Today went by rather uneventful, thankfully. No fights, no verbal altercations, no ignorant assholes, no bullies, no moody teachers... I can honestly say it’s been the most normal day I’ve had in years. I feel calm, which is weird. It’s a great feeling. If everyday was like today I would be living on cloud nine. I wanna feel weightless and that should be enough.

That was until I got home, at least. Flyzik remembered to tell me what he thought would ‘cure’ my anger.

“Jack, I’ve set up a therapy appointment with a woman name Mrs. Pam for you,” Flyzik tells me as I walk through the front door. My eyes bulge out of the sockets as I snap my head in the direction of his voice.

“What?” I question, hoping that I’d heard him wrong. But I’m stuck in this fucking rut.

“It’s this coming Monday at four after school,” he explains. Today is Wednesday, meaning that I have an appointment with a therapist in five days. I don’t want to go to therapy!

“Why am I going to therapy?” I set my bag down by the door and walk into the kitchen. Zack and Rian slowly walked up stairs to avoid the oncoming riot that was sure to come. I’m not broken. I don’t need to be fixed.

“Because you need help, Jack,” Flyzik sighed, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms across his chest.

“I’m not broken. I don’t need help and I certainly don’t need someone with a degree in psychology telling me my brain is fucked up,” I seethed. I could already feel myself getting angry. I backed up a few feet to stop myself from hitting something.... Or someone. The last person I want to pick a fight with is my caretaker.

“Jack, this is for your benefit. Im not making you go because I think you need to be fixed. Im making you go because you have anger issues that need to be resolved. You’ll be sent to an alternative school before to much longer if you keep acting the way you do,” he states, tugging on his tunnels.

“I’m not going and you wont fucking make me,” I reply while grabbing my bag and going upstairs. I walk into my room and slam the door behind me, ignoring the screams from Flyzik, and lock myself in the confines of my bedroom.

---

I’ve been locked in my bedroom for the last three hours. I climbed out of my window and sat on the roof, where I am now, about an hour ago. And this is my reaction to everything I fear.

“Hey,” Zack says. I turn my head to see him crawling out of his window. I forgot that his and Ryan’s room was right beside mine. If I could just find the time...

“Hi,” I turn my head back to the backyard. The tree that sits in the middle of the yard is very calming. I might try and climb it later if I ever feel like going downstairs and risk looking at Flyzik. And I’m so sick of watching while the minutes pass as I go nowhere.

“I overheard you and Flyzik,” he notes as he takes a seat by me.

“Yeah, I’m sure the whole neighborhood did,” I groan.

“You guys were pretty loud,” he nods, looking out towards the tree I’ve been looking at for the past hour.

“Look, if you’re up here to tell me that Flyzik is right and that I need to go you can take my dick and shove it up your ass,” I offered with a low grunt. I make believe that I impress. I do not need another lecture about how therapy will fix me. There is nothing to fix.

“Im not,” Zack says, holding his hands up in fake surrender. I smirked and shook my head slightly.

“Then why are you here? No offense, but you and I haven’t exactly been around one another long enough to be best friends,” I state, dropping my legs to stretch them out from the upright fetal position I’ve been in for far to long.

“Im here to give you something to think about,” he explains after a moment of silence. I arch an eyebrow at him, silently urging him to continue. “How many foster homes have you been in?”

“This is my fourth.”

“How many of the foster parents did you get along with, not including Flyzik?”

“None.”
“How many of them have tried to give you the best they could as soon as you crossed over the threshold of their home?”

“None.”

“How many of them wanted the best for you, no matter how hard you are to handle?”

“None.”

“And if I were to allow you to use Flyzik as an answer, how many of those questions would’ve had him as an answer?”

“All of them.”

“Exactly.”

I sighed and hung my head low. “Do you really think that if I go to therapy it’ll help me?”

“I think it’ll help you as much as you let it.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s another thing you should think about,” he shrugs before getting up from his spot on the roof. I nod and smile up at him, my silent way to thank him. He walks to his window and stops before he climbs through. “If I were you, I’d go talk to him.” He adds then swiftly maneuvers his way into his room.

I fumble into my room after thinking about what Zack said. As much as I want to deny it, he’s right. Flyzik isn’t doing it because he thinks of it as a form of punishment. He’s doing it because he cares and he knows what’s best for me, even though I’m to damn stubborn to see it. Manage me, I’m a mess.

I unlocked the door and started on my way to the dining room, knowing that if I were to look for him that would be the first place to start. I go down the stairs, skipping the last two because I have long legs and I can and turn the corner to see Flyzik glued to his computer surrounded by papers

I sat down at the opposite end of the table quietly, trying my best not to disturb him. I failed horribly when the chair scraped against the floor. He looked up and me then shut his laptop while removing his glasses from the perch on his nose.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to disturb you,” I rushed, sitting down in the chair.

“It’s fine, Jack. I know you wouldn’t be out of your room willingly if it wasn’t something important,” he gives me a small smile and folds his hands together.

“So, I have a question,” I admit shyly, rubbing the back of my neck while my other hand pulled on the excess room in my jeans.

“Ask away,” he urges, eyeing me expectantly.

“Where is Mrs. Pam’s office?” I ask, quietly. For a moment I thought he didn’t hear me. I went to repeat myself but he beat me to it.

“A block or two from the bank by the school,” he looks at my with a confused look evident in his eyes. “Jack, is this your way of apologizing and saying you’ll go?”

I gulp and nod reluctantly. I don’t want to go but if it’s what he thinks I need then I’ll go. “Yes, sir.”

Notes