chapter five - communication

chapter five — communication

DR. GOMEZ'S OFFICE WAS THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF MOST THERAPIST'S. The way TV had laid out a therapist's office was blindingly white, modern, and cold. Dr. Gomez seemed to throw that stereotype out of the fucking window since her office was painted a warm yellow and had an ancient squishy couch with assorted throws from different countries. It was both a migraine and a comfort. The shelves were stacked high with children's toys and books on self-help, her outfit reflecting the environment and almost hippie-esque. Her lab coat looked almost out of place, and it lay underneath a random blanket on her chair. She wasn't unconventional method-wise, but she definitely wasn't a conformist life-wise.

When I was little, I used to imagine her younger self getting high with other hippie folks. Now, I didn't need to imagine it as much as I accepted it as a fact. She showed me a picture of her children once, a bong tucked away in the background right next to her cat. I wasn't sure if it was against the rule book for therapists to accidentally expose personal lives, but I didn't mind an awful lot.

I wasn't a huge fan of adults, but I could handle Dr. Gomez.

She was great at tackling nearly every problem, except for claustrophobia. Anyone with claustrophobia would probably drop dead before choosing to enter her office. I liked it though. There was a ton of shit for me to look at if I ever got bored, though I usually didn't. Dr. Gomez could usually keep my attention for the length of our sessions.

"How are we doing Kieran?" Dr. Gomez closed the door behind her as I sank into the ancient squishy couch. It swallowed me, leaving only my knees, forearms, and face out of its grasp.

"Pretty okay," I answered, busily unwrapping a candy cane. Dr. Gomez always kept a ton of them on her desk and, although they tasted like absolute shit, I made a habit of nabbing one at the start of every session. It was either that or fucking licorice.

I fucking hate licorice.

"How's the transition going? Concerta to Strattera right?" She pushed her glasses further up her nose, red lips pulling back into a friendly smile. She had huge earrings on in the shape of crystals, and I watched them wink in the yellow light of the room's lamps.

"It's going good" I nodded, popping the straight end of candy cane into my mouth.

"Lukas making sure you stick to your dose?" She teased, laughing as I rolled my eyes.

Sometimes, I would drag Lukas with me to my sessions. He and Dr. Gomez got along scarily well. She thought sessions with family and friends could help people with ADHD learn how to focus better, and she thought Lukas was the perfect combination of both in my world: closer than a friend, and not nosy enough as family. With people who were close to me, if I got used to keeping my focus around them, I'd keep it wherever they were, and then gradually start keeping it naturally. That was how I understood it anyway, although Dr. Gomez probably had an actual good explanation.

With combination ADHD, it wasn't always the focusing I had trouble with. Sometimes, Dr. Gomez, Lukas, and my Mum would all sit me down and talk about how I needed to relax. It was really mainly Lukas. He was worried I'd practice basketball one day and just never stop.

He was so fucking stupid, but I could never fault him for shit.

"Okay Kieran, I haven't seen you in two months so catch me up on your life" Dr. Gomez leaned back into her chair and I languidly took a bite off my candy cane.

Marco liked to tell me I was a monster for biting into my candy canes, but he was the one who bit into his popsicles so I didn't give a flying fuck about what he thought.

"Not much. Marco and Roger were made co-captains for basketball next year, so that's cool."

"Aw, good for them!" I nodded and a small smile flit across my face before disappearing. If anyone deserved it, Marco and Roger did. Though Marco was a complete douchebag, he was fucking good at basketball, and Roger deserved the world for putting up with his parents.

Lukas was initially supposed to be made Marco's co-captain, but Roger's parents had threatened to pull him off the team if he wasn't given a leadership position. Marco and I were just about ready to pay a visit to Mr. and Mrs. Lee when Lukas forfeit his position and gave it to Roger with the coach's position. It played out like a soap opera and I fucking hated soap operas. Nobody ended up really hating the final decision for captains though since Roger was a pretty good player too.

Man, I should steal a candy cane for Roger.

"How are you doing though Kieran? Any relationships on the horizon?" Dr. Gomez smiled at me cheerily, a chuckle escaping her mouth as I sunk further into the couch, a smirk spreading across my lips.

"You know me, can't be tied down" I gestured loosely to myself and this time she let out a full laugh, shaking her head as I straightened up, smirk morphing into a smile. I liked it when I made people laugh. Not everyone since most people sounded like fucking horses, but just certain people. People I liked.

"I'm not expecting a marriage anytime soon, and please try to avoid babies, but don't restrict yourself, Kieran," Dr. Gomez looked at me with an eyebrow raised and I shifted my eyes, choosing to look at the stuffed animals by my feet.

I had a stuffed rabbit when I was little. His name was Paxton.

"I'm not restricting myself," I finally looked up, able to meet her inquisitive gaze.

"Just haven't met any girl I liked yet"

Dr. Gomez nodded, leaning forward so she could rest her forearms on her desk. I caught a glimpse of her old, beat up watch, eyes tracing the second hand as it spun its way around the track paved by Roman Numerals.

"Alright, but in case you meet that person in the next two months—,"

"—Not gonna happen—" I interrupted her, kicking my feet out so I could match her stance.

"—let's review what type of behavior is proper in a healthy relationship," She finished, brow raised and smug.

"But I already know—"

"—That's why it's a review," She grinned, victorious as I gave up.

"Okay, what is essential to a good relationship Kieran?"

"Mutual respect"

"Very good, what else?"

