Page 5 of Ruling Scar
As weird, but fun as this has been, I’m ready to go home and introvert.
“This one’s on us,” he says, picking up my empty dish.
“No,” I say quickly. “Thank you, but I’ll pay.”
Abe stares at me, his dark eyes unreadable. I think he might take my offer but the woman behind the hostess desk, who I’m starting to suspect is his mother, says something in Japanese.
He shakes his head. “Nah, not this time. Thanks for coming by, though.”
“How did book club go?” Janis, my therapist, asks a day later.
I ball up the ends of my sweater sleeves. “Yeah, it was good. . . it was, yeah.”
She does that annoying thing, where she just stares at me.
“I didn’t go.” It’s the first homework assignment she’s given me that I’ve failed.
And worse, she doesn’t appear mad. She leans her head to the side, blinking in wonder. “What happened?”
I explain everything. How I had an upset stomach all day just at the thought of going, but how I forced myself to go anyway. How fear paralyzed me and I couldn’t force myself inside.
“I ended up at this little restaurant around the corner.” I play with a loose thread on my sweater. “Got dinner by myself.”
“That’s very brave in some ways.”
Is it? Only losers eat alone.
“It wasn’t what you were hoping,” she admits, “but you still pushed yourself outside your comfort zone. What happened while you were there?”
I shrug.
“Did you eat and leave?”
“Yeah, I mean everyone was friendly at least.”
“Friendly?” Her eyes narrow as she latches onto the word.
Crap. I swear Janis reads into things that aren’t there.
“Well, just the people there.”
“People?”
“Other customers.”
Going to therapy is interesting. I know you’re not supposed to lie to your therapist but explaining about my family’s lifestyle is off limits. As far as Janis knows, Fujimori’s is just another Japanese restaurant.
“Huh.”
I bite my lip at the way she’s acting.
“So, you talked to a few people?”
I squirm in my seat, messing with my balled-up sleeves. “Not really.”
A wolfish smile grows on her face. Double crap. “Go back.”
“What?”
