"Wait until you see it."
I helped her make supper, we ate, and we were just lounging around, chatting, when there was a knock on the door. I went to open it. "Hey, Nat!"
"Hey, Dave. I didn’t want to lug this into school, so I brought it over." She had the picture with her, properly mounted and laminated.
"Wow, that was fast!"
"I knew you wanted it," Natalie grinned.
"Hey, Mom, this is Natalie. Nat, this is my Mom."
"Nice to meet you," Mom said. "Is this the artist?"
"This is she," I said. I held up the picture for my Mom to see.
"Wow. WOW!" she said. "That’s two wows for a reason. One is because you are incredibly talented, Natalie."
"Thank you," she blushed.
"The other wow was for that look! David, you weren’t kidding, were you?"
"Nope."
"Well, I’ve got to go," Natalie said. "Ed’s waiting for me at his house. And he gets very impatient," she giggled. "I just wanted to drop this off."
"Thanks a lot, Nat. See you in school tomorrow."
"See you," she grinned, and she was off.
"Ed Bauer?" Mom asked.
"Yeah, Nat is Ed’s girlfriend."
"This is something else," Mom said, still staring at the picture. "You, my son, are in big, big trouble," she grinned.
"You know what? Somehow, I don’t seem to mind." She laughed, and I took the picture upstairs and hung it.
PART FIVE FRIDAY
I was eating breakfast the next morning when my parents came down.
"Aren’t you going to be late for school?" Mom said.
"I’m going in late today. Mr. Tilling knows all about it. I have an appointment at 8:30."
"What kind of appointment?" Mom asked.
"I’m going to see a psychologist," I told them.
"I don’t think so," Dad blurted out. "No Jenkins is going to see a psychologist."
"Then I’ll just have to change my last name to Lipschitz, won’t I?
"Don’t get smart with me, young lady," Dad barked.
"Well, what do you want me to say? If I’m a Jenkins, then a Jenkins is going to see a psychologist. I need to do this," I asserted.
"I know this week has been a little hard on you, but we can work it out in the family," Dad said.
"No, we can’t."
"Who are you going to see?" Mom asked.
"Ellie Kirkland."
Mom and Dad shot each other a look at that one. It was a rather alarmed look. "Listen, Missy, if you really feel the need to see a shrink," Mom said, "why don’t you let us find you one?"
"Because this isn’t about you, it’s about me," I replied. "Besides which, what’s wrong with Ellie Kirkland? She’s very well regarded. I know that she’s written books and everything."
"Yes, but those books are controversial," Dad claimed.
"We just think we could find you someone better, honey," Mom pitched in.
"Her ideas aren’t widely accepted," Dad added. "I just think you’d be better off with someone more in tune with what our family is like. Ellie Kirkland’s theories can screw up kids who aren’t prepared for them."
You know what? I had sit here, and seen them go from screaming to cajoling in an instant. Me seeing a psychologist was horrible-until they found out who I was seeing, and then me seeing a psychologist wasn’t quite so horrible-as long as it wasn’t Ellie Kirkland. Cassie was right. I was being manipulated. And I was tired of it.
"You know Ellie Kirkland has a son, Mike, he’s in my class," I said. Mom and Dad nodded. "I don’t know Mike well, but I know him enough. Let me tell you about Mike Kirkland. He’s a good student. He’s the starting catcher on the baseball team, and he’s good at it. He’s got a large circle of friends, and they all adore him. Even outside his circle of friends, he’s one of the best-liked kids in school. He’s kind and decent. He’s got a girlfriend, Lily Woodard, the pitcher-and those two have a relationship that’s the envy of the whole school."
"You want to talk about Ellie Kirkland’s theories. I see the result of them every day. If that is ‘screwed up’-well, I should be praying to God every night to be that ‘screwed up’."
My parents looked at me in shock.
"I’m going now, to my appointment. With Ellie Kirkland." And I got up, and that’s just what I did.
Ellie was waiting for me when I got to her office, which was in her house. "Thank you for seeing me, Ms. Kirkland," I said.
"Please, call me Ellie. You go by Missy, right?" I nodded. "Good. Bob Tilling called me and gave me some background on you. I know about the incident last week, and I know The Program has been rough on you. But Bob thinks there’s something more. That’s why he wanted me to see you. Now, why did you agree to see me?"
I took a deep breath and said, "A lot of reasons. I’m confused and scared. I don’t know who I am. I know who I was. Over the past week I realized I’ve come to hate that person. I don’t want to be who I was anymore. But I don’t know who I am now."
"Who were you?" she asked.
"The school bitch."
"Why?"
"Now that is a very complicated question," I sighed. "I don’t know. Jealousy. Attention-getting. Armor."
"Armor?" she asked.
"It was easier to be bitchy than depressed."
"Ah," she said. "But now you’re depressed, aren’t you?" I nodded. "And I don’t think the jealousy and the desire for attention have diminished, have they?" I nodded no. "Why?"
"Aren’t you supposed to tell me that?" I laughed.
"It’s easier if you figure it out on your own," she smiled.
I thought, and then I admitted it. And it was a huge admission for me to make. "Why? Because I feel…unlovable."
"Why do you feel that way?"
"Because nobody loves me. Nobody ever has."
"Well, Mr. Tilling told me about all that’s gone on, and he told me about your conversation with Cassie. She forgave what you did, Missy. I think she probably loves you."
I smiled at that. "OK, you might be right. Of course, I almost destroyed that friendship, but you’re right. We’re still a little strained right now, but it’s fixable."
"Good. There’s one. What about your parents?"
"My parents don’t love me," I asserted. "I’m a front. I’m a front for their marriage, which is littered with affairs, on both sides. I’m a front for their happy leaders-of-the-town lifestyle. I’m expected to be the dutiful daughter, and be a credit to the Jenkins name, and not embarrass them, and that’s it. Love doesn’t even factor into the equation."
Ellie sighed. "OK. I suspected that might be the problem. Look, what I’m about to say is probably very unprofessional of me, but I know your parents. Everyone in town does. If they treat you like they treat other people, I’m not surprised you have a problem with them." I looked at her in shock. You mean, somebody in this town got it? She smiled. "I don’t know if you know this or not, but your father hates my guts."
I cracked up laughing. "Oh, you should’ve seen him this morning. It was bad enough that a Jenkins actually stooped to seeing a shrink. But when he found out it was you? The veins in his temple started to throb. Oh, they were not happy. Dad told me your theories are controversial, and you screw kids up."
"What did you say to that?"
"I told them that if your son was any evidence, I’d like to be that screwed up."
She smiled at me. "That might be one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever gotten. Thank you."
"You’re welcome," I beamed. "But it’s true. I could scour Westport High in vain to find anyone that doesn’t like Mike. Even I like him. And I don’t like anybody."
"I think, deep down, you like more people than you realize. It’s just that your treatment of them hasn’t always borne that out. You like Cassie."
"Yeah, I do."