Ok, so yay that I have time today to post another chapter. *happy dance*
Chapter 6
Woooo
“Ok shrink, examine me.” Joe lay down on the small sofa, cushioning his head with one arm and propping his feet up on the opposing armrest.
“You know, you don’t have to lie down.”
“But isn’t that what you people do? I come in, lie down and talk about my childhood. Then you tell me it’s all because of my mother.”
“Is that what you think?”
“That’s what they do in the movies.” He finally sat up and swung his feet over so they were now flat on the floor.
“No, I mean, do you really think your mother is the cause of all your problems?”
“No.” He paused. “This is dumb.”
“Why?” She looked up from her notebook.
“You just sit there, waiting for me to speak. Just like every other girl in the world.” He rolled his eyes and pulled one of the throw pillows into his lap. He began to fiddle with the bright orange fringe of the pillow.
“What would you like me to do?” He shrugged and looked down at the pillow. “What do you think of all the girls who just wait for you to speak?”
“They’re lame.” He scoffed, tossing the pillow back on the couch beside him.
“Why?”
“Because instead of going out and living their own lives, they are just so fascinated with me. My brothers too, but mostly me. Like I’m irresistible to women.” Abbey had to quickly look down at her notebook to hide the fact that she was rolling her eyes at him.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Sometimes.” He finally looked back up at her, a co.cky smile playing on his lips.
“What’s she like?”
“She’s older than me. Which is totally hot, by the way.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it.” She looked back at him. “Why is she your ‘sometimes’ girlfriend?”
“I don’t see her all the time. And it wouldn’t be fair for us to be tied to each other all the time.”
“Why not?” Joe sighed dramatically, as if bored by her questions.
“I’m 19 years old. Too young to be tied down to any one female.” Again, Abbey had to quickly turn her head to avoid him catching her rolling her eyes.
“So, when you’re with her, she’s your girlfriend?” His only reply was a curt nod. “What about when you’re not with her?”
“I do what I want.” He said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Is our hour up yet?”
“Sorry if I’m boring you, Joe. Would you like to talk about something else?”
“Not really.” He shifted himself so he was again lying on the couch. “I’d rather sleep.”
“Well, I can’t make you talk. I just thought maybe you’d like to talk about what’s going on with your family.” Suddenly, he sat up and leaned forward, staring into her eyes, his resentment evident.
“Don’t act like you know what’s going on with me or my family. No one knows what it’s like being me. You may have mom and Frankie convinced that you can fix us, but you can’t. So don’t even bother trying.”
“I understand that I don’t know what its like to be Joe Jonas. Why don’t you tell me what it’s like, so maybe I can help? And I’m not here to ‘fix’ anything. I’m here to help get the Jonas family back to being functional.”
“I just fuc.king told you that you can’t.”
“Look, you’re a bright kid, so let me lay it out for you. Your mother came to me because she feels her family is falling apart. And in my professional opinion, I think it is. Now, if there is any part of you that actually cares about your family, I would think you would do whatever it takes to mend the problems.” He huffed out a sigh, and leaned back, sinking into the couch.
“Fine.” Although he agreed, he said nothing more. Abbey bit her lip in frustration, unsure of how to reach the boy sitting across from her.
“Joe?” She prodded.
“Would it make things easier if I promised to get along with my brothers?” He gave an overly dramatic sigh.
“That would certainly be a start. I know you don’t want to be here, but you are. And as long as you’re here, what would be so terrible about talking to me?” She caught him glancing at the clock, as if willing the minute hand to move faster.
“We are talking.” He said, looking back at her. “You speak, and then I speak. Words come out of our mouths to form a conversation.”
“It might help if we actually had a topic of said conversation.”
“We’re talking about talking.”
“Joe…” Her tone was meant as a cue to get back to the task of discovering the root of his behavior, but her clock chose that moment to chime.
“Later, doc.” If Abbey’s life had been a cartoon, Joe most certainly would have left a trail of smoke and dust, with how fast he left her office.
