Chapter 2: Therapy

Vanessa's POV

"Vanessa?"

Dr. Rose's voice reached me from across the room.

I rubbed my damp palms against my jeans.

"You stopped when everyone received the video," she said. "You said you didn't get it yourself."

"No. Lillian showed me."

"And then what happened?"

The memory came back in pieces I didn't want. Faces illuminated by phone screens. Laughter from somewhere behind me. Someone saying my name as though I were a joke everyone had already heard.

"They laughed; people pointed at me. Some were even forwarding it while I was still sitting there."

"Do you want to stop for a minute?"

"I want to go home."

"That's not the question."

"Can I?"

"Vanessa, this is a two-hour session. We've only been here for an hour."

"I'm tired of this. I don't need therapy. Therapy isn't helping."

My voice rose loudly. Sweat gathered in my palms, and my breathing became shallow.

Dr. Rose didn't react to my tone. "You experienced something traumatic. Recovery doesn't happen because a month has passed."

"It happened a month ago. I'm fine."

"No, you're functioning. There is a difference."

I looked away.

"Your parents are worried because you're barely eating, you hardly leave your room, and you've stopped talking to people you used to trust."

"You're here to help with that? How? Are you going to miraculously make me lose weight? Stop people from bullying me?"

"I've known your family for almost ten years, Vanessa. You were never a girl who apologized for taking up space."

"Then I started high school and learned what happens when you're overweight in a place where everybody thinks looking perfect is a personality."

I pressed my lips together. "I just want to go home."

"You've spent most of the summer at home."

"Because outside has people."

That made her smile a bit.

"Do you know what people call me now? Godzilla. They made memes from the video; they made stickers. I don't know how I'm supposed to walk back into that school."

My voice thinned. "I hate my life."

Dr. Rose leaned forward. "Your body did not cause what Nathan did. Your weight did not make him record you, and it did not make him share something private. Those were his choices."

"Everyone else seems to disagree."

"Everyone else doesn't get to decide where the blame belongs."

I stood, pulled off my hoodie, and lifted my shirt enough to expose my stomach.

"Look at me. This is what everybody sees."

Dr. Rose's expression didn't change. "Their cruelty doesn't turn their opinion into truth."

I let my shirt fall and sat again.

"Do you want to know the worst part? I'm the only one everyone is laughing at. Nathan is being praised, and guys call him a legend."

I blinked hard. "And the whole relationship was a bet. The football team wanted to see whether he could get me to fall for him. Six months. That's how long I spent believing he loved me."

"You weren't stupid for believing someone who deliberately worked to earn your trust."

"It feels stupid."

"I know."

That was easier to hear than another argument.

"Do you have a plan for Monday?" she asked.

"I begged my parents to transfer me. We can't afford it. We can't afford to move either."

My parents had tried to fight Nathan's family, but the Chases had money, lawyers, influence, and an explanation for everything.

Nathan claimed he had never intentionally distributed the recording. His phone had supposedly been compromised, and every attempt to prove otherwise became another expense my family couldn't keep paying.

"The school isn't doing enough," I continued. "Nathan will still be there."

"There's always England."

I stared at her, but said nothing.

"You could develop an accent and reinvent yourself."

I laughed softly. "That is terrible professional advice."

"I'll deny saying it."

We both laughed, and for the first time, my shoulders loosened, and I felt relaxed.

When the laughter faded, she came over and took my hands.

"Monday may be awful. I'm not going to insult you by promising it won't be. But high school ends. What Nathan did does not get to become the rest of your life."

"You're annoyingly optimistic."

"It's one of my worst qualities."

"Thank you."

A knock sounded at the door. Dr. Rose went to answer it while I collected my hoodie and bag.

I was halfway out when her next patient stepped inside.

Cole Grayson.

I stopped, and he stopped too.

For once, the permanently relaxed expression I knew from Spanish class wasn't there.

Neither of us spoke as I walked past him.

Who knew cool people needed therapy?

********

That night, sleep refused to cooperate.

School was only a few days away, and every time I closed my eyes, I imagined walking through those doors while everyone whispered.

Nothing was going to happen to Nathan. He would walk into school surrounded by his friends while I became the girl everyone had seen naked.

Lillian had warned me about him; I should have listened.

My phone buzzed, and I reached for it.

Cole Grayson had followed me on I*******m.

"What the hell?"

Before I could decide whether to follow him back, another notification appeared.

A direct message from Cole Grayson.