Page 115 of Shy Girls Can't Date Rockstars
“Is it too painful for you to discuss your parents?”
“Well, no, I…” I catch myself and purse my lips. I’m not doing this. I’m not opening up to a shrink.
She waits patiently before asking softly, “You, what, Alice?”
I shake my head, looking out the window at the thriving plant life.
“Do you like gardening?” Dr. Novak asks, seemingly following my gaze. When I don’t respond, she continues with, “I do a lot of garden therapy with my patients. We could try that during our next session, if you like?”
At the words,next session, I involuntarily shudder.
Dr. Novak sighs as if a revelation has just hit her. “Do you have an aversion to therapy?”
“Can you blame me?” I grumble at the window.
“I don’t blame you for anything, Alice,” she replies. “You had the worst thing imaginable happen to you. Of course you’re hurting. But if you let me, I’d like to help you.”
“You can’t help me!” I snap. “They’re gone! They’re gone, and I’m to blame.”
“Alice, you weren’t in the van. You didn’t cause it.”
“I made them late. I caused them to drive into that storm.”
“You don’t control the weather.”
I’m about to snap at her again, but her words cause me to halt.
“It was a sharp turn on the road. The police report said the tire tracks on the road showed they tried to slow down,” Dr. Novak says, lifting the report from her clipboard and holding it out to me. “A semi-truck on the road took over two lanes. It cut them off, and they didn’t have time to react. With so much water on the road, they didn’t stand a chance.”
I blink at her hard, trying to compute the words.
“Alice, it was a freak accident. Whether it was five minutes earlier, or ten minutes later, who knows what would have happened.”
“Th-there…” I stutter, staring at the report in her hand. “There was really a truck?”
“It’s all in the report. Dr. Timms sent me over everything he could.”
I take the report, and as soon as I look at the words, the lines start to scatter and blur into two. I groan and lower the paper.
“Are you okay?”
I shake my head as the tears build. “I can’t read it.”
“Do you want me to?”
A sob breaks free. “There was really a truck?”
“You weren’t told?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t hear it.”
Dr. Novak reaches across and touches my knee. “Alice, you’ve been punishing yourself.”
My hands lift to cover my face just in time to catch the tears. I hear Dr. Novak pull tissues from the box, but I can’t lower my hands to take one.
“Take your time,” she whispers. “Let your chest settle. Let your heart ease.”
“I…” I sob, wiping my eyes dry. “I… I…”
