Saturday
Dear Olivia,

I am finding writing pointless. I mean, my mom could easily read this although she would have to break the lock first. So you now know the reason why I stopped writing in you for a few days. Not long though. At least the therapist has something to read. Yesterday was the greatest day of my life! I will be doing my exams earlier than everyone else starting Monday. It is so fantastic. Not. My parents had a talk with the principal so I could be released earlier. They said we needed a holiday from all the grieving and I am even going to parties now. How the hell did they know that? Well, the great thing is that mom and dad will finally take a break from work and we will all be going on a vacation in Puerto Rico. Just great. I will have to talk to them for 'family bonding' time. They are just evil. My mom just said Nate hasn't arrived yet, but I am going to get dressed so bye Olivia.

AMBER

There are times in your life that you wish you could disappear from this world. Right now is a perfect example of such a time. Miss Universe here stares at me all relaxed and posh. I can't believe my parents pay this woman is useless. Her glasses are obviously just for fashion and I have seen her change eye color every week. Like literally. Some people just overuse the need for contact lenses. Nate sits beside me, his hand comfortably on the edge of the couch right behind. I could feel his skin touching the back of my neck. It takes a lot of control and willpower to not lean into his arms or rest my head on his shoulder. Things have been a little awkward since I told him about the breakup with my boyfriend earlier this week. He stares at me longingly and is extra teasing as well as flirtatious. The last one isn't a shock when he directs it to other girls, but to me, it's a whole new revolution.

"Are we going to talk or what?" Nate asks looking from the therapist back to me. "Hello? I am not in your radio."

"Well, this session is all about Amber," she tells him gesturing to me. "And she has not greeted me yet."

"Didn't she nod when you said good morning?" He furrows his eyebrows at her.

"Yes, but she didn't return the greeting," she explains. "Amber here, needs to speak more often."

"Oh," he says. "So you are going to let an entire session go to waste?"

"Not if she doesn't speak," her probably fake green eyes bore holes on me.

"Yep, that's the entire session going to waste," Nate exhales loudly. "It took over a year of bugging her before she finally spoke to me, so good luck on that. Amber hates talking anyways. Am I right?"

I just shrug and he looks back at the therapist. She scans us both. Her blood stained lips part.

"By anyway are you two together?" She asks Nathan.

"Sorry," he gives her a sweet smile. "You'll have to ask Amber. That's not my place to say."

I smile at his answer, but it burns me that he didn't tell the truth. Although I am not sure if I am smiling because he basically told the woman we are together or that he just found a way to not answer the question directly. The middle aged blonde looks at both of us again before writing something on her tablet. She unfolds her legs and smiles at us, a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"Session is over," she states. "See you next week Amber. Maybe then I will read your diary which I am happy you wrote in."

She really wants me to talk, but poor her. As Nate says, I hate talking, although hate is a strong word for it. How can I put it? The goes better for me when I don't talk, so I consider talking bad luck.

"Okay," Nate gets up and stretches out his hand towards me. "Let's be on our way."

"Alright," I sigh unfolding my hands and smiling at the therapist. "Mom will be worried."

"You betcha," he winks at me and once again I fight the heat that tries to creep up my neck to my face.

Nathan and I leave the office. I heave a sigh of relief as we step out of the building.

"You know this is for your own benefit?" My best friend turns to face me with concern blue eyes. I let out an exasperated sigh.

"I know," and I lean face down into his shoulder to keep myself together.

I am not going to cry. Crying is for babies. I am a big girl. Big girls don't cry. They fight and fight I shall. I then feel Nate's hand rubbing soft small soothing circles in my back and it makes it harder not to cry. My hands wrap around his neck and my face is now in the crook of his neck.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I'm too weak."

A tear then slides down my cheek.

1999beauty
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