“Would anyone like to share something positive from their week?” Kristie asked as a way to start off the group. Of course, no one jumped in to answer. Big surprise.
And, of course, it was Maxx who volunteered first.
“I’d like to share something.” Maxx’s deep voice seemed to reverberate in my ears. I kept my eyes firmly on my notebook, making manic little doodles in an attempt to zone him out.
“Great, Maxx,” Kristie encouraged, sounding excited as she always did when Maxx took over. And that’s what he did. He controlled the flow of the discussion. He moved and maneuvered things to fit his purpose.
I had started to overlook his glaringly self-centered agenda when I felt I had a chance at finding something more beneath his narcissistic surface. But that was before I knew exactly who he was.
“I had a date last weekend, with the most amazing and beautiful girl I have ever met,” Maxx began, and I felt myself flush. Shit, shit, shit! If anyone found out who that particular girl was, I wouldn’t be walking away with a halfhearted warning. I’d have my ass kicked out of the counseling program faster than I could say poor boundaries.
“Really? That sounds great,” Kristie enthused. Twyla, the sorority girl who sat beside me, made an angry grunt under her breath.
Her friend Lisa leaned over and whispered. “You waited too long, T,” she teased. I peeked over at the girls, who both seemed less than thrilled by the news of Maxx’s fantastic date.
“We’ll see,” Twyla whispered back, smirking. I worked hard to rein in the urge to go bitch on her ass. The words He’s mine blossomed on my lips, and I pinched my mouth closed so I wouldn’t snarl them in some sort of animalistic impulse to stake my claim.
A claim I didn’t have, nor wanted to have.
I’ll just keep telling myself that over and over again, and then just maybe I’ll believe it.
“Yeah, we went to see a movie. Kind of lame, I know, but there’s something about this girl . . . we have this connection that I’ve never felt before,” he said softly.
I refused to look at him, though I knew he wanted me to. My heart constricted in my chest, and while a part of me did a happy dance, another part of me wanted to scream at him.
His words were nothing more than lip service, and the girlie, giggly part of me was overrun by a self-righteous anger.
I gritted my teeth and doodled more furiously in my notebook.
“That sounds very promising, Maxx. I’m happy you had such a positive experience,” Kristie said enthusiastically.
I decided to chance a glance at him. He wasn’t looking at me, for once. His attention was on Kristie, and everyone else’s was on him. So I took the time to study him, looking for the insincerity that I had convinced myself was there.
But his face was as open and genuine as I had ever seen it. A lump lodged firmly in my throat, and I felt my eyes burn. How could he know what those words meant to me, how much I wanted them to be true?
I looked away before he caught me staring. The rest of the session passed, and I barely registered anything or anyone. I didn’t rise to the bait when Evan made a nasty comment about “interfering, self-righteous” people. Nor did I bat an eye when Maxx invariably contradicted him.
I was too focused on my internal struggle over Maxx freaking Demelo. Was he the guy who had looked at me with hope in his eyes? Or was he the man who lorded over a nightclub while he passed out poison? Both were equally frightening.
After support group was over, I helped Kristie clean up and put the chairs away. Clearly, my lack of engagement during group hadn’t gone unnoticed. As soon as we were alone, Kristie made it a point to mention it.
“Aubrey, I don’t want you to feel scared to speak in group now. You are my co-facilitator; I need you to be involved. There just has to be a boundary between you and them. You have to learn what’s okay to say and what should be kept silent. It’s a process. That’s why you’re here,” Kristie said, parroting Dr. Lowell’s words as we packed up the cups and put them back in the plastic sleeves.
“I guess I just need to find that balance,” I admitted, not sure what exactly she wanted me to say.
“You know, this isn’t for everyone,” Kristie said after a beat. I looked at her in shock, her words cutting me to the quick. It was becoming painfully obvious that I wasn’t winning any points with her. I knew she questioned my motivations for being a counselor. I could tell she was beginning to think I didn’t have the innate professionalism to manage my personal feelings and keep them separate.
And as more time had gone by, and the more interaction I had with Maxx, I knew, deep down, that Kristie’s fears were well founded. I was crossing the line. I was being inappropriate. My feelings for Maxx were beginning to cloud everything.
But that didn’t mean I was ready to call it a day. I would fight for the life I wanted with everything I had—even if that meant a hefty dose of denial, denial, denial.
“What do you mean?” I asked hoarsely, trying to keep my voice even, but my emotions were a runaway freight train, and I couldn’t stop my lip from quivering as I tried to control my burgeoning tears.
Kristie put her hand on my shoulder in what felt like a condescending gesture. “I just mean that this is a tough field. Not everyone can hack it,” she explained and gave me a smile that was too placating to be genuine.
I had thought Kristie was a nice and competent counselor. Competent she may have been, but she was also a tad on the judgmental side. And it was obvious she was being very judgmental about me.
I didn’t bother to respond. I grabbed my things, put on my coat, and with a mumbled good night, I left.
“Hey.” I started at the sound of the deep voice. Maxx was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, a gray beanie pulled down over his hair. My stomach flipped at the sight of him, but my brain wasn’t so easily swayed.
I gave him a curt nod and continued walking down the hallway, my shoes clacking against the tile loudly.
“Aubrey, wait,” Maxx called out, but I didn’t slow down. Maxx was a bomb about to go off. He had destroyed the part of me that thought, however briefly, about throwing caution to the winds. He was a liar. He was a fake. And he was the one person capable of ruining my entire life.
“I’ve got to get going. I’ll talk to you later,” I called over my shoulder, picking up my pace. I heard his footsteps speed up, and then his hand was wrapped around my arm, bringing me to a stop.