Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chrissy
T oday is the first official check-in with Professor Clastis, and I’m a bundle of nerves. With my paper in hand and my head held high, I head toward her office. Even though all I really want to do is hide in Rome’s bed, wrapped up in his arms.
This last week has been nothing short of bliss. Most days, Rome is busy with football, but we always end our nights together. I meet him at his apartment, and we hang out, fool around, eat food, talk, and fall asleep in each other’s arms. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy or cared for. Rome makes me feel as if the stars are about to collide, summoning the end of the world as we know it. I have nothing to fear though. Let the stars collide, let the world end. As long as I have Rome, nothing else matters.
Every two weeks, Professor Clastis wants us to turn in a report of our findings and methods while complying with HIPPA, the act that protects a patient’s identity. We must keep our mentee unnamed, so she doesn’t know who we’re partnered with, and because of the abundance of football players and students, identities are safe.
Technically, the relationship between Rome and I is inappropriate, given that I’m acting as his therapist. I should back down, ask for a reassignment, but I was never one to play by the rules. There are things about Rome I need and want to discover. We get deep, but it’s surface-level deep. And let’s not forget the shark in the water; he lied to me. He thinks I don’t know about him still doing Malik’s work. He’s under the assumption that I believe he told Malik to fuck off. That’s not the case though.
As much as I want to confront him about it, I want him to want to tell me. He needs to learn that I’m someone he can trust, someone he can go to in times of need. If I confront Rome about lying to me, he’ll get defensive and take two steps back. This way, he’ll learn what he needs. I just have to let him grow, even if it’s painful to watch.
I round the corner, and her office door comes into view, always open. I’m not sure why I’m nervous. Professor Clastis and I have always had a good relationship. It might be knowing that she’s going to ask me questions that has me nervous. I was never good at being drilled on things, no matter how confident I am.
My hands are shaking when I knock on her door.
She peers over her computer screen and smiles at me. “Ms. Willows, please, come in.”
Her office is spotless. The wooden desk where her two computer screens are is clean from dust and clutter. Various certifications, awards, and academic degrees line the burgundy walls.
She rolls her chair near the edge of her desk, and I sit in the plush leather seat in front of her.
Her smile is flawless and bright. Her eyes are dark, but they sparkle with kindness and love. She cares for each and every one of her students. There’s a reason she’s the head of the Psychology and Behavioral Health Department at Castle Brook University. Her dark hair is shaved short, with wisps of curls, and her umber skin shows no sign of age. She’s the definition of beauty and wisdom.
“How is the program treating you?” she asks, her voice like velvet.
“So far so good.” Why do I sound out of breath?
“Good, and how is your mentee? Treating you and this program with respect, I hope.”
“Oh, yes. He’s open to the experience, and he’s been nothing but respectful.”
Until he throws me into his bed . . .
“Excellent. Have you noticed any signs of burnout or depression?”
With a subtle drop of my shoulders, I nod. “Burnout. He does a lot for the team. Most are tasks that aren’t his responsibility, but he does them because the person in charge of them doesn’t. I informed him of the symptoms, and he’s aware of the condition, but he isn’t willing to accept the fact that he’s close.”
“I see. Our job as behavioral health specialists is to inform them, show them what can happen and what is happening. We are to inspire change, and it seems like you’re on your way there. But I encourage you to not let up. Check in on him every session. Ask him how his day-to-day life is, and what his current workload is like. If he seems tired, ask him what he intends to do to rest. Highlight the need for self-care and remind him that it’s okay to lessen his load. Keep up the good work, and please let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”
I meet her kind expression with one of my own as I hand her my paper.
As I head out, I stop and turn around. “Professor?”
Her eyes meet mine.
“His mother is the root cause of a lot of his trauma. He’s told me about her, but I can’t help but wonder if there’s more to the story. He’s lied to me already; how do you think I should proceed?”
“Parents are most are. May I ask what seems to bother him the most?”
“She left when he was eight. No explanation. His father doesn’t know why she left either.”
“Unfortunately, we can only work off what our patient is willing to provide. If your mentee doesn’t know why her mother abandoned him, nor his father, the question may never be answered. I’m sure he has an abandonment fear. I would work on addressing that, have him talk through those moments and fears, and tell him that it’s normal, but he shouldn’t dwell on it. He can’t let feelings such as those hold him back. Remember, don’t push too hard. Once you lose a patient’s trust, it’s nearly impossible to get back.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep talking to him. I’ll be sure not to push any boundaries.” I turn to leave.
“Ms. Willows?”
I face her again even though my mind is swimming with tactics and theories on addressing situations like this.
“Keep up the great work. You’re at the top of this program for a reason, don’t forget that.”
With a small smile and renewed motivation, I nod. “Thank you.”
My next goal for the day is to go back to my dorm and call my parents. I haven’t talked to them in a few days, and I miss hearing their voices.
Taking the path toward home, I see a familiar face, and she looks awfully relieved to see me.
“Chrissy, thank the stars I found you.”
Her greeting has me wrinkling my brow. “Is everything okay, Raina?”
With a tired sigh, she runs her fingers through her dark hair. “Malik... he’s a total ass. I thought I was making progress, but that guy is a fucking snake. He said something about Rome, and it’s not sitting right with me.”
“What did he say?”
“I know you two are friends, and I trust you care about him.” She scans the area before taking a step closer and lowering her voice. “He talks shit every day. Tells me how Rome offered to take up extra tasks, stealing his spotlight and work. I don’t know Rome, but I know you, and I know you don’t surround yourself with people like that. Malik hinted about the team not taking him seriously. He thinks they prefer Rome over him?—”
“They do,” I respond without thinking.
“I know... it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. But listen, he’s up to something. The way he talks about Rome, the way his body reacts... I don’t trust him. It’s in my report, and I’m going to talk to Professor Clastis about it, but you have to be aware. You have to tell Rome to be careful.”
Dread and worry settle over me like an uncomfortable blanket, leaving me feeling beyond sick. The team isn’t practicing today, but Rome is at the center. What does Malik gain from getting “revenge” against Rome? He would lose the person who does his work.
“Thank you, Raina. I have to go.” I start down the path, heading straight to the football field.
“Please text me!”
“I will,” I shout over my shoulder.
Would Malik try to hurt Rome or his reputation? No, he wouldn’t. He can’t. Right? My pace increases as my thoughts continue down a darker path.
“Rome is okay,” I tell myself, but it doesn’t work.
The feeling in the pit of my stomach will only fade once I see him. So, I focus my sights on the stadium and walk as fast as I can.