Page 36 of The Second Kiss
“My wrist actually, paintball injury.” I shrug. I wish she would get to the point.
She raises her eyebrows, “I’ve never heard of anyone breaking their arm playing paintball before.”
“It’s kind of a long story.” I hope she isn’t going to make me tell her.
She fusses with some papers on her desk and then looks at me over the top of her glasses. “How are things going at school?”
“Fine,” I answer.
“And with your parents?”
“Good.”
“What about outside of school? What about yourrelationships?”
“Relationships?” I screw up my face in confusion. “You mean like with my friends?”
"Not exactly."
It takes me a second to figure out what she’s getting at. "You mean with guys?"
“Yes,” she almost smiles for real, like this is what she was searching for.
My hands get cold. Could someone have told her about the thing with Brad? But that was months ago, and no one at that party would know or care enough to tell what happened. Not unless it served some purpose. Lexie, out for revenge? Was that why she was in the counselor's office this morning?
My counselor keeps watching me, like she’s waiting for more.
“I don’t know what you're asking me,” I stammer.
She leans forward and touches my cast. “Maybe you could tell me about your weekend.”
“My weekend? You mean this past weekend?” I guess this isn’t about Brad.
She nods.
“I already told you. I played paintball. I had an accident and broke my wrist.”
Her face drips with sympathy, “And who did you play paintball with?”
“My friends, my brothers, and some guys from base.” What is she digging for?
She puts her hand on my arm. “Guys from base can be pretty rough.”
“I guess.”
She smiles. “But I can see where someone your age would be attracted to them.”
My face goes red. I think she takes it as a sign that she’s on the right track. “Sometimes a girl feels like they need to hold onto a boyfriend, even if that relationship isn’t good for her.”
My cheeks burn.
“If someone is hurting you, Jessica, I want to help.”
“What?” Everything comes into focus. I remember the fat lip I came to school with, maybe even the bruises from getting my wisdom teeth out. I realize how it all must look to her, especially with my broken wrist.
She sighs, “Let me be frank. I received an anonymous report that you might be in an abusive relationship. Specifically with an older guy, someone from base.”
I stare at her, dumbfounded.
