-insert dramatic title here-

[American_Flyleaf_Girl]

-insert no post warning here-

Private roleplay between myself and someone who is OBVIOUSLY not you.
X3

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The Troubled Teen
The day had started out so normal for Jeremy Grant. Normal annoying alarm clock wake-up. Normal bland off-brand breakfast cereal and toast. Normal disagreements with his parents. Then on to the bus. Normal bus ride. Quiet, the city bus flooded with the stares of your usual morning creepers wearing the half-moth-eaten and staiend remnants of clothing and smartly dressed men and women off to work. The usual.

Of course, school liked to throws him curveballs. Most of them bearing the name of either joe Rigby or Jessica Dunhan, his most specific enemies at St. Andreas High School. It was a big school with a lot of people, and a good percentage of them knew of, had seen, and/or disliked him, but those two were the main attractions. Apparently today they were both feeling particularly nasty in regards to him, though as Juniors he expected higher class stuff than name calling and hallway shoves. He took it in stride like had to ninety percent of the time. He could take the words. f*****t. Emo. Creeper. Spiderman [which in all actuality was more of a compliment in his opinion]. He could even handle the occasional trip in the hall or tossed balled-up piece of paper.

But then he'd felt a book smack him across the back of the head at speeds enough to causde him pain, and all hell broke loose for a good six minutes before he and Joe Rigby were getting hauled off to the principal's office, Rigby bearing a growing black eye with pride and he himself a bloody nose. The school security guard, Ramone, practically threw the two seventeen-year-olds into the main office to wait, separate rooms to ward off the chances of another scuffle and more blood on the floor. Parents were called. The school counselor had been notified and it was called to the two teen's attentions that they'd be having individual sessions with said counselor to discuss 'the unfortunate events as of late' to put it in the words of the secretary.

His last couple of years at St. Andreas weren't his favorite out of the past 17. He was quiet and kept to himself, something 'unholy and primitive' in the eyes of his teachers who constantly had tried to force him into making friends. Most of the time, the other students were pleased that he was such a hermit. Underneath the quiet, however, was a temper that had overturned a desk or two and brought some bruises to surface in the past, like today. He had very good reasons for liking his solitude, mainly the fact that whenever he attempted to start up conversation with anyone intelligent, they either told him to go jump off of a bridge, or they turned out to be aggravating morons. He was judgemental, yes. But it had saved him some headache and heartache, so it had its perks.

Of course, sitting in front of the counseling office holding a handful of tissues to his face wasn't one of them. His head was still buzzing from the slap from the book, and he tasted metal in his mouth, wishing he could get this meeting thing through with and get some water or something to rinse his mouth out. His parents would be just elated to find he'd gotten into another fight, and that he'd actually done damage. Another day, another bill for them to pay in insurance. Great.

The clock on the wall clicked away in a steady tempo, and he glared at it, lowering the bloodied tissue then quickly replacing it as he dripped onto his jeans. His gray T-shirt was already splotched here and there, though the red and black hoodie had managed to avoid getting stained. Counselor, counselor, where art thou oh counselor. 'Cuz I'd really like to not miss English today.

[.~[Misty.Muffin]~.]

ｔｈｅ Ｐ Ｒ Ｏ Ｔ Ｅ Ｃ Ｔ Ｉ Ｖ Ｅ ｃｏｕｎｓｅｌｏｒ

Another fight? Well well, wasn't this fantastic. His already full schedule was being filled... longer. Not only was he going to be staying late for a third day in a row, but it was with new students. He, very obviously, knew at least all of the faces of the students in the school, but not quite the names. Once Jeremy Grant and Joe Rigby, the names of the students in said fight that had happened around ten minutes ago, came in his office and walked out he would be able to put the name to the face. Oh yes, they would never be able to escape his watch now. To ensure they were behaved and stuff like this could be avoided, he would be keeping an eye on their grades and extracurricular activities until the end of their Senior year. Both were Juniors so it was easy enough to keep them both under careful eye. He would just instruct Ramone to keep an eye on the two and see they stayed away from each other.

Josh sighed lightly and ran his hands through his dark brown hair. Though he was the school counselor... he could easily pass for a student. A sophomore, probably. He was only twenty two after all and had been the counselor at the school for little over a year. It was his second year and already he had organized every students file and proven to be a much better employee than most of the older ones. He was a prize to be one, or so they had told him. He just wanted to help kids... and he was OCD. It had nothing to do with being a suck up, it just bothered him when things were disorganized. That had been, defiantly, the only reason he had graduated high school at such an early age, being sixteen. His parents, in their cockyness, liked to call him a 'young genius' and had wanted him to pursue the cliche job of being a doctor... he hadn't gone for that. When he announced he was going to be a high school counselor... well, they had very obviously thrown a fit.

It had taken a bit of convincing, but now here he was. Sitting in his own over sized office at St. Andreas High School after six years of schooling. Though, for a school that started with 'saint', there sure was a lot of violence. More than he had ever had at his high school. Then again... he'd been forced into a private school with private tutors. Genius? No. Just a kid who wasn't allowed to play in the mud growing up.

After glancing over both profiles, taking his time to hopefully give the two students a chance to relax, the man made his decision. He adjusted his tie, for the millionth time of the day, before heading to the door. He opened it and smiled seeing the boy he had wanted to talk to anyways. "Hello, Jeremy." he said and stepped aside so the boy could step into his office. "Why don't you just step inside here and wait, hm? It's much more comfortable." There was, to his insistence after all, many different kinds of chairs and sitting places. It was quite interesting to see who sat where. Josh was just a bit of a psycho-analyzer. It was fun. There was a leach chair and a matching couch, a stool, what looked like a tall white wooden chair, and a rocking chair. Along with various pillows and tables all with boxes of tissues. It was ridiculous with the amount of crying students he saw on a weekly basis so kept them... well, everywhere in his office. "Just behind my desk is a door to a bathroom. Feel free to clean yourself up a bit more. I'll be right back." He smiled warmly at... who was probably a confused student. He looked to young to be giving them orders after all.

