hell out of this place. Until then, it’s just my word against the so-called evidence that the Game Master sent you.”

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