Jessie's Journal (9/17/26) (Patreon)

Dear Journal:

“I wonder if we should discontinue your therapy?”

Dr. Chen dropped his bombshell with five minutes left in tonight’s session.  I had just told him about getting the role of Miss Lynch in Denton’s production of Grease.   I wasn’t planning to audition—I don’t sing or dance, two big requirements for a musical—but Rachel and my drama teacher, Mr. Avery, encouraged me.  Well, Mr. Avery encouraged me.  Rachel pretty much badgered me into submission. 

“I don’t know if I should be proud or offended,” I joked to Dr. Chen.

“Why offended?”

“Because it’s the only part that doesn’t sing or dance.”

“You should be proud,” he said.  “It’s a featured role.”

I shrugged.  “They probably only cast me because I’m fat.”

“Did your school need to fill some sort of quota?”

That made me chuckle.  “Nooooo, it just makes sense they’d give me an adult role.  They would never cast a fat girl like me to play Sandy.”

“First of all,” Dr. Chen said, crossing his legs and setting his notebook face down in his lap to let me know he was serious.  “Stop calling yourself fat.  You’ve lost what?  Fifty pounds?”

Fifty pounds?  Did he really think I’ve lost that much?  Is it even possible?  I’ve kept my pledge not to weigh myself, but now I want nothing more than to hop on Mom and Dad’s scale.

“Secondly,” he continued.  “You earned that role.  You have an emotional maturity most girls your age don’t.”  He smiled.  “Plus, we both know you can roll some heads.”

“How ironic is that?” I laughed.  “Last year I was suspended for fighting.  Now I’m playing an English teacher.”

“It just goes to show how far you’ve come.”  Dr. Chen inhaled sharply, then lowered the boom. “Which makes me wonder if we should continue your therapy?”

“What?  Am I healed, or something?

“Jessie, you were never ill.  You just needed some guidance.  Now you’re thriving.   You have good friends.  Good grades.  Good health.  You don’t need me anymore.”

“Did my parents say something?”

Dr. Chen didn’t immediately answer…which was all the answer I needed. 

“If I felt you still needed my help,” he finally said.  “We wouldn’t be having this conversation.” 

“Will you still be seeing my sister?”

“Yes.  She still has some work to do, I’m afraid.”

I should be happy.  After all, I’m thriving while my perfect sister is floundering.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve daydreamed about that.

But I’m not.  It’s stupid, but I can’t get past the feeling that, once again, the cute boy chose her over me.

Dr. Chen made light of it as he hugged me goodbye, saying he “would always be here for me” (blah, blah, blah), but I was barely paying attention. 

I was too busy thinking of ways to make him regret his decision.

--Jessie