The male waited for Jeremy to step into the room before closing the door behind him and heading into the next room where Joe was. "Hello, Joe." he said, giving the student with a rather nasty black eye the same warm smile. It was one students were used to seeing on his face, though... actually, he had seen and talked to this student a few times in the past. Why he hadn't remembered that was... surprising. "Ramone is going to take you to an empty classroom until school it out when your parents can pick you up. We'll be talking later in the week. Sometime during your suspension. You know, so you won't be to bored waiting around at home." He chuckled slightly before turning and heading back toward the door of his office.

It was his favorite punishment. Most students saw suspension as a 'good thing'. To stop that little liking, Josh had made it mandatory for students who were on suspension to meet with him every day of said suspension, talk, then they had to sit in his office and do homework. Since there were two students here, they would just switch out every two hours until the day was over. When they weren't in the office Ramone, or the other security guard Robert, was babysitting them in an empty classroom. Suspension was no longer a fun thing.

"Make sure that Mr.Rigby is productive. His mother has been informed when he's to be here tomorrow." he told to the guard with a pleasant smile as he headed into his office. His office, though he had been in it for over a year, was very impersonal. There were no photo's of friends, no tacky mugs, no lame family portraits, and most defiantly no oddly colored things. The room itself was in very earthy tones. Browns and blues with some green. It was a calming environment, or so all of his color psychology classes had told him. It seemed to work and people opened up much faster than when the room had been reds and oranges. Strange, but it was true. Humming slightly, Josh pushed the door to his office open and smiled.

"So, are we ready?"

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[American_Flyleaf_Girl]

<-< The Troubled Teen >->
The clock continued to tick, tick, tick away, and Jeremy finally felt the flow of blood begin to cease. He tentatively removed the tissue and wiped a hand on his jeans -- he'd wash it out later. Glancing up, he heard footsteps, or rather, felt them. A low, steady, precise thumping. Measured steps. Firm and organized, likely reflecting their owner.

The door opened, and seemingly another student opened the door -- had the counselor been seeing someone else prior to this incident? No, no, he corrected himself. This was the counselor, brand new, fresh out of college. He had heard about him before, had seen him around. They said he'd graduated highschool at the ripe young age of 16 and gone straight into an education that lead him to psychology, and essentially this school. Oh, how much fun he would have here, Jeremy thought. He was addressed first and it took him a moment to pull himself from the depths of his zoning out and back into reality, standing and grabbing his bag as he headed into the office. He didn't look up or respond or even address the older male, but strode on through the doorway into the room. The door shut with a firm click behind him and he glanced back, lowering the bloody napkin.

The office was unreasonably neat, pristine. Godly, almost. A variety of strategically-placed chairs sat in various parts of the neat room -- a relaxing chair and couch, stool, white high-backed chair, rocking chair, along with various others seats placed around, and a copious amount of tissue boxes. He supposed it made sense considering the young man's profession. He set his bag down and looked around, spotting the door to the bathroom and walking over towards it. He slipped inside, locked it. Or rather, attempted to lock it. He guessed that was because of the man's profession that it didn't actually have a lock. He furrowed his brow. He liked locks. However, in this situation, he would have to deal without one. He washed up, scrubbing dried blood from underneath his nails and spot-cleaning his stained jeans and shirt as best he could, rinsing off his face. He dried off with a paper towel stuffed it into a neatly placed corner trash bin, running a hand through his hair to tidy it up the smallest fraction.

Now to pick a seat. He guessed this was the counselor's way of picking up small details of his students' personalities, depending on where they sat. The lounge chair or the couch, comfortable and/or lazy, perhaps. The stool, guilty or perhaps also relaxed, depending on how one sat upon it. the chair, a nuetral mixture of unease and calm emotions. the rest of the scattered seats were all of varying degrees that he wasn't too keen to delve into. The room itself was a calming array of soothign hues -- grays, blues, and greens. Earthy tones. It was a pleasant change of pace from so many other counselors he'd seen that assumed yellows and bright blues and reds were childish and therefore soothing.

What seat to choose, what seat to choose.

Finally, Jeremy reached out for a small square ottoman and pulled it to the center of the room, plunking down on it and sitting leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, fingertips touching and facing downwards. He heard the footsteps again and glanced towards the door, eyes affixed on the frame as the counselor -- Joseph? Joe? Josh. Josh, that was what the neat silver nameplate on his desk stated -- reappeared.

" So, are we ready? "

Jeremy didn't respond until the man had returned to his seat, sighing and shakign his had before he stood, brushing the front of his hoodie straight and looking up. " Ready for the usual? Yeah. Here, let me begin. " He coughed into a fist and and clapped his hands together, then pointed in a scolding manner towards the now-empty ottoman.

" Now, young man, this is an institution of a higher degree of learning, not some hooligan public school for petty street gang-bangers and future McDonald's grease trap-cleaners. Violence is never the answer, regardless of the question being asked of you. St. Andreas was founded by some of the most intelligent men in history and continues to bring into the adult world only the finest class of students, and unless you are willing to participate in such an immense act of the full use of available human knowledge, then we are going to have a problem with you, " he rambled on, pacing back and forth with accompanying gestures. He ended the imaginary scolding with a severe expression, turning to face the counselor. He held up a hand in pause.

