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Show Inside Out, 8 Chapter 2: Terra "So, why are you here, Terra?" Terra rubbed the palm of her hand along the nubby corduroy of the couch. Did anyone ever lie down on this couch while spilling their souls? She wouldn't lie down. Too much like old cartoons, with the German doctor on a chair behind her, scribbling in a notebook about her unconscious. Well, Dr. Scofield did have a notebook, anyway. "Because my parents are hoping you'll fix me?" Dr. Scofield laughed. "Are you broken?" Terra looked at the floor. "I'm sorry," said Dr. Scofield. "I wasn't laughing to make fun of you. I just like to laugh. Yes, your parents are paying me. Do you think they are wasting their money?" Terra shrugged. She knew Mom had taken on extra hours at the hospital to pay for these sessions. "Well, I'm an honest man," Dr. Scofield said. "I figure I ought to at least give it a go. Would you be willing to help me?" Terra shrugged again. He actually seemed like an OK person. Not like that stupid Mr. Jewkes, the school counselor who didn't think she knew he was playing solitaire while he supposedly listened to her. This guy was warmer; it felt like all of him was facing her, like he couldn't wait to know her better. But that's what he was paid to do. Terra sighed. |
