Chapter 23: Pt. 2 | Think Happy Thoughts

“Sometimes we love people so much that we have to be numb to it because if we actually felt how much we loved them, it would kill us.” ― Riding in Cars

“I’d forgotten how much it snows in Massachusetts this time of year,” Georgina says from the backseat of my car.

We (Graham, Jackson, Georgina, and I) just left Biscotti and now we’re on our way back to the Cambridge’s house to help Georgina get settled in and such. Since she’s decided to move back to the States (which I honestly had no idea she was planning on doing—I just thought that she’d come home from Graham’s birthday, spend maybe a week or so here in Andover, and then go back to Europe), Graham suggested that she should go ahead and move into the house.

Georgina was a little bit hesitant to it at first—she said that she didn’t want to overstep her boundaries, and that she wanted to make sure that Tucker was okay with her moving in. Graham assured her that Tucker would be as happy, if not happier, than he and Jackson are to see their mom again.

“Does it not snow in Amsterdam?” Graham wonders from the passenger seat.

“Hardly ever,” She replies. “We get less than about a month of snow every year,” Georgina explains.

“That must be incredibly amazing,” I interject, skillfully swerving my car around a patch of black ice in the middle of the road. God, I hate winter and snow and ice and just about every single thing that this stupid season entails. I’ve said it before, I know, and I’ll continue to say it until spring finally rolls around and I’m relieved.

“You don’t like snow?” Georgina asks me curiously.

“I hate it,” I sigh, pulling Graham’s driveway, parking behind his shiny, black BMW. Speaking of, I just now found out that that’s the kind of car he drives. I’m just so bad with stuff like that, recognizing car makes and models, so even though I’ve seen and been in his car quite a few times, I’m just now figuring out what kind it is.

“I love snow,” Jackson pipes. “Will you make a snowman with me, mom?” He randomly asks and it’s so cute, because it’s the first time I’ve heard him call her ‘mom’.

“Of course I will,” She chirpily agrees as I turn the car off and the four of us get out, walking around to the trunk, which is where Georgina’s bags are.

She only brought with her two duffel bags to America, but surely, everything that she owns couldn’t be crammed into a couple of duffel bags. I’m sure it’d cost a boatload to have flown internationally with a bunch of luggage though, so I’m assuming she is just going to have the rest of her stuff sent over from Amsterdam.

Georgina tries to grab her duffel bags, but Graham, being the incredibly adorable gentleman he is, shoos her hand away and grabs both the bags and then closes my trunk. Jackson starts whining then though, saying that he’s “super strong” and that he wants to carry one of the duffel bags, so Graham hands him one of them with a laugh and then we make our way to the front door.

“Whose car is that?” Georgina asks to no one in particular, motioning to Cassidy’s white Toyota Avalon.

“That’s Cassidy’s car,” Graham tells his mother, using his key to unlock the front door and letting the three of us go inside before he does. “She’s Tucker’s fiancée, and she moved in here about two months ago,” He explains, shutting the front door behind him.

“Tucker’s getting married?” She wonders with an expression of shock and happiness etched across her face.

“He is,” Graham confirms, putting her duffel bag down on the carpeted floor near the couch and sitting down just as I do. Jackson and Georgina copy our motions then and plop down on the loveseat right across the glass coffee table from us. “They’re getting married in a few weeks, actually, I think. Do you wanna meet her?”

“Okay, sure,” Georgina nods, obviously still a tad bit surprised by the fact that her oldest son is getting married. “ I would love to meet my future daughter-in-law.”

“I’ll go and get her!” Jackson eagerly volunteers, hoping down off of the loveseat and running out of the room.

“So, Ma, how’s everything been? How’re Nana and Granddad? What’s Amsterdam like? I have so many questions—I’m just so happy to see you,” Graham excitedly rambles and I have to hold back a small giggle. He just has this certain je ne sais quoi about him, Graham does, that gives off this kind of laidback, yet enchantingly wonderful persona.

I mean, he’s just always so cool, calm, and collected, which is exactly how I lik—, no love him, but now his persona has just completely shifted. Right now, he’s all happy and eager and giddy and excited and it’s just so freaking adorable and I’m so happy that I could be a part of making that happen for him.

“Everything has been great,” Georgina chuckles. “Nana and Granddad are great,” She informs him, and I remember that Graham told me that when she left the US, she went to live with her parents, who obviously live in Amsterdam. “They’re missing you boys like crazy though, so I told them that maybe this summer the three of you could fly out and visit. I mean, that was before I knew about Sawyer and Cassidy, of course, but both of them are welcome to go too, if they’d like,” She says.

My heart kinda skips a beat them and for two good reasons. Reason #1: Graham’s mom literally just invited me to spend the summer (three months) in Amsterdam, which, from the internet pictures I’ve seen, is one of the most picturesque places in not just the Netherlands, but in all of Europe. And Reason #2: After summer, it’ll be autumn, and autumn is when Graham goes to college. In that moment, I really kind of hate Georgina for letting Graham start school early or whatever it she did.

I mean, Graham and I were both born in the same year—1996—only like, eight months or so apart, so I think that if Georgina had let him start school just a tad bit later (well, like, a year later) then we’d both be juniors and we wouldn’t have to deal with the college thing. We don’t really talk about, what we’re going to do when he goes off to college, but I know that in the coming months, we’ll be forced to.

Thanks to my thinking, I don’t hear what Graham says in response to his mom’s proposed European trip— I guess it’s something funny though, because they laugh.

“Cass was still asleep,” Jackson announces, coming back into the room and reclaiming his spot next to his mother. “But I just poked her a few times in her stomach, and she woke up. She said that she’ll be down in a few minutes,” He explains.

And so she does, come down a few minutes later, I mean. And like every single other time I’ve seen her—which hasn’t been that many times, to be honest, which is slightly weird, since she does live here and I spend quite a bit of my time here—Cassidy looks gorgeous, and it’s just not fair at all, considering she just now got up.