" And, scene. The family counselor, " he announced. He face the ottoman once more. " Now, Jeremy, I know you've always been a terribly miserable child, but I'm here to make it all better. Now I want you to tell me what these look like, and we're going to talk about your choices. Now, see this picture? What does this look like to you? "

He turned again. " And, scene. The previous school counselor. " He turned again, back straight as a board, face grim. " Mr. Grant, I would appreciate an inkling of respect from within the depths of your hollow soul every now and again. I fully and completely understand the fact that you are beneath such a show of consideration for another human being aside from yourself, but the effort would be highly recommended if you wish to remain at St. Andreas. You don't, say you? Well, then. We'll just call your parents up, and have them escort you to the much more pleasantly violent public school down the block, where every day of your school life from now on will be filled with the miserable wails of your intelligence slowly rotting away into nothingness as you are subjected to backstop initiational beatings and poor lesson planning of average class teachers. "

With the final word, he turned on his heel and plunked back down on the ottoman, elbows on his knees again. He lifted a hand and waved it. " G'ahead, I'm done. Just needed to get that out into the air before we got too deep into this little meeting, " he said with a flat expression, eyes staring at the counselor, this Josh man.

[.~[Misty.Muffin]~.]

ｔｈｅ Ｐ Ｒ Ｏ Ｔ Ｅ Ｃ Ｔ Ｉ Ｖ Ｅ ｃｏｕｎｓｅｌｏｒ

After stepping into the office, Josh made his way around his desk and... well, wasn't even sitting before the boy began to rant. The counselor blinked slightly as he sat and listened. Ah... so he was familiar with the whole 'talking about your feelings' issue? The man smiled and leaned back into the chair as the student talked. From his rant... well, he was quite used to seeing people of his profession, but none like him. One had actually tried using ink blotches? Well, wasn't that interesting. He hadn't heard of that technique being used in year. He himself didn't ever use it let alone thinking about it. It was better to just talk to the student and help them relax.

He was actually a bit surprised how.. well done some of his imitations were. The one of the schools counselor before him made the older male chuckle. It was a very good impression as a matter of fact. The smiled stayed on Josh's face as he watched the student rant more, then sit and wave him on to speak. That was NOT how he pictured this meeting to begin, and he had never had a meeting start like that... but he liked it. It was something new and most defiantly interesting.

"What a pleasant way to start." he said, unable to hold back another laugh. He felt a bit bad for laughing at the scene he had just witnessed, but it had been very entertaining. He wondered if Jeremy had considered a career in acting? "I was actually going to start by offering you a drink, legally I can't offer anything stronger than coffee which is sad, but I think I like your way of beginning much more." Josh stood up and walked over to the mini fridge and grabbed a water for himself. It was stocked with water, soda of different kinds, energy drinks, and a few snacks. On the counter next to it was a coffee maker that he tended to use in the morning What was in the mini fridge he kept for students. "Feel free to help yourself any time." he said before retuning to his desk and sitting.

Josh placed the water onto his desk and looked again to Jeremy, smiling pleasantly.

"I'm not here to threaten you as the other counselors did, Jeremy. I'm not going to tell you you're going to be sent to the public school down the road to 'rot' and I most certainly am not going to insult you. You are here, and the point of meeting with me today, is to find out what I can do to make your life easier in school. Other than being acknowledged of your suspension, your parents will not be involved in these meetings unless you request it. Nothing you tell me will leave this room. Now, I know that it's likely all of your counselors have said that in the past, but the contract I have with the school says that, by law, without your written permission I can not repeat anything to anyone or I will go to prison."

That was probably said in to pleasant of a voice, but it was true. He was a licensed counselor and privacy was taken very seriously. Not only by him, but by the teachers who had taught him. Even under law, should Jeremy ever go to court and heaven forbid that to ever happen, he could say nothing... and he would not speak. They could not hold him in contempt because of his own contracts. Most people thought that was awful rotten, but Josh took it very seriously.

"Now that that annoying little introduction is done, let me introduce myself to you since the last time we met was probably Freshman Orientation. My name is Joshua Gagnon. Call me Josh, Joshua, or whatever you prefer. I'm sure you've seen me around campus before, or if you haven't now you know where to find me and will probably notice me walking the halls at lunch and in between classes." The male paused and chuckled lightly. Whenever he had a student come into his office the next time they returned he was accused of following them. That was, obviously, not true. He just went easily unnoticed in the hall ways and during lunch since he looked like a student. It was quite amusing when he was accused though.

Josh leaned back into his chair and looked at Jeremy for a moment. "So, tell me what started the fight." The introductions were over. Jeremy had started the conversation and gave his opinion on the past counselors, then Josh had given a quick run down. His normal 'you can trust me' speech which never worked the first time until something happened when he kept his word, then his own introduction which was quicker. If it came to it sometimes he spent entire sessions talking about himself. Students felt better and talked more if they were comfortable with him. That happened when they knew more about him so he pretty much had that speech memorized to, though sometimes students would surprise him and ask questions no one else had before. So far, in not even the first five minutes, Jeremy had already surprised him. He was going to be an interesting one.

As for his first speech, the 'you can trust me' one... well, students never did take that seriously. Not at first. He'd had students roll their eyes, laugh, stare, mumble, and scream at him at it before. It wasn't until his first year of being at the school, just near the end of the year, when he'd been punched by a parent did his usual students trust him more. The parent had wanted to know a piece of information that he knew the counselor knew about and wanted to know. When he was denied the piece of information, he lost his temper and punched Josh in the face. The amusing part of the entire thing that it was something he didn't even know at first but was later told in a session. He wasn't sure, however, how many students actually knew it was him who was hit. Ramone had done a good job of convincing everyone it was just two students that got into a fight. Ah well.

Brushing some hair from his face, the male leaned forward and grabbed his water before focusing back onto the student. Whatever it was that was going on in Jeremy's head, Josh was going to do whatever it took to help him. Whatever he was going through or having problems with... he was going to fix. Or, at least, try to fix it. There were few times when he couldn't help, but he would do something.

