Page 118 of Shy Girls Can't Date Rockstars
“Alice, it’s okay to admit when things are…”
“Can you stop?” I snap.
Dr. Novak lifts her hands off her notepad. “Of course, Alice. It’s not my intention to upset you. I think we’ve done very well for this session, and I think we can continue to make great strides together.”
I deadpan her. “So you’re not signing off on me?”
Dr. Novak gives a sympathetic smile. “I think it’s best that we continue working together.”
With a sigh, I let my eyes roll.
“You might not enjoy therapy yet,” Dr. Novak says, “but I believe you can learn tools to help make your life better.”
My gaze wanders out the window. “Mm-hmm.”
“So, were you ready to discuss those food issues?”
This time, I’m glad she sees my eyes roll.
Twenty-Two
Iwalkintothefoyer of Miranda’s house, clutching the police report so tightly the paper crinkles in my fist. In the sitting room, Miranda is dressed in workout clothes and has her phone pressed to her ear. She glances up, giving me that practiced smile while continuing her conversation.
“Yes, I’ll have the contracts reviewed by Monday... Mm-hmm... Perfect.” She ends the call and lowers her phone. “How was therapy, darling?”
I hold up the folded report. “Dr. Novak gave me this.”
Miranda’s eyes flick to the paper. “What is it?”
“The police report about my parents’ car accident.”
Miranda looks puzzled. “Didn’t you already have it?”
I shake my head, feeling small.
“Your social worker gave me a copy,” Miranda continues, walking over to the fireplace and stoking the flames. “When she had me sign those forms on the day she dropped you off here.”
My chin drops. “You had a copy?”
“Yes. I assumed you did too. Why didn’t you have it?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Alice, this car accident has consumed your life, and you didn’t have the police report?”
“I… I… couldn’t take it in.”
Miranda waves it off. “Oh, well. It’s all very morbid. I sure as heck didn’t want to read it.”
“Did you read it, though? You know, there was a truck?”
“And a lot of skidding.” Miranda shudders. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”
I press the issue. “It wasn’t their fault. The report says so.”
Miranda texts on her phone, the glow of the flames lighting up one side of her face. “Yes, Alice, okay.”
“They weren’t at fault.”
