Impulse
can only hope the price tag isn't too steep.
    119
    My Escort Arrives
    Someone short and sour smelling, someone new-- the weekend shift, no doubt. No telling who'll open my
    door without knocking next.
    Ready? Dr. Boston is waiting. She doesn't offer a name, just a steady stare.
    I haven't a clue what's behind that ice-cube gaze. "Hi, I'm Conner. Would you mind telling me your name?"
    Can ' t you read? It ' s right here on my name badge: Kate! She's practically yelling. Anger? Fear? Of me?
    Whatever. I've got my own fear to deal with. The hallway buzzes today--kids, adults. As I veer toward Dr. B's 115
    120
    office, I hear shards of conversation inside a conference room. The door is open, an invitation to listen. Does Daddy know about Mama? Such sorrow in the voice, I hesitate, wanting to find out the answer.
    Kate shoves me past before the reply. Seconds later a girl sweeps into the hall. Behind me, I hear her cry and I turn, wanting to see her face. It's a gift, despite the sadness etched there. What brought her to this place? 116
    121
    No Time to Figure Her Out Now
    Dr. B is waiting for me, a knockout in knockoff designer suede. The cut of the suit leaves little doubt about her luscious figure. I've got to stop thinking that way, or I won't have a shot at controlling
    this situation. Maybe I won't anyway. Hell's bells, maybe despite my plans I don't really want control.
    A light must have gone on in my eyes, because Dr. B suddenly gives me a wry smile. What is it, Conner?
    I shake my head. "Nothing. Just thinking about control and how my need for it seems to be shrinking." 117
    122
    Her smile grows wider. Oh, I doubt that, Conner Now, what did you decide about confiding secrets?
    My eyes lower to the V of her blouse. "You have to go first, but I guess I'm ready to play your game."
    Okay. When I was younger than you, but old enough to know right from wrong,
    I had sex with a teacher too.
    She knew? 118
    123
    Hands Sweating
    I walk, heel-touch-toe, toward Room C-6 where I'm told I'll find Tony Sr. I stroll slowly, making him wait, like he made me wait all this time.
    As I round the corner Vanessa comes hustling along the sticky floor, eyes glistening. I wonder what stroke of luck has put us both in this space.
    "Hey, Vanessa, you okay?" She doesn't look okay, but we won't have much time for small
    talk before someone notices we're here. Alone. 119
    124
    Vanessa sniffles, Not really, but thanks for asking. Why do they make you see your family when all you want to do is curl up in a little ball?
    "They call it therapy, sweetie. Don't you feel cured?" I laugh and she tries too. "I'm off to see my own warped next of kin. Feel better."
    I start to skip and, a half smile in her voice, Vanessa calls, I already do. And Tony? I ' ll keep my fingers crossed that things go better for you than they did for me. 120
    125
    Crossed Fingers
    Are not enough. Dread sledgehammers my gut as I approach the door. Inside, I hear voices: Dr. Bellows's grunt and a stranger's whine.
    The coward in me wants to turn around, but screw him. The kid inside wants to see his dad again, and the avenger wants to grill him alive.
    I step through the door, and the man who turns to face me looks nothing at all like I remember. His hair is silver--how old is he, anyway?-- 121
    126
    and his weepy eyes are shrunk back into skin like alligator hide. Will I look like this person one day? He can't really be my father, can he?
    He stands and holds out a hand to me. Hello, Anthony. Long time no see. You sure have changed! How have you been?
    All the stuff I wanted to say slips from my brain like oil-slicked turds. I stutter, "H-hello, Pa. I'm okay, I guess." I even shake his hand. 122
    127
    I Draw the Line
    At hugging him, though. Shit, I haven't hugged anyone since Phillip. The last time was in the hospital, when I hugged him good-bye.
    Pa tries, and I duck, slumping into a chair. He does likewise, eyes never leaving my face. Then we sit, silent as death, until Dr.

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