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[American_Flyleaf_Girl]

<-< The Troubled Teen >->


Jeremy watched the man silently for a moment, and his eyes wandered between him and the open mini-fridge. It was a nice touch, a small addition to make the room seem more teen-friendly, more human. It was actually a perfect fit, to be honest, but the teenager merely watched him without rising from his seat. He didn't like soda, didn't drink juice purely for the ungodly amount of preservatives. Milk, water. But when the man mentioned coffee, he flicked his eyes over to the coffeemaker and briefly resisted the urge to ask if he could start a pot. But no, coffee would make him jittery, and that would irritate him even more unless he had something to do. It helped calm his nerves at first, but once the caffiene kicked in he would have to find something to occupy his hands or his brainn or both in order to release the pent up energy.

Something else he noticed after Gragnon's initial statement, or statements he supposed, was the man's reaction. He laughed, was amused by his ranting antics. That hadn't ever happened to him before, and he couldn't decipher whether or not he was pleased by that. On one hand, no one had ever responded with anything other than complete and utter confusion, which sent the message that though he couldn't have even been in his late twenties this character that sat opposite him was something of a genius, not surprisingly, and the fact that he understood his overall take on the system of counseling and psychiatry only heightened that idea. On the other, he'd laughed, joked around with him, and gone on a first name basis within ten minutes of Jeremy legitimately meeting him. That risked the idea that he didn't take his opinion seriously, and he could turn out simply to be a complete douchebag.

Of course, his 'promise of silence' was also reassuring. Barely. His parents would find out one way or another, whether they complained their eyeballs out or some other form of parenting evil, but the idea that Gragnon wouldn't be willingly passing on conversations was.... interesting, and not to mention a shift from the old. Before now, the former school counselor could easily be connived into passing along info if his parents acted concerned enough.

He couldn't place this man. He was complex, complicated. Strange. Like he was himself. It was odd to think of knowing someone who may be sitting on his level, but he wiped that thought away.

Well, well, time will tell, won't it, Mr. Gagnon?

He returned to the current scene about a half a second after Josh, Mr. Gagnon, whatever his name was had finished asking about the fight. Or rather directing him to explain. He could take two paths here -- burst into a powerful, emotional rant about his life. Or he could just tell it bluntly as it was. He mentally ticked the box before option 2.

" Guy calls me a f**, I'll take it. Guy calls me a creep and a goth, I'll take that too. Guy beats me over the head with an AP History textbook, I'm going to introduce him to my fist and kick him in the shins until he bleeds. That's just how it works, end of story, " he shrugged vaguely. The emotional outburst could be saved. " I don't like him, he doesn't like me, and now we have a week to avoid each other. I'm a happy camper just as I am. "

He tilted his head to the side a bit. " I remember you from freshman orientation. Nobody believed you were actually a counselor, rather than a senior. Not much talk about you. Everyone's too focused on who had sex with who and the latest rap singles to bother thinking about the person they gripe about their issues to. I take it by now you've gotten it figured out that I don't like people, right? Good grief, I really hope you have. Because, " he leaned forward. " I really, really don't like people. You'll see me again if that idiot touches me again, and the next time it happens, he will[/] be going to the hospital. I mean, I don't care what he says to me, but if he touches me I'll have to kick his a** again, and as fun as it is it does get repetitive. "

[.~[Misty.Muffin]~.]

ｔｈｅ Ｐ Ｒ Ｏ Ｔ Ｅ Ｃ Ｔ Ｉ Ｖ Ｅ ｃｏｕｎｓｅｌｏｒ

Josh waited patiently for the boy to begin to speak and once he did, he listened. There was no note taking. No recordings. Nothing other than what Josh would remember in his head from what the student would tell him. It was rather rude to be writing why someone was speaking, after all. Especially when often what they were telling him was personal and sometimes something they didn't tell others. He also didn't like the paper trails, especially since if in the future someday there was a warrant to search through his office or his home they would be find the notes and take them for whatever reason they needed them. They could not make him speak, but they could go through his things and find what he wrote down. So he took the chance of forgetting and wrote nothing but useless information down on paper or in his computer. Or he wrote notes that only he could understand or make sense of. It was better that way. He would not ruin the trust of his students by letting someone else find something personal that they had said to him written down and put in a folder somewhere. He had a damn good memory anyways so writing stuff down was just repetitive.

So.. he was bullied? That made quite a bit of sense for the situation. He often had bullied students come in to talk to him, but most of them were on suicide watch. Jeremy seemed like... well... he was going to defend himself. He did defend himself. Those were the ones he really worried about. The ones on suicide watch couldn't take being called names. But it was students like Jeremy that could take the names and fought back.. well... they worried him. Bullies didn't like to be challenged and never fought fair. He had, over time, heard his fair share of horror stories. Students who fought back being jumped and seriously hurt or sometimes killed.... he didn't want that to happen to any of his students. Not Jeremy. Not anyone. If he could, he would do everything in his power to prevent that from happening even if, in the end, it was sending a student away to a different school. He didn't want it to come to that though.

For the moment he ignored the comment that Jeremy made to him about himself being looking like a 'senior' upon first impression, because he'd heard that before, and he instead leaned forward and folded his arms onto the desk. "I applaud you for being able to ignore the name calling, Jeremy. And, although I am not supposed to say this, I also applaud you defending yourself against a bully. It takes a lot to fight back in school, especially knowing you'll be in a great deal of trouble." He paused and ran his hands through his hair slightly. It was a habit he got into while talking to students under stressful circumstances. Should Jeremy fight again, or even go through with his threat in sending Joe to the hospital, then the police would become involved. He did not want Jeremy going to jail.