“You must be Cassidy?” Georgina wonders, standing up with a friendly smile when Cassidy enters the room.

“Guilty,” Cassidy confirms with a nod and a small, shy smile. “Jackson said that you’re his mom?” She says, phrasing the statement like a question.

“I am,” She confirms and then steps towards Cassidy, giving her a hug. “I can’t believe you and Tucker are getting married—that’s so exciting! Have you set a date?”

“Yeah, we have, actually,” Cassidy nods after pulling away from Georgina and sitting down on the arm of the loveseat. “We’re hoping for February 8, so in just a few weeks. According to the forecast though, there’s a tiny chance of rain that day, but we’re hoping that doesn’t happen. I mean, I guess we could’ve just picked some other day, but Tucker and I started dating on December 8, 2008, and we got engaged on January 8, 2011, so we thought it’d be cute to keep the tradition going by getting married on February 8, 2014,” She explains. “But yeah, we’ve booked the Country Club to get married at and it’s just so beautiful and gorgeous and I really hope it doesn’t get rained out,” Cassidy gushes and I can tell just how excited she is to be getting married. I guess this is a part of life that almost all little girls look forward to though, planning their dream wedding, so it makes sense. Personally, I think that they’re too young to be getting married, but obviously they’re in love.

“Well, I’m sure whatever day it ends up being on will be a beautiful day,” Georgina replies. “Is it too late for me to get an invitation?” She asks, as if her daughter-in-law to be will actually deny her the chance to come to her eldest son’s wedding.

I assume they’ve already sent invitations out though and although most brides-to-be would probably be annoyed by having to add to the guest list and alter the seating arrangements and everything like that, Cassidy’s such a sweetheart that she doesn’t even seen in the least bit irritated by Georgina’s request.

“Oh my God, no—of course it’s not too late! Consider yourself invited,” She chirps, waving her hand dismissively. “Oh, speaking of the wedding,” Cassidy says, then looks over at Graham and me. “I’ve been meaning to ask you for the past few days, Sawyer—will you be one of my bridesmaids?” She randomly asks with a hopeful look, which has me kind of taken aback, since we’re not friends or anything. But don’t get me wrong, she’s so nice and I like her and all, but we really aren’t friends.

“You want me to be one of your bridesmaids?” I ask with an incredulous look on my face, even though I heard her just fine. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” She nods. “Graham is going to be one of Tucker’s groomsmen, so it just makes sense. Besides, you being a bridesmaid and Graham being a groomsman will give the two of you practice being in an altar together, you know, for when you two tie the knot in the next few years or so,” Cassidy explains then.

“I feel like your one and only goal in life is to make my life a series of awkward situations, Cassidy,” Graham informs her with a small sigh, as I sit there next to him, blushing liking crazy and holding his hand loosely in mine. Here I was thinking that it was just Graham, Jackson, and Tucker who had the bluntness gene, but that is evidently not the case, because Cassidy seems to have inherited it as well.

“Well, no, that’s not my only goal in life, little brother-in-law-to-be,” Cassidy nonchalantly assures him before averting her gaze back over to me. “So, what do you say, Sawyer? Will you be one of my bridesmaids? By the way, if you say no, I’m going to be really, really sad and I’ll probably cry,” She adds, but I think she’s joking.

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to get really sad and cry, so yeah, sure, I’ll be one of your bridesmaids,” I agree with a small laugh.

“Ooh, yay!” Cassidy exclaims, obviously happy with my acceptance. “If you guys will excuse me for just like, five minutes, I need to go and call the wedding planner, Mary Katherine, and tell her the good news,” She explains, standing up from the arm of the loveseat. “It was so nice to meet you, Ms.…Cambridge?” Cassidy states, phrasing her statement like a question, because she’s obviously not sure on what she should address Georgina as. It makes sense though, because as far as I know, she’s divorced from Graham’s father, whose last name, I’m assuming, is Cambridge. I suppose she could’ve just kept the last name though, instead of going back to her maiden name, which is a reasonable conclusion, seeing as how Jackson shares the same last name as his brothers, even though he was born after his mom left.

“You too, Cassidy,” Georgina replies with a smile. “And you can call me Georgina,” She informs her.

“Alrighty,” Cassidy states, running her fingers through her blonde hair. “And I’d absolutely love to hear all about Amsterdam, just as soon as I get back,” She adds before pulling her phone out of her pajama pants pocket and skipping out of the living room then.

“She’s very chirpy,” Graham’s mother observes once Cassidy’s gone and probably out of earshot. “She seems like a nice girl though,” She adds.

“Cass is awesome,” Jackson notes. “Well, sometimes she is. She never makes snowmen with me, no matter how many times I ask her,” He huffs.

“That’s because she’s anemic, Jackson,” Graham laughs.

“So that means that she can’t make snowmen with me?”

“Well, no, not really, it just means that she doesn’t have enough red blood cells,” He explains. “She gets cold really easily,” Graham informs him.

“Well, she just needs to stop doing that, because I need someone to make snowmen with me,” Jackson sighs dramatically before jumping down from the loveseat again. “So, I have to go and feed Bono, that’s our puppy, mom, so after that, can we go make our snowman?” He asks, looking up at Georgina with a hopeful look.

“Sure we can,” Georgina agrees, ruffling up Jackson hair and then stands up as he leaves the room, probably headed upstairs. “So, I’m gonna give the happy couple some privacy and start getting all unpacked,” She says to Graham and me before grabbing her bags and leaving the room after Graham tells her where her room is.

“I can’t believe you got my mom to come back home,” Graham sighs with a grin, turning on the couch to face me.

“To be honest, I really didn’t think that she was going to actually move back to the States. Like, I thought that she’d just visit for a few days and then go back home to Amsterdam,” I admit, absentmindedly twisting a lock of my hair around my finger, copying Graham’s motions and turning towards him on the couch. It’s like an actual full sized couch, so there’s a little bit of space between us, but not much.