"Communication"

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"Fucking pass it you dickwad," I hissed, wiping my jaw with the bottom of my shirt.

It was unbearably hot again: Roger blamed global-warming and I blamed life. For some goddamn reason, Lukas had chosen to play shirts today instead of skins, so now DJ and Marco were frolicking around half-naked without a care in the fucking world while Lukas and I were left to drown in our own sweat. I was dangerously close to beating the shit out of Lukas if he didn't start passing me the ball. Normally it was Marco's job to be an absolute ball-hog, but today Lukas was cutting it close.

"Lukas, I swear to fucking god—"

Lukas passed the ball to me so fast I almost dropped it, grunting at the force of it hitting my chest. DJ and Marco turned on me quickly, double-teaming me as I tried to bring it around to the other side. Lukas darted into the key and I tried to bounce it to him, pulling back at the last second as DJ lunged to block it. I sidestepped Marco, faking again so he'd lunge low and my line of sight would be open.

I stepped back over the three-point line and shot, ball arching beautifully before hitting the net with a satisfying swish.

"Damn, Kieran" DJ straightened up, a good-natured smile on his face as he dusted his shorts off.

"Not bad, punk," Marco punched my shoulder, impressed, "almost broke my ankles. Almost."

I rolled my eyes, glancing at Lukas to see what he thought. He was unusually quiet today, eyes muted and dull when we were hanging out. I'd suggested ditching the last day of school to play basketball in hopes that he cheered up, but he was stuck being an annoyingly sad lump. Lukas has almost stayed back at school with Roger (he couldn't ruin his perfect attendance), but I'd not-so-kindly told him to get his ass to the court.

"Lukas?" His name rolled off my tongue easily, and I spat it out, almost instantly getting pissed off when he didn't bother to make eye contact with me.

Lukas shrugged, pulling at the collar of his shirt.

"It was alright"

My jaw dropped slightly, an angry flush crawling up my neck as DJ coughed loudly into his hand, Marco snickering. I held the ball to my hip, rubbing digging into the bone as I flexed my empty fist against my side. I'd expected Marco to make that comment, maybe even DJ, but not Lukas.

"The hell? That was pretty fucking clean, Schmitt?" I squinted, the sun reflecting off of Lukas' hair like he was a shard of glass.

Lukas just shrugged again, face flat and apathetic.

"Yeah, I guess"

I passed the ball to him, following up close behind. Lukas' eyes widened in amusement as he caught it with a huff, rubbing his chest where it had hit him roughly. He looked down at me, a smile flickering across his lips as I edged up on my tippy toes to be even with him.

"Fuck that. One-on-one me right now, bitchass" My eyes were narrowed into dangerous slits, hand pushing at Lukas' chest so he stumbled back a bit.

"Kieran, I only meant I've seen better—"

My jaw dropped and Lukas laughed.

"No need to get so triggered, shorty—"

He was on the ground before he could finish his sentence, ball dropping out of his arms as he caught himself with his arms. I straddled him, hands winding around the collar of his shirt so I could pin him to the ground. My knees pressed into his sides, jabbing at the lower part of his ribs. Lukas cursed under his breath, wincing as my knees dug in further.

"Don't fucking call me that"

"Sorry Keke"

"Don't call me that either, smartass, or I'll take that basketball and shove it so far down your throat your shit'll rival fucking elephants'"

"Kinky!" Marco called out suggestively from the sideline, sniggering when DJ shot him a look, smile semi-hidden.

Lukas choked out a chuckle, and I relaxed my grip so he could breathe a bit, not wanting to actually hurt the guy. DJ and Marco were passing a bottle of water back and forth watching us like from the sideline like we were fucking WWE superstars. I looked back at Lukas, double-taking when I saw him looking up at me with a shit-eating grin.

"Kieran, I meant I've seen you do better. You're fucking awesome at ball, so yeah, I didn't think your last shot was all that impressive compared to what I've seen you do before"

"What?" I scowled gruffly.

I barely blinked and he'd flipped us over, grin widening.

"The fuck?! Let me go, motherfucker" I struggled under him, his thighs uncomfortably wedged between mine.

"You're really inflexible," Lukas mused, pushing off the ground so he could get off of me.

"Ow," I muttered to myself, wincing when I pulled my legs together to get up. The muscles inside of my thighs screamed and Lukas put a hand on my shoulder to steady me when I stumbled. My cheeks flamed, arm jerking out of his grasp.

"Shit, sorry Kek--Kieran," He frowned, guilt flooding his eyes.

I rolled my eyes, pushing off of him.

"Fuck off, Lukas. And don't call me that." I hobbled over to DJ and Marco, grabbing Lukas' water bottle and taking a big gulp.

"What? Keke? I didn't" Lukas frowned, taking his water bottle from me and finishing it until the halfway point. The water line disappeared under the label and I grabbed it back, convinced I needed it more than him. He didn't fight me, eyes boring into the side of my head as I drank like I hadn't all day.

I'd actually drank a glass in the morning with my pills, so I wasn't completely dehydrated.

"Not Keke, Kieran. Don't call me Kieran," Lukas' eyebrows shot into his hairline and I rolled my eyes, focusing on finishing the water.

"Sounds fucking weird when you say it"

Lukas smiled and I spotted it from the corner of my eye, my own lips twitching upwards. I hid it with the water bottle, glaring at Marco as he made a kissy face at me from the ground.

"DJ, control your bitch please"

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2193 words

Sorry for the late updates guys :( I'm working on this week's as we speak! Hopefully it'll be up soon

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