"However, I ask that the next time he does hit you... please, come to me. I can't tell you not to fight him, but that would be my preference in the matter. If you send him to the hospital you will be sent to prison. I don't want to see that happen. If he starts something again, a fight i mean or even name calling, I promise you that I will do everything in my power to have him sent away. Far away where he can't bother you again. I know it sounds a bit far fetched but I take this kind of thing very seriously. When I speak with Joe tomorrow he will be warned as well, but I can not guarantee he will listen to the warning or take it seriously. Just take my word for it, I am very, very serious about this."

Noticing the atmosphere in the room was tense, Josh smiled once more and straightened. It was time for a subject change. They could come back to this later. For now it was best to just change the subject quickly. Jeremy had that piece of information and that was what mattered. The last thing that he wanted was for the student to get defensive or feel like he was being interrogated. This was about the time where students began to shut down. So he either had to ask more questions about them and change the subject from the reason they were sent in, or talk about himself. He always tried talking about them first. "Now that that is out of the way, why don't you tell me about yourself, Jeremy? I haven't had a chance to peak at your grades, but what's your favorite subject?"

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[American_Flyleaf_Girl]

<-< The Troubled Teen >->


At first, his reaction was relatively surprising. No notes. No jotted scribbles on yellow legal pads to be referred to later should something be 'missed.' Most of the psychiatrists, therapists, and counselors -- school or otherwise -- had immediately gone into a bout of furious printing the minute he opened his mouth. It was refreshing. Jeremy relaxed a fraction, finally feeling... almost comfortable. Still nervous, still jittery. But closer to being comfortable than he had been.

Praise for defending himself. Another surprise. That explanation -- not to mention the addition of a veritable threat he was quite willing to carry out should Joe decide to screw with him again -- would surely have landed him a lengthy lecture from most of the other 'trained' professionals he'd seen. A long discussion displaying the stupidity of fighting and how amazing having inner peace was and focusing on something else when you were resisting the urge to stomp the face of your enemy into the dirt. Even so, without the lecture, Jeremy could see a sort of worry present, unease.

And then there it was -- the insistence that Jeremy come to him, this near-total stranger, should anythign like this happen again. Send Rigby away? It was a pleasant but unlikely thought. The kid's dad was on every board and involved in every money-related organization in the city. He was a skilled computer programmer, a genius, not big and scary in the physical sense, but he had the kind of presence people didn't tamper with. And if they did, they wished they didn't. Nothing necessarily ever happened, but he was an intimidating force nevertheless. Mr. Gagnon did seem severely dedicated to keeping his word, and Jeremy stared at him for a long moment before givign a halfhearted shrug of uncertainty.

" I'll do my best, " he replied simply. " But I won't make a promise I can't be sure I'll keep. You're not going to make Rigby into any less of an a*****e. It's just how's he's been raised -- a big ego, a big attitude to hide all of the little nitpicking insecurities that he's been programmed with. Not smart enough, not rich enough. He and I are two sides of one coin. " He lifted his lips in a barely-there smile. " Our parents are both convinced that they're gods, and we're supposed to live up to it. " It was rather true. His own parents weren't rich, but they wanted their son to be perfect and normal. Rigby's parents wanted miniatures of themselves envisioned in their son. As much as the two teenage boys hated one another, they were stuck in the same boat.

" History, ironically, " he replied, a more obvious grin breaking the monotonous stare. He smiled rarely, but here and now he deemed it appropriate. " I like history. It can be morbid and disturbing, but I love it. The World Wars. The Narc War in Mexico. The Rape of Nanking. The Holocaust. All horrifically interesting examples of human stupidity and gut-wrenching violence. That's pretty much the biggest reason why people think I'm a creep, because I focus on such morbid things in the world. " Jeremy paused, looking down at his hands. " But then there are things that come up that simply stun the world with the bold brightness of revolution, and that's even better. Israel's defenses of its holy land. The release and election of Nelson Mandela. The rise of women's rights. Desmond Tutu's awarding of the Nobel Peace prize. American-German-Japanese alliances after World War 2. MLK Jr. The advancements of revolutionary medical treatments. There's so much diversity. It's this huge insane jumble of political debate and social standards. It helps explain things to my functionally disabled brain, " he said, tapping his temple briefly and letting his hands slide back into his lap. He paused.

" What about you, Gagnon? " he said suddenly, looking up and affixing the man with a calmer gaze. " [color=darkslategray]What's your favorite method of torture? " he joked dryly. School could be torturous, he thought, so the comment was almost a necessity. " I'm actually glad that you haven't though. They're not pretty, I assure you, " he said, shrugging again.

[.~[Misty.Muffin]~.]

ｔｈｅ Ｐ Ｒ Ｏ Ｔ Ｅ Ｃ Ｔ Ｉ Ｖ Ｅ ｃｏｕｎｓｅｌｏｒ

"Your best is all I can ask for." he said pleasantly, picking up his water from the desk. What more could he ask for after all? He was quite pleased that the boy wasn't willing to make a promise he knew he couldn't keep. It showed a strong piece of character to be able to do something like that. Josh wasn't sure that he himself wouldn't be able to do something like that. It was easier to just promise and have someone get off their backs after all. Though the easier way was not always the right way, it was sometimes just quicker. "I'm not trying to change anyone here." he said, pausing briefly to take a small drink from his water. "I just want to help." The boy closed off his water and set it back onto the desk before smiling at the last comment made by Jeremy. He brushed a bit of hair from his face before returning his attention to the body across the desk. Ah, parents. They were always such a pain and a bother and, Josh had found, was often the cause of most teens pains. "Try not to let your parents affect how you live your life to much, Jeremy. I would be a doctor or a lawyer if my parents had been given to much say. Believe me though, I did have to fight. Sometimes that's what it takes. All I can do is wish you luck and hope that everything works out."