“Do you guys not talk?” I query, raising my eyebrows at him in question. “Like, not even over the phone or anything?”

“Nope, not really,” He replies, shaking his head in the negative. “The last time I talked to her was three years ago, when Jackson, Tucker, and I went to visit her,” He explains and I vaguely remember him telling me about that when I was in the psychiatric ward. “But yeah, the time difference makes it kind of hard for us to talk at a convenient time. She’s always been like, really paranoid about my dad finding her or us though, so that’s another reason. I guess she just thinks that he might be released from prison early and will try to track either her or us down or something,” Graham informs me.

“That makes sense,” I reply with an understanding nod. I mean, if I was Georgina and I had three children in the States and I lived in Amsterdam, I’d probably be a bit paranoid about contacting them too, considering the whole psychotic ex-husband in prison thing. Granted, it’s not like I’ve ever met Graham’s dad or anything, but Graham said he’s in prison for manslaughter, so in my book, that automatically makes him psychotic. “Well, I’m just glad I could help make you happy,” I chime.

“I just really don’t even understand how I got so lucky,” He randomly informs me.

“What do you mean?” I giggle, giving him a curious look and scooting closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around me.

“Just that you’re so amazing and perfect, even though you have ever reason in the world to be bitter and angry,” He clarifies. “And there’s so many guys in Andover who I’m sure would be happy to be able to call Sawyer Jameson their girlfriend, but they don’t get to do that and I do, and I think that’s really cool,” Graham states.

“You are just way too sweet, Graham Cambridge,” I laugh lightly, picking my head up off of his shoulder and pressing my lips against his for a small kiss.

As if on cue though, my iPhone starts vibrating like crazy in the pocket of my pants just then. I don’t think that Graham feels or hears it though, because he loops one of his arms around my waist loosely, pulling me closer to him and then he cups the left side of my face in his other hand. I seriously consider just ignoring my phone, because I’m pretty positive I’d rather make out with my boyfriend than talk to whoever is calling me.

That sounds awful, I know, but in my defense, I know that it isn’t one of my friends, because they should all be at school right now, so that means it’s either my mother, my brother, Tom, Serena, or Tyler, or someone else. The sensible part of my brain kicks in though and tells me that it might be an emergency, so I hesitantly pull away from Graham with an apologetic grin and pull my phone out of my pocket, answering it.

“Hey mom,” I greet, seeing ‘Heather’ flash across the screen. I don’t know what made me save her number under her first name instead of ‘mom’, but I guess I did.

“Hi honey,” She says in a chipper tone and I start to wonder why she’s not at work—her little vacation thing was supposed to end today. “Where are you?” She asks.

“I’m at Graham’s place,” I respond. “Why?” I wonder, tiredly running my fingers through my hair. I really haven’t done anything strenuous today, but I’m super tired.

“Just curious. Things at the office were slow, so I took the rest of the day,” She explains. “Aspen, Beckett, and I are just about to go out to lunch,” My mom tells me.

“Why’re you going to lunch with Beckett and Aspen?” I wonder. I don’t care who she eats with, but I hope that she doesn’t try and force Graham and me into lunch.

I mean, the last time my mother forced me to have a meal with her and invite Graham, things went pretty awfully. I’m talking about the disastrous dinner with Tom at La Bella Luna, obviously. Speaking of Satan, I haven’t heard from him since the three days that have passed since that awful dinner. I don’t know where he’s living at now and I really don’t care—I know that that sounds awful, but I don’t really care.

My mom wasn’t even bluffing (which I thought that she was, because she’s not exactly the ballsy type) and she actually did have our locks changed that previous day. She even packed up all of Tom’s stuff (which wasn’t much, just a few articles of clothing and some cigarettes and stuff) and mailed it all to Tom’s parents in Worcester. So, I guess that’s where he’s at. My poor grandma and granddad, having to deal with their murderer garbage son.

“So I can talk to them,” My mother simply states. “I’m not really happy with the fact that your seventeen year old best friend, who is like a daughter to me, is dating my twenty-one year old son, especially since they’re living in the same house. I suppose I’ll have to just deal with it though,” She sighs. “Anyway, I just need to take them to lunch and make sure that they’re being responsible and whatnot—you know, having safe s—“

“Mother, oh my God,” I groan loudly, cutting her off, internally cringing. “Please don’t put the image of my best friendand my brother doing it in my head,” I plead.

“I’m sorry, dear,” She laughs hysterically, but I don’t see the humor in it at all. “Anyway, the real reason I called is because I just spoke to James,” My mom explains.

“You spoke to who?”

“James,” She repeats. “Dr. Fontana.”

“Oooh, right,” I say, having temporarily forgotten that she’s weird and likes to call Dr. Fontana ‘James’, instead of ‘Dr. Fontana’, which is what I’ve always called him. “Why were you talking to Dr. Fontana?” I wonder, hoping that she’s not about to make me go to a session right now. I don’t want to go see him at all today and if I hadn’t had that whole panic attack situation this morning, she might let me skip the session, but since that happened, I know that she’ll be adamant for me to go.

“He called me to tell me that his 11:30 cancelled,” She tells me. “Apparently he’s got something to do today at 4:00, which is, you know, when you usually go, so he was just calling to see if you could come in now and stay until 1:30,” My mother informs me and I groan internally. My mom doesn’t call me all that often at all, but when she does, it’s usually to force me to do something that I don’t want to do, like go to therapy.

“Do I have to?” I groan, not in the mood to go hang out with my psychiatrist for two hours and talk about everything that’s wrong with my life. It’s my boyfriend’s eighteenth birthday, for crying out loud, of course I’d rather hang out with him today that Dr. Fontana.

“Well, no you don’t have to,” She denies and I think that’s probably the first time she’s ever told me that I don’t have to go to a session. Probably the last time too. “It’d just make more sense to go now though, don’t you think? Because if you don’t go today, you’ll have to go on Saturday, probably. Are you too terrible busy?”

