“I don’t know how. All I know is I end up saying stuff I don’t mean to say and agree to shit I shouldn’t.”

“What did you—”

“And I notice things I shouldn’t be noticing, such as certain things he says or how he smells of chlorine.”

She smiled.

“What?” I asked, somewhat annoyed.

“So he’s familiar, easy to talk to, and smells nice?”

I didn’t answer her. How would I even begin to answer her?

“I want to talk about Summer,” she said.

“Great.” I didn’t even hide my relief.

“Did you love her?”

Fuck, she was really on a roll.

“What?”

“Do you think what you felt for her was love?”

“It’s not a fair question.”

“Why isn’t it fair?”

“You’re asking me to name a feeling in hindsight. I can’t do that. It’s different now.”

“I don’t think it is,” she said, shaking her head and adjusting herself in her seat. “Why would you think it might be?”

“Because it is. I know better, now.”

“It’s a simple enough question, Thomas.”

I was dangerously close to falling victim to The Stare again. So I preemptively folded. “No, I don’t think it was love. Not real love.”

“Was she also familiar, easy to talk to, and smelled nice?”

Dr. Foster looked so pleased with herself, it was borderline revolting.

“Look—”

“Let me guess,” she said, raising a hand. “It doesn’t matter?”

Fuck me, I hate this woman.

“Thomas?”

“Alicia?” I replied in the exact same tone.

“Would you be okay to find yourself attracted to another boy?”

“What?” I asked, a bit insulted.

“How would you feel about it?”

“Hypothetically?” I asked, to which she tipped her head, nodding. “I’d be fine with it, why not?”

“And if it were that boy? The one who gave you that jacket? Would that be okay, too?”

“Look, I know I’m attracted to him, that’s not the issue here.”

“It isn’t?”

“No. It’s not.”

“What is the issue?”

“I don’t know why I am. Or how, for that matter.”

“Why do you think?”

“It—”

“—doesn’t matter,” she said. “Right.”

“Well—”

“Are you seeing him again?”

“No. I mean, we do go to the same school; we share a few classes, and I do have to return his jacket—”

“So, yes?”

“He also invited me to this party tomorrow night.”

“He did?”

“Yes. I told you he’s nice.”

She smiled. “Are you going?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s at his best friend’s house.”

“What’s the matter with his friend?”

“He’s a prick, that’s all.”

“He is?”

“First contact I had with someone from that school was him texting me asking if I was the, quote, psycho kid.”

“What did you reply?”

“Yes, of course. I don’t lie, Alicia,” I added, smirking.

At least she did too.