Josh felt silent and watched Jeremy as he began to speak. History, hm? His explanation seemed a bit.. out there, but it was a decent one. All of the subjects he named were horrific. Should Josh be asked to name the most horrific historical times he would have easily mentioned both the Holocaust and the Rape of Nanking. Both were reasons he himself hated learning about history. When he had learned about both those things during High School it had been an awful miserable semester. They had watched videos on both subjects, and both videos had him crying. He was in an AP class... so most students had been crying. That made it a little less embarrassing. Though, he had really never been the kind of person to care about what others thought of him. Especially when he was in High School. It had been such a minor part of his life that he hadn't let it really affect him.

His thoughts were stopped by the expression the boy held as he looked down at his hands and continued. As he spoke the man smiled slightly. Ah, so he was a history buff not only for the bad, but for to good as well. While there was indeed quite a lot of bad in the world, there was as well good. Studying Gandhi had been Josh's favorite part of history. The counselor nodded slightly once he seemed to end the History explanation. "I don't think that a 'functionally disabled brain' could have explained all of that to me, Jeremy. It sounds to me like you have quite a passion for History." he said with a small smile. There was no way that someone with a simple liking of something could explain something to that extent. Josh had a hard time explaining anything with that much passion.

When there was a question directed to him, Josh blinked. "I assume that you mean subject?" he asked with a small smile. The wording 'method of torture' was rather amusing. In High School, though he was in AP classes, he had never been to fond of school. He had been good at Math, though he wasn't great with numbers. It took to long for them to comprehend in his head. English he was decent at... History he wasn't to fond of... Science... Art.. Music. He wasn't really great at any of them. He passed them all with A's... but he wasn't fond of them really. "Ah, i'm sure your grades are fine. I'm sure that they can't be the worse i've seen." he said with a laugh. There was no way that Jeremy's grades could be the worse he had ever seen. He had seen not only straight F's, but such a low GPA that a student had actually been removed from the school. He was positive that Jeremy wasn't on that level.

"As for my preferred 'method of torture'... well, I suppose I don't have one." he smiled and leaned back in the chair, trying to think back. "School was easy for me and I passed everything... but, ah, I was never really 'good' at anything. There was no subject I preferred over the other and nothing in school really stood out to me." Josh was silent for a moment and folded his arms across his stomach and rocked back and forth in his chair thoughtfully. "Sociology in College was quite fascinating though. I'm afraid that's really all I could relate to. Well, can relate to. I prefer people to books. "

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[American_Flyleaf_Girl]

<-< The Troubled Teen >->


Jeremy allowed a small, thin smirk to grace his mouth. The idea of the man sitting across from him being a lawyer or doctor wasn't so far out of reach that he couldn't imagine it -- but then again, once you've met someone a certain way it becomes more and more difficult to imagine them another way, no matter what the subject. Career, race, religion, gender, even small things like habits or haircuts. It was just too different to consider. It was logical, considering his intelligence, but not.... likely, he guessed the word was.

He seemed... uneased for a moment by his explanation as to why he had claimed History as his favorite. But once Jeremy brought in the good, his face lightened a bit. Jeremy chuckled a little, dryly. " Well, apparently my doctors can't come up with anything better to describe me. PTSD, ADHD, OCD, any other acronym you can come up with. They've tried them all and sadly none fit. " He shrugged indifferently. " Whatever they label me as that's still what it comes down to, 'functionally disabled', or more simply, 'socially unadjustable'. I don't know. I don't ever pay attention to what series of random letters they stuff into my file. " He nodded lightly. " And... yeah. Torture. Subjects. Same thing. "

He glanced at the clock on the wall and didn't really take heed of the time, glancing back again. School would be out in about a half an hour. His parents were probably not intending on picking him up when he could just as easily walk home and save them some gas so they could sit on the couch and scold from there without the risk of crashing mid-snap. He could always just sneak in through the back, but knowing his dad, he'd be in the kitchen at the table working on somethign or other at his computer. Jeremy could be a slimy little thing when he really wanted to, but there was no way in heaven or on earth that he'd have a chance of sneaking in through a squeaky back sliding glass door and behind his father who happened to have the ears of a hawk. " They aren't life-threatening, but they're.... eh. The grades of a 'low-class hick', so says the 'rents. An A, two B's, the rest are C's and an F or two. I don't put too much effort into the C's and the F's. The B's are from Chemistrry and Trig. I could do without both. "

He listened to Gagnon as he recalled his own classes and subjects, and was surprised. " Really? " he replied, expressing an unfamiliar, genuine interest. " I can't see it. I get the sociology thing, I mean you are a counselor so I should hope you like people, but I can't see you not liking anything in specific in highschool. You seem like kind of a nerd god, if you don't mind the less than flattering assosciation. " Jeremy furrowed his brows at him for a moment. " That's just strange to me. Being good at everything and not liking something in particular. But I guess that's just the norm that people usually look for.... "

He paused again. " Two opposite ends of the spectrum I guess. " He shook his head, grinning barely. " Well, either this is going to go fantastically, or it's going to end in disaster. At least you have a brain in your skull that works. The last counselor was.... quite ironically, a nutcase. She thought I was schitzophrenic. " Jeremy grinned a bit more broadly. " I had a lot of fun with that one. She was dead convinced I had the whole voices thing going for me. " Another pause. " This your first job? Actual, legitimate paying job? "

[.~[Misty.Muffin]~.]