“No, I guess not,” I sigh quietly, realizing that she has a point—I’d rather go now than have to go in on the weekend. “But can I stay for just one hour and not two?”

Like I mentioned before, as a part of my agreement with Dr. Fontana, I have to do a two hour session with him every week day that I want him to write me a school excuse. Now that the investigation of me is over though, I know I’ll have to go back to school soon, but I’m gonna milk this thing as long as I can. It’s probably the greatest agreement ever, but it’s better than nothing.

As much as I hate having to spend an entire two hours talking to him about stuff like my PTSD and Flynn and my anxiety and Tom and everything, it is better than being forced to go to be re-admitted to the crazy center.

I really do think that she (my mom) would have me re-admitted if I stopped going to Dr. Fontana full-time—it’d save her a boatload of money, that’s for sure, considering she pays Dr. Fontana $5,000 a month for my sessions.

A huge waste of money, if you ask me, but no one ever asks me. Anyway though, it’s not like she’d do it just to spite me (which is the only reason Tom had me admitted, I think) but I think that she’s just genuinely concerned about my mental well-being.

I know that it seems like she’s purposely distant from me and that she tries to put me off on Dr. Fontana a lot of the time instead of talking to me about my problems like a normal mother would do, but I know that that’s not the case.

She just doesn’t know how to help me—she works at some huge conglomerate, where she is the Chief Executive Officer, meaning she deals with stuff like making corporate decisions.

She doesn’t know how to deal with teenage drama, and as bad as I know she wants me to be okay again, she doesn’t know how to make that happen. That’s where Dr. Fontana comes in and that’s why she’s willing to pay him so much money for my sessions, because I guess she sees a real benefit.

“You can stay for an hour and forty-five minutes,” My mother bargains, as if fifteen minutes off of a two hour session is some huge relief.

“How about an hour and twenty minutes?” I bargain, trying to bring her down because I seriously do not want to stay at therapy that long.

“One hour and thirty minutes, and that’s as low as I’ll go,” My mom says in a firm and final tone, so I know she’s not willing to go any lower.

“Deal,” I sigh again, even though ninety minutes is almost as bad a two hour one. “I guess I’ll get headed there soon then,” I inform her then.

“Alright, and don’t forget to tell James about this morning,” She reminds me, obviously referring to the nightmare and the miniature panic attack.

“Okay mother,” I reply, before saying goodbye to her and then hanging the phone up.

“Do you have to leave?” Graham asks me then, looking at me with a curious look on his face.

“Yeah, gotta go to therapy,” I reply, standing up and pulling my car keys out of my pants pocket. “The perks of dating a mentally unstable girl,” I sarcastically say.

“You are not mentally unstable,” He laughs, shaking his head. “But come on, I’ll walk you outside to your car,” Graham offers, standing up and grabbing my hand.

So, we walk out of the house together and I let out a loud and dramatic sigh when I see that it’s snow now. I mean, it snows almost every other day or so here, but the dumb meteorologist on the news last night specifically said that it wasn’t going to snow today.

That’s exactly why I hate meteorologists, because basically, they are just overpaid fortune tellers. Thankfully though, it’s just a light, little fluff kind of snow, not the whole blizzard ordeal.

That’ll probably happen later though, but I can keep hope alive anyway. I know that I’ve said it before, how much I hate snow, but I’ll say it again, and I’ll keep saying it until winter is over and spring comes.

It really isn’t even the literal snow that I have a problem with though; it’s just all of the ice it creates on the roads. I’m paranoid enough about driving as it is without having to worry about sliding on a patch of black ice and head on into a tree or something.

“I have never met someone who gets so annoyed by snow in the wintertime,” Graham tells me matter-of-factly, opening the driver’s side door for me.

“It really is just so gross and disgusting,” I rant, getting inside of my car and pulling my seatbelt on before putting the key in the ignition.

“Whatever you say, babe,” He appeases me, leaning down and kissing me on the cheek. “Drive safe, okay?”

“I always drive safe,” I remind him, turning the car on and putting the heat on full blast.

“But there’s supposed to be a lot of ice, so drive safer than safe, yeah? And will you text me or something once you get there?” He asks.

“You’re being so very paranoid, but okay, if it will give you a peace of mind, I will text you when I make it to Dr. Fontana’s office,” I agree.

“Thank you,” Graham says with a small grin before pecking me on the lips. “Am I gonna see you later?”

“You will most definitely see me later,” I assure him with a nod, seeing Georgina and Jackson come out of the house dressed in their heavy winter apparel. “Are you gonna build a snowman with them?” I ask Graham, nodding to Jackson and their mom as they hop down off of the porch together and make their way to the yard.

“Yeah, I guess so,” He agrees, glancing over his shoulder at his mom and brother. “I think my only other alternative is to listen to Cassidy try to decide if she wants her bridesmaids’ dresses to be teal or aquamarine or turquoise, as if I know the difference between the three of them,” Graham says.

“Alrighty then, well, have fun with that,” I giggle. “I’ll be back later,” I tell him.

And with that, Graham makes his way back up the driveway and into the house, I guess to get dressed in more winter-y clothing so that he doesn’t freeze to death trying to make a snowman with his mom and brother.

He’s wearing a pair of black sweat pants (he wears those a lot outside of school) a red ¾ sleeve shirt with the little insignia of that one band he likes—Led Zeppelin—and a North Face jacket, which I know won’t keep him warm if he’s out here playing in the snow.

He would probably be wearing his letterman jacket, but I still haven’t given it back to him since the camping trip, nor do I plan on giving it back anytime soon—well, unless he asks me for it back, but he hasn’t yet.

I honk at Georgina and Jackson and they both wave at me and then I put my car in reverse and back out of the driveway.

About twenty minutes later, I pull into the parking lot of Dr. Fontana’s office building and park near the front. My mom told me to be here by 11:30 and it is only 11:20 now, so hopefully his 10:30 is already gone. I think that it would just be so incredibly awkward for me to have to stand outside of his office and wait for his patient to come out.

