Page 3 of Anger Bang
Letting everyone walk all over her because it was easier to go along than to stand up for herself?
Not fine.
She knew that. And yet…here she was, in her therapist’s office, trying not to freak the fuck out at the idea of trying something new.
“I’ve always been like this,” Thea said, a bead of panic sweat slowly inching its way down the back of her neck as she battled the instinct to simply agree with Dr. Kowecki’s plan just to avoid upsetting her. “I let things flow over me, like water over a duck’s back. It’s no big deal.”
Rationalize? Her? Hell yeah.
“Thea, stuffing all of your feelings into a deep hole and pretending things arefineisn’t the same as the acceptance you seem to think it is. Give this exercise a try. Open yourself up to the possibility of change. Really, isn’t that the entire purpose of therapy? To grow and find your true voice?”
Yes.
Maybe.
Thea didn’t know.
All she did know was that deep down, she really was beyond tired of being everyone’s doormat. If this experiment could change that, then it had to be worth trying.
Chapter Two
Two days later, Thea was in Pepto-Bismol-pink hell and seriously rethinking her life choices.
She was drowning in lace, had flounces up to her literal neck, and was white-knuckling some kind of parasol thing that looked straight out of a 1980s high school prom hellscape.
“Don’t forget your hat,” her mom called out.
Thea closed her eyes and muffled her groan as much as she could. Of course there was also a hat. It was big and round, with layers of pink organza, and wide enough to cover both of her shoulders in shade.
This was when she should run—Dr. Kowecki would agree that flight was a legit response to all of this, right? But changing old habits was easier in theory back in Harbor City than it was when she was face to face with her mom.
Yeah, the real reason why they said you couldn’t go back home again was because you automatically turned back into your preteen self around your family. And twelve-year-old Thea had been all about controlling the chaos by going along to get along.
Come to think of it, thirty-one-year-old Thea was, too.
All right. She reallywasn’tfine.
Still, did she yell about how ridiculous all of this was? Did she lift up her hoop skirt and make a run for it? Did she go ice maiden so her mom would reconsider that maybe all of this was a bit much?
No.
No.
Aaaaaaand no.
Instead, she turned around and headed back to the ultra-glam wedding party RV, where she took the hat without rolling her eyes because that’s who she was in this family, the pushover go-along-to-get-along introverted nerd sister. “Thanks, Mom.”
Bridesmaid dresses were often atrocious—this was an accepted part of being in a wedding—but Thea’s sister had taken the cliché and blown it up to an argentinosaurus size. God knew the dress felt like it weighed the same two hundred thousand pounds as the one-hundred-and-thirty-foot-long sauropod. Of course, that dinosaur was in southwest Argentina, and Thea was in Colter’s Hell, Wyoming.
Talk about truth in advertising. The name said it all.
As she marched toward the mouth of the Stinkingwater River Canyon, she couldn’t mistake the hint of rotten eggs hanging in the air from the hot spring’s natural sulfurous hot water vents. This was what happened when reality show producers had several million dollars riding on the cable TV celebrity wedding of the year and needed to dial up the drama by making everyone as miserable as possible to make bank on their investment.
“Thea, honey,” her mom said as she came to stand beside her. “I know this is a bit much. But your sister, well, your sister is gonna do things her way, and you’ve always been happiest making things work for other people. It’s your superpower!”
Yeah, making it work for other people sure didn’t feel like one.
“Jackie just has her heart set on making this the perfect eighties-themed destination wedding like the TV people wanted, and I promised to do whatever I could to support her.” Mom let out a blissful sigh and pressed her hand to her heart. “She is the star, after all.”