ｔｈｅ Ｐ Ｒ Ｏ Ｔ Ｅ Ｃ Ｔ Ｉ Ｖ Ｅ ｃｏｕｎｓｅｌｏｒ

Josh's smile was short lived as the student began to speak. PTSD? OCD? ADHD? None of those seemed to fit the student in front of him. Especially... well... none of them. Perhaps ADHD because the student was a bit fidgety, but Josh had spoken to people with PTSD. Jeremy didn't seem to have any of the signs. And he himself had a rather severe case of OCD. Jeremy? No no, that didn't fit the boy at all. What kind of crack-headed doctors was this boy seeing? What the hell were they telling him? "In the short time i've been talking to you, Jeremy, I see nothing wrong with you. I don't know what kind of nut job- I mean, professionals you have been seeing but I, apparently, am completely missing what they saw. Labeling you as PTSD? What lunatics." The last part was mumbled lightly, but nothing more was done to hide his thoughts on the previous 'professionals'. "Being 'socially unadjustable' also seems to me to be a load of bull. While you may not be the most popular person in the school or, as you mentioned, the most accepted, that hardly seems to fit you. I'll take a look at your file a little more in depth later, but it seems to me that we'll be starting a new one." That was probably said a little to cheerfully, but the years of 'counseling' that it seemed poor Jeremy had had... well... from what the boy said it seemed like it was nothing. It did nothing to help him and, if anything, it had hurt him in the long run more. That was not their job as counselors and doctors, damn it. He wasn't going to say just anything to cheer the boy up, but he would do anything to help him.

Ah, now came the glancing at the clock. Was Josh becoming repetitive or monotonous? He was trying not to but there was a chance that he was. For the moment he only smiled and pretended that he had missed the boys actions of checking the time. Jeremy was here, after all, until Josh released him. He was 'officially' off duty when the final bell for the students rang, but that didn't mean that was when he left. He had been at school till eight at night before and often gave his late night meeting students rides home. Improper, perhaps, but he wasn't going to let them walk home late at night. That would be irresponsible as a counselor, a teacher, an adult, and as a person. Josh rather prided himself on being a good person. Or, at least, trying to be a good person. Counseling was only step one on top of the volunteering he... sometimes... wanted to do. Between work and sleeping, there wasn't a lot of time to do volunteer work like he wanted to.

When Jeremy spoke of his grades, the man brightened. "Well, that's not bad at all!" he said cheerfully. "I've defiantly seen much, much worse since i've been here. If you ever want help bringing the F's or C's up, then just let me know and I'll see what i can do to help." he said with a smile. Though Josh wasn't the master of every subject, he knew that he could at least do the things that the school was offering. If he couldn't help, then he would find a tutor who could. It wasn't as if he was going to force the boy to bring his grades up, but now the offer was there if he wanted to. More students than he could name had walked in his office the first time with terrible grades and walked off the stage during graduation with A's and B's. It just took a little help and some positive feedback. Why the teachers weren't offering that he didn't know. It was actually getting a bit ridiculous.

Was it really so surprising that he was a jack of all trades and a master of none? That while he had aced and passed every test and every class that had been thrown at him, that he wasn't really fond of any? Jeremy's reaction wasn't the first. People seemed surprised that he wasn't some kind of mathematician or some kind of undercover secret scientist doing some kind of study. He liked to think of himself as a normal person... even if that was so far from the truth he was digging himself in a hole. The thought made him smile slightly. There was something else interesting about Jeremy now. He seemed quite interested in what Josh was saying. He had been listening the entire time, but there was now that spark in the boys eyes showing that he was not only listening, but wanting to talk about that further. Interesting.

"A nerd God?" Josh stopped his thoughts and let out a loud, amused laugh. More than one of his little chuckles he had so far been offering. "In High School that little term of endearment was probably very much fitting for me. I was a jack of all trades and a master of none. I suppose that it is a tad bit odd, but that was me. Well, is me. I'm not really as normal as I appear." Josh stopped and smiled. Normal. He was far from normal. Spending hours and hours studying in school. Days without moving from his desk. His parents bringing him food and listening to him. He had hardly grown up normally. The thought itself was rather... amusing.

Before Josh could offer another interesting piece of information to the boy, he was interrupted by the student speaking. "Schizophrenic?" he asked, sending the boy a baffled look. "I imagine you would have had fun with that. I don't think i'd be able to pass up that kind of chance to mess with someone." he said thoughtfully. Someone thinking he was a Schizo when he wasn't? That was way to awesome of a thing to pass up. Josh already talked to himself quite a bit and having it labeled for him would just be something that would be fun to do. He chuckled slightly at the thought and shook his head. "I'm positive you aren't a Schizo, Jeremy, and I feel bad that you had to deal with so many... incorrectly informed professionals. I only say that because I can't respectfully call them lunatics."

He laughed again and looked to the boy again as he spoke. This time asking about his job. "It is." he answered as he leaned forward once more. "I was in college when I met the Dean of the school. He was quite convinced that he had to have me as a teacher here, and when he found out I was trying to become a counselor for a High School offered me a job on the spot. I didn't even have to look or do anything. He took care of all of the arrangements the day after he offered me a job... that was only my third year of college. I wasn't even able to legally drink yet." He paused and let out another laugh. "I suppose you can say I was a lucky, spoiled little child growing up." Josh smiled and rested his elbow onto the desk before falling silent for a moment. Spoiled and lucky were very, very large understatements, but for the moment Jeremy didn't need to know that. He didn't want the student to yet judge him for how he was brought up. He never pretended to understand or know exactly what a student was going through in their life, but it was easier to help them if they weren't judging him because of how he was brought up.

xxxxxxxxxxx_______________________________________________ l☺l________

[American_Flyleaf_Girl]

<-< The Troubled Teen >->


Jeremy laughed again, a genuine display of amsuement of Gagnon's reaction. " Well, thanks for seeing the light a little more clearly than some others who preceed you have, " he replied. " I really did mess with that lady. I had four or five 'personalities' that she would have chats with. It was a good acting excercise to pretend to be racist, british, a girl, the president of Timbuktu, and myself all in one sitting. And thankfully she was ditzy enough that I could switch it up when I got bored with one set of basket cases. " He shrugged. " Call me an a**, but when the only other way to get your kicks is currently inaccessible, you take what you've got. Am I right? "

Whether it really was about getting his kicks or not, it didn't matter. He really could be demented sometimes -- that was one of the very few things his teachers, doctors, counselors and parents had actually gotten right in the past years of assumptions and thrown guesses. He wasn't mentally insane, just a creepy teenager who would most likely grow up to bea happy, normal adult male who secretly killed people and hid them in his basement or something. He couldn't really see himself like that now, but it was a possibility. A morbid, morbid possibility, but a possibility anyways.