He’s really big on the doctor-patient confidentiality thing, so I don’t know who any of his other clients are, so if I have to stand outside his office and wait for the person to come out, I’ll obviously know. Then it’d be really bad and awkward, because what if I know them from school or something? I mean, I’m not ashamed of being in therapy, but a lot of people, for some reason, are, so yeah, it’d just be an awful time.

I get out of my car and lock the doors behind me before going inside and signing in. Then I get on the elevator (no one else gets on with me either, thankfully— I absolutely hate riding in elevators with people I don’t know) and then head up Dr. Fontana’s floor. While in the elevator, I remember to send Graham an ‘I-made-it-without-crashing’ text, so that he doesn’t worry.

When I reach his floor and the doors slide open, I get off and make my way down the corridor that leads to Dr. Fontana’s office. I notice a redheaded girl with tears streaming down her face coming from the same direction I’m going in and I realize that the thing I was just paranoid about has just happen.

I know that she’s Dr. Fontana’s patient because the other two doctors who have offices near Dr. Fontana’s are Dr. Yates and Dr. Mitchell and I’m pretty sure that the two of them don’t start their sessions until like 4:00-ish, so they’d have no reason to even be here right now.

Dr. Fontana is super dedicated to his job though, so he comes here really early in the morning—my mom says he comes in every day at alike, 6:30, which I don’t know how she knows, but she does. So, yeah, I’m sure he’s one of hers. We awkwardly walk past each other in the corridor and then I walk inside the office then.

“Good morning, Sawyer,” Dr. Fontana greets me as I close the door behind me and plop down in the chair.

“Good morning, Dr. Fontana,” I chirp in response.

“You seem like you’re in a good mood today,” He observes, grabbing his customary clipboard and ink pen.

“I’m in a great mood,” I tell him truthfully. “Actually, no—I’m in a wonderful, amazing, fantabulous mood,” I decide.

“’Wonderful, amazing, fantabulous,’” Dr. Fontana echoes, copying my words on his paper. “What’s got you in such a ‘wonderful, amazing, fantabulous’ mood?”

“Well, Flynn’s still under house arrest, so that’s great,” I state. “Knowing before that he could just show up anywhere at any time and try to freak me out or hurt me or whatever put a huge weight on my chest. Like, I literally felt like I had a full-grown adult elephant strapped to my chest 24/7, but now that I know that he can’t leave his house, I just feel like, 100% liberated,” I explain. 

“That’s great, Sawyer,” He replies. “Are you nervous about the trial? If he’s found not guilty, you don’t think that he’ll try to come after you and exact his revenge?”

“Well, he’s incredibly psychotic, so I don’t doubt he’ll try to do something to me if he’s found not guilty. So yeah, I guess I am kind of nervous for the trial,” I admit. “Tyler and Serena really know what they’re doing though and I think that they can build up a good case for me—teenage girl’s life in peril after her sexual assaulter comes back into her life and starts harassing and stalking her. That’s a great tagline, I think,” I say and I think it sounds like I’m trying to be funny or something, but I’m actually not. I really do think that that’ll smooth over well for me in court, the fact that Flynn (who I’ve got a restraining order again) has been not just stalking me, but also harassing me relentlessly for almost a month now. “But I guess if he was found not guilty, I’d go spend some time in Worcester with my granddad and my grandma for a little while, maybe. If Tom’s not there, that is.”

Before Dr. Fontana brought it up just now, I really wasn’t considering the very plausible idea that Flynn could actually be found not guilty in a court of law. There is just so, so, so much evidence against him—the Starbucks incident, the psychiatric ward incident, the Christmas Day incident; there were witness each time—and I just don’t really understand how he wouldn’t be convicted when you take that stuff into account.

On the other hand though, Flynn’s father, being the high position man that he is, could possibly pull some strings in his son’s favor. He could make it look like I was the aggressor in the entire ordeal and that maybe I was the one taunting Flynn or something.

Obviously I wasn’t, but he is a lawyer, after all, so he does have a way with words—that’s how he got the judge to sentence Flynn to a month in jail and a community service last time.

“Not that I’m doubting your lawyers’ ability,” Dr. Fontana tells me. “I’m just saying, you know, it’s a possibility. Let’s just hope that it doesn’t come to that,” He adds.

“Yeah, I guess that’s a possibility,” I nod in agreement, crossing my left leg over my right and rapidly tapping my foot on the plush brown carpeted floor, trying to keep my composure and stay in a good mood. It’s not often that I’m in as good a mood as I am right now, so I’d like to cherish it for as long as I possibly can. “The trial isn’t set to start for another like, two weeks though, so I’ll worry about it closer to then,” I decide.

“That’s the spirit,” Dr. Fontana replies in a cheerful tone. “Just think happy thoughts—everything will be fine, as long as you believe that,” He assures me. “Now, tell me, how are things with the boyfriend?”

“Things with the boyfriend are great,” I giggle. “Today’s his birthday, actually,” I add.

“Is it really?” Dr. Fontana asks and when I nod in confirmation, he says, “Have you seen him today?”

“I just left his house,” I inform him. “And I told him a few hours ago that I love him back,” I explain.

I don’t know if that’s weird or not—to tell my psychiatrist that my boyfriend and I are in love with each other before I tell my best friends—but if it is, then oh well. To be fair though, I haven’t really spoken to Piper or Sienna in the past few days because I haven’t been going to school, and I’m assuming that they have.

I mean, I’ve talked to them both via text a couple of times, but it was mostly them just asking me when I’d be back to school and if I wanted them to bring me my school work (I didn’t, because I didn’t want to do it, but they did anyway, because they’re good friends).

Then there’s Aspen, who still lives with us, but we haven’t talked much lately either. Mostly because she’s just super busy, what with school and cheer and dance and Beckett and everything like that. Surely though, all three of them will be in attendance tonight, so I’ll be able to catch up with them—that’s the plan, at least—so that’ll be pretty great.

“Really?” Dr. Fontana queries with a surprised look on his face as he looks up from the clipboard and over at me. “You decided that you’re 150% sure about that?”

“Yeah,” I reply with a simple nod. “He’s kinda wonderful to me and he doesn’t treat me like I’m some...incredibly fragile sociopath or something, which is what like, 98.9% of the people I talk to do. And that’s really nice, to be treated like a normal person, even though you have so much baggage. My mom, my brother, even my best friends—they all kind of treat me like I’m some sort of ticking time bomb. Not on purpose though, I’m sure. It’s just pretty cool to have someone who looks past all of your problems and loves you anyway—you know?” I awkwardly say with a small shrug.

“I know what you mean,” He replies. “You know, I really am proud of you, Sawyer. I’ve been seeing you for well over a year now and you’re in a much better place now than you were when you first started coming in. You’ve been through so, so much and you didn’t deserve any of what you got, but you’ve overcome it all with such clarity, which isn’t something that most people in your position could honestly say. I know that I didn’t know you pre-Flynn, but I’d like to think that you are stronger now than you’ve ever been. And I mean, there’s just been so much improvement in you, and I don’t know whether to attribute that to Graham, or your friends or whoever, but I’m so glad that you’ve made it so far.”

“Thanks, Dr. Fontana,” I respond with a small smile, staring down at the carpet. “It’s not like I did it all by myself though—if I wasn’t being forced to talk to you five hours a week, I could honestly say that I wouldn’t have made it anywhere near this far. I know that it seems like I hate therapy and that I’m super ungrateful for the fact that my mom spends so much money on these sessions, but I’m really not. Like, yeah, I’m really bad at coming in on time and I’m kind of a brat sometimes, but I really am super incredibly grateful for you being my psychiatrist,” I truthfully tell him.

I’m not quite sure why, but I guess I’m just really in touch with my feelings today or something. Like, I told my boyfriend I love him and now I’m telling Dr. Fontana, who probably thinks that I hate him, seeing as how I almost never show up on time for our sessions, that I’m actually grateful for him. I guess just knowing that I don’t have to deal with Flynn for two more weeks and that I won’t spend the rest of my life in prison for attempted murder are the reasons for my mood.

“Well, I appreciate that, Sawyer,” Dr. Fontana responds. “If you want to leave, you can—I won’t tell your mother,” He informs me.

“I can leave?” I repeat, raising my eyebrows in confusion. “As in, like, go and not come back until tomorrow?” I ask him curiously.

“Well, I’m actually going out of town today and I won’t be back until Friday, so that’s the next time you’ll see me, but yes. We’ve talked about Flynn, we’ve talked about Graham, and it seems to me like you’re doing perfectly fine, mentally and emotionally, so there’s no reason for me to hold you captive here when you could be spending time with your boyfriend on his birthday.”

“You are seriously the best ever, Dr. Fontana,” I tell him, jumping up from my seat and pulling my car keys out of my pocket.

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know, Sawyer,” He replies, but I think that he’s just joking or something. “If you need to talk though, I’ll only be a phone call away.”

“Okay,” I nod, running my fingers through my hair absentmindedly. “Where are you even going though?” I query, wondering why he’s randomly going out of town.

“Maine,” He explains. “It’s my daughter’s birthday tomorrow, so Chace and I are going to see her,” Dr. Fontana tells me.

“Is that the one that married Keegan?” I ask, remembering how when I was forcefully admitted to the psychiatric ward, Dr. Fontana compared his daughter (Emma or Ella or something like that) to me when it comes to my relationship with Graham, because he said that when she was my age, she started dating this one guy (Keegan) and talked about him like he put stars in the sky or something like that and I guess he was saying I do the same thing with Graham, which is kind of true.

“Yeah, Evie, that’s her,” He replies with a nod.

“Well, have fun—I promise I’ll be here on time on Friday,” I swear to him before making my way out of his office.

✿✿✿✿✿✿

“Are you sure this isn’t too short, Pipes? Because I feel like this is too short,” I say to my best friend a few hours ago, standing in her room, looking in her mirror.

“It isn’t too short, Sawyer,” Pipes replies in the negative as she applies a coat of mascara to her long lashes. “You look hot and Graham will think so too,” She adds.

“But it’s like forty-five degrees outside—I’m gonna get hypothermia,” I complain, spinning around in front of the full-length mirror, looking at the back of the dress.

“I thought that you said the party was inside? Does Graham not have heating in his beach house? Because that would be so incredibly dumb,” She says in response.

“I mean, he does—at least, that’s what Halden told me, but still,” I sigh, deciding then that the dress, although short, is still pretty beautiful, so I’m going to wear it.

It’s a sleeveless, black dress with a sweetheart neckline and a shimmering gold crossover design over the bodice of it. It isn’t mine—I wouldn’t dare buy something so…daring and live to tell the story. Beckett would kill me first. That or he’d force me to return it or something. He’s super overprotective and stupid and annoying and bothersome, but he’s my big brother and I do love him oh so much for trying to keep me safe.

Anyway, the dress is Piper’s and she insisted on letting me borrow it for the night so that I could “wow Graham” at the party tonight. So, yeah, that was the other part of the surprise that I had for him, aside from bringing Georgina back home—throwing him a party, I mean.

As you know, I absolutely hate parties with all of me, but Graham loves partying—he’s just such a people person—so I figured why not? I know that Flynn won’t be there because of the whole house arrest thing and since pretty much everyone at the party knows that Graham and I are together, I’m slightly positive that none of the guys will try to harass me or something.

I’m also wearing a pair of golden hibiscus heels and even though they’re pretty high, they’re super cute and I love them. They actually are mine, but I never really wear them because as I’m sure you have noticed, I don’t have much of a social life, so I don’t really go anywhere, especially not anywhere that would require me to wear such pretty heels. It’s kind of a special occasion though, so I figured I bring them out of their resting place in the back of my closet.

I’ve got on a pair of black diamond and agate stud earrings (yet another present from my granddad and grandma from Christmas past) and three brass bangle bracelets on my wrists that match the color of the shoes.

My hair is straightened and pull back into a ponytail, mostly because I’m lazy and didn’t feel like doing anything too elaborate to it, so I just put it in a ponytail. As usual, I’m not wearing much make-up at all—just some mascara, eye shadow, eye liner and concealer.

Usually whenever there’s a party, the girls and I will get ready to go to it together at my house, but not this time. Piper and I are getting ready together, but we’re at her house instead of mine, because Beckett’s at my house and I don’t need him trying to regulate what I wear.

Sienna and Aspen got ready together at Sienna’s house and now they’re in Beverly, at Graham’s beach house with Halden, getting ready because people are probably gonna start arriving there pretty soon, I think.

Today is Tuesday, which isn’t really the greatest day to throw a birthday party, because of the whole school tomorrow thing, but the snow gods have looked down on me, I suppose. Like I said before, it was snowing earlier in the day and it’s been going on nonstop since then.

In fact, it’s still snowing now and apparently, there is a lot of ice accumulation on the roads, and the school district has decided to close school tomorrow, which is so wonderful and amazing, because that really does not happen ever. So, it’ll be slightly dangerous to drive on the roads tonight, but we’ll be careful and hopefully so will everyone else, so all should go pretty well.

“You really are so paranoid for no reason, Sawyer,” Piper laughs, stepping away from vanity and putting her mascara away, having finished with her make-up. “Okay, so I think we’re all ready to go now, right?” She asks me then, grabbing her little clutch purse, along with her car keys.

“I think so,” I nod in agreement, grabbing my black North Face jacket from her bed and slipping it on. It won’t do much to keep my legs warm, but it’ll keep the upper half of me warm, so that’s good. “So, is Jason coming with us?” I ask her curiously as we leave her room and head down the stairs together.

Like I said, I haven’t talked to any of my friends that much these past few days, so I have no idea what the status is with her and her boyfriend. They’re together one day, they’re not together the next day, they love each other Monday and can’t stand each other Tuesday, so there’s really no telling.

I think that they were together last time I asked though, so hopefully they still are. Jason can be pretty stupid sometimes and pretty ignorant when it comes to his girlfriend’s feelings, but he is a good boyfriend, at least, I think he is, and the two of them are super cute, so hopefully they’re still a thing.

“Yep,” Piper confirms with a nod and a giddy grin. “He just texted me and said he’s outside,” She explains as we reach the living room.

“So, things are good with you two?” I ask for clarification with a small smile. I obviously don’t like when they fight because when they fight, Piper gets really sad.

“Things are pretty good with us,” She nods. “I mean, he’s back home in Tewksbury, but he still comes to town almost every day, so that’s really good,” Piper states.

“Well, that’s good. You guys are too cute and you’ve invested way too much time into this relationship to just break up,” I tell her as we head towards the door.

“I know, right? He’s determined to go to college in Australia though, so after senior year, we’ll probably break up, but hopefully not,” She replies with a shrug. “Hey, Joe, make sure you feed Ally and Roberto for me,” Piper says to her younger brother (he’s fifteen), who’s sitting on the couch, making out with his new girlfriend—Katelynn, I think her is her name. Ally and Roberto are her guinea pigs, by the way, and she's had them since she was eight and she loves them to death.

Joe doesn’t pull away from his girlfriend’s face to reply to his sister’s request, but I’m a tad bit grossed out by seeing them shove their tongues down each other’s throats and I assume Piper is too, because we just walk out of the house then and to Jason’s idling Hummer.

“Hey gorgeous,” Jason greets Piper as she climbs into the passenger seat of his Hummer and I get into the backseat.

“Hey handsome,” Piper replies with a giggle, leaning over and kissing him lightly on the lips.

When they’re not fighting (which isn’t that often, to be completely honest) they seriously are the cutest couple there is.

“Hey Sawyer,” Jason greets, glancing up at me in the rearview mirror and sending me a friendly smile before starting his car and carefully cruising down the road.

“Hi Jason,” I respond, pulling my phone out and sending Sienna a quick text, making sure that everything is ready for the party.

She says that it is and that people are starting to arrive, which is a good thing, because it’s already 9 o’clock. Graham is still completely out of the loop about his birthday party though—at least, he was when I last saw him, which was about two hours ago, when I left his place—so that’s good.

The only way he could know about the party is if our loud mouthed friend, Sienna, blabbed about it to him, but I’m really hoping that she didn’t, because that’d kind of suck.

About forty-five minutes later, Jason pulls into the driveway of Graham’s beach house and turns the car off. That’s the good thing about throwing a party or being close to the person that’s throwing it—you’re guaranteed a parking spot.

We get out of the car then and Jason is immediately spotted by two of his friends that I guess used to play on the soccer team with him at Jamestown, before he transferred to his Tewksbury school. They immediately want to whisk him away to go and play beer pong or something like that and Piper says that she doesn’t mind if he goes, so he does, after kissing her and saying that he’ll see her later.

“So, is Graham here yet?” Piper wonders as we walk through the front doors of the beach house and I slip my North Face off, putting it up on the coat rack.

“I don’t think so,” I deny, shaking my head, straining my voice just a tad bit because the music in here is just so ridiculous and loud—I don’t know who the DJ is, but if I suffer from hearing loss tonight, I know who I’ll be sending my medical bills to. Anyway though, the song that’s playing right now is Maps by Maroon 5 and I do happen to love Adam Levine, so I guess the fact that it’s blaring loud enough for people to hear in Andover, it’s okay. “Some of his Volcom friends are supposed to be bringing him here right now though,” I explain and as if on cue or something, the door swings open behind us and just after that, I feel a pair of arms wrapping around my waist from behind and a pair of lips kissing the skin just below my ear.

“Hey girlfriend,” Graham says with his arms still wrapped around me.

“Hi boyfriend,” I giggle, turning around in his arms and pressing my lips to his for a small kiss because I’m really not into the whole PDA thing.

“Happy birthday, Graham,” Piper gleefully interjects after Graham and I pull away from each other. “And I’m gonna go find Aspen and Sienna, so I’ll see you later, S,” She says to me before walking off in the direction of the kitchen, which is most likely where Aspen is pigging out at. Like I said before, Aspen and I are kind of the greedy pigs of the friendship and we can almost always be found eating.

“You look amazing,” Graham tells me after introducing me to his Volcom friends, Mitchell and Lucas, who proceed to head out to the backyard.

“Thanks,” I chuckle, glancing at what he’s wearing—a pair of dark wash blue jeans, a light blue button up shirt with 3/4th length sleeves, and a pair of Vans. “You also look amazing,” I truthfully tell him with a small blush, because I’m just so terribly awkward and bad at giving out compliments.

“Thanks,” He replies with a grin before interlacing our fingers. “Was this all you?” He wonders, gesturing to all the people and the dancing and music and all that.

“Well, not all me,” I deny, shaking my head. “Halden helped too and so did Sienna and Aspen, a little bit,” I explain. “I hope you’re in a party mood,” I add chirpily.

“I’m always in a party mood,” Graham informs me matter-of-factly. “Dance with me?” He asks hopefully, offering me his hand as Maps goes off and a new song starts. I don’t know what this one, but it sounds like some kind of rock song, so I’m sure Graham must know it.

“Absolutely not—I’m a terrible dancer,” I tell him, which is true. I mean, I thought he saw how awful a dancer I actually am at the Winter Formal, but I guess not.

“You are not an awful dancer,” He assures me with a laughs. “Besides, it’s my birthday—please?” Graham asks, pulling one of the best puppy dog face I’ve seen.

“Only because it’s your birthday,” I reply, deciding that if I’m going to embarrass myself, it should be for a good cause and I think his birthday is a good cause.

“You’re the best,” Graham tells me with a wide grin and then I let him pull me onto the “dance floor” which is just the living room with the furniture pushed back.

“Tell me something I don’t know, Cambridge,” I jokingly say to him as he drops my hand and then wraps his arms around my waist again, pulling me close to him.

So, we dance for a while and it’s not too terrible—I manage not to step on his feet even once, which is a success, in my book. Then after we dance, we go into the backyard and everyone sings Happy Birthday to him and we cut the cake.

The cake that I made last night was just because I wanted to make him one, but I got a real one from a cake shop place made and it’s super cool and it has five layers, so it’s more than enough to give at least one piece to everyone at the party who wants one.

Once the cake is cut, there’s more dancing, and Graham plays beer pong with his friends—he doesn’t actually drink though, I don’t think. He says that he doesn’t drink at all because of the whole alcoholic father thing, so I’m assuming tonight is no different for him.

While he’s playing beer pong though, I talk to my friends and catch up with them and whatnot. After he’s finally done with beer pong though, we go up to his bedroom and just hang out for a little while. It’s already almost 12 o’clock, so I’m supposed to be home in an hour, but I already know that that’s not going to happen, so hopefully my mom (or Beckett) aren’t too upset by me skipping curfew.

“Are you having fun?” I ask Graham, glancing up at him from where my head is resting on his chest. Obviously, we’re lying down in his bed, but we’re just talking.

“I don’t think I’ve had this much fun since I turned seventeen,” Graham chuckles and kisses the top of my head. “I can’t believe you did all of this for me. My mom and the cake and the party and everything,” He says. “You’re kinda really wonderful, you know, right?”

“Well, you’re kinda really wonderful too,” I tell him. “And I’m just glad you’re having fun—you deserve it.”

“So, did your mom agree to let you stay out past curfew or something?” He randomly asks, changing the subject.

“No, but I’m probably just going to tell her that the roads were too icy and I didn’t feel safe driving on them or something,” I shrug.

“Does that mean you’re going to spend the night here?” He asks curiously.

“Do you want me to spend the night here?” I ask him with a small chuckle.

“I want you to spend the night here,” Graham confirms and just like always, there’s no hesitation from him. “Only if you want to though,” He adds.

“I want to,” I assure him. “We’re going to have to go back downstairs pretty soon though, before people start thinking that we’re doing dirty stuff,” I state.

“Okay,” Graham laughs, sitting up in his bed. “Are you ready to go back down there right now?"

“Not right this second, no,” I reply, shaking my head and sitting up so that I’m right beside him. “I think that we should make out a little bit first,” I inform him

“Well, I obviously have no objections to that,” Graham says before putting his lips to mine and placing one of his hands on my waist and the other on my cheek.

Author's Note: Hello loves! So, I'm here at the library and although I did plan on posting this chapter earlier, I can't come to the library every single day to write. I'm coming as often as possible though, so to those of you who are understanding and accepting the situation, you're amazing and I love you <3

1. This chapter is dedicated to SophisticatedCookies because I loved her comment on the last chapter the most. The person who leaves the comment I love the most on this chapter gets the next chapter dedicated tot hem, so don't forget that (:

2. Notice the picture- Sawyer's outfit to Graham's party. Speaking of, a lot of you have been asking me where I make the outfits for Sawyer and I'll just say here that I make them on Polyvore. My username there is affectionate so if you want to follow me on there, you can, and you'll probably see a bunch of the outfits earlier, because I usually post them there before I post them on here, so yeah, feel free to follow me there. Also, notice the song- Birthday by Katy Perry, which I thought was a good song for this chapter for obvious reasons.

3. Thoughts on this chapter? Thoughts on any of the characters?

4. From some of the comments I got last chapter, I think a few of you are thinking that the story is nearly over, but I'll just tell you now that it's not. I mean, it's already hit the half-way mark, but there will still be quite a few chapters left. Also, when it's almost over, I'll tell you guys in an author's note or something, so it won't be super abrupt or anything.