" I can't see normal as being something someone would tag you with on a regular basis. You're a genius who graduated at 17 and becamse a school counselor. Not exactly your everyday life story. We're two people in the same boat, just on opposite decks. I'm a teenager with a temper, a short record, and a really big issue with staying sane when everyone thinks I'm nuts already. Calling people like us normal would be like calling the sky green. It just doesn't fit. " He picked up his bag, digging around for his phone and holding it up as some part or another of an Apocalyptica song burst into the calm air. He grimaced visibly, making no motion to hide his distaste with the caller as he stood and turned away to answer the call.

" What the hell am I hearing about you getting into another fight? " came his mother's calm, but icy voice before he could even offer up a greeting. He had intended on trying to be kind, but his face lost any and all signs of sympathetic, hopeful manners.

" Oh, I don't know. That would probably insinuate that I... got into a fight. I'm suspended for a week, " he said with flat disinterest. " Anything else? "

" A week--? G-ddammit, Jeremy.... Your father and I work damn hard to keep you in that school and this is what you give us? "

" Dude, I'm going to be home in less than an hour, " he said finally, looking at the clock again and seeing it was about twenty minutes before school got out now. " Can't you just gripe and whine at me later? "

He could tell she was resisting the urge to scream at him through the phone. " No, dear, because I'm quite enjoying your ever-so-guilty facial expression, " she said. He rolled his eyes.

" Oh yes. Very, very, guilty... " he feigned, turning again and suddenly stopping short with a sudden, small noise of startlement. He could see about four square inches out of the thin door-window, and standing in the office with an extremely displeased expression on her face was his mother. She was tall and well-dressed, wearing pants and heels with a jacket, hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. In one hand she held her phone to her ear, the other on her purse strap, and she snapped the flip phone shut, replacing it in the black handbag. Jeremy let the phone slide down from his ear and sat back down, out of few.

" Well, the Queen has arrived, and I as her loyal subject must prepare to bear her punishment, " he grumbled with a disdainful expression, picking up his backpack and glancing at the clock. " I wonder how long it would take her to beat the door in if I just stayed here. I'd give it four minutes. " Jeremy ran a hand through his hair, glancing towards the window grimly. " I guess I'm due back here tomorrow. I'll be here under command of federal law, " he shrugged, turning and heading towards the door. " Thanks for not being a douchebag. It's refreshing. "

He opened it and glanced up, then towards the door that led out of the office and into the hallway. He shouldered his way past, his mother glancing towards Gagnon's office with a dirty glower and then following Jeremy out into the hallway. If she talked at him, he wasn't paying attention. Mostly he was focusing on trying to avoid getting chewed out, but that wouldn't be happening unless he somehow avoided actually getting into the car and going home. It was unfortunate that he would be leaving so soon -- the counselor was much more interesting to talk than he was used to -- but it wasn't as if he wouldn't be back.

[.~[Misty.Muffin]~.]

ｔｈｅ Ｐ Ｒ Ｏ Ｔ Ｅ Ｃ Ｔ Ｉ Ｖ Ｅ ｃｏｕｎｓｅｌｏｒ

Four personalities? The description of each one had Josh smiling a bit more than the last. Well, it was five counting who he normally was. The counselor let out a small chuckle as the student continued to talk. He was an interesting person, this Jeremy. To him... he just sounded like some bored student who liked to mess with people because they messed with him. People assumed that something was wrong with him and even if it wasn't true... he gave them something to do. He made something 'wrong' with him. Even it if was making something up like being a schizophrenic. And the president of Timbuktu? Timbuktu was a town in West Africa in Mali. There was no president of Timbuktu. How stupid was the last counselor? "I think indeed you are." he said with a laugh. "I can't say that I would do the same, but it's quite amusing." Amusing being that it wasn't him that the trick was being pulled on. Josh wasn't someone who was easily fooled, but something like that would have annoyed him a great deal. It seemed from Jeremy's actions and the look on his face when he was speaking or listening that Josh was trusted. He wasn't just 'a counselor' he was very well on his way to becoming a friend. That was what he wanted from his students. He didn't want to be a teacher or someone paid to spend time with them. He wanted to be their friend and a person that they went to when they had troubles. He was already a person that a few people went to... but he wanted more students to be able to true him.

So far all he was getting from Jeremy was a student who was bullied. People thought something was wrong with him so he gave them something that was wrong with him. The ADHD thing was probable because of the fidgeting he was noticing, but so far the boy seemed fairly normal. He messed with people because they messed with him. He accepted bullying and only fought back when he was touched or hit. That as it should be. Josh had never been picked on, but he supported the saying 'you don't start a fight, but you finish it'. It wasn't something he told his students necessarily, but it was something he himself secretly lived by. It didn't just mean fist fighting, it meant any kind of fighting. Coworkers could be quite jealous people. He knew of more than a few teachers who disliked them because he walked in with a higher pay than them and they had been working there for years. Ah well. It wasn't worth his time really.

When Jeremy began to speak again, Josh turned his attention back. His words made him smile. Actually, he had graduated at sixteen from high school, but that was a minor detail. He supposed that, by normal technical terms, he was far from the word 'normal'. "I'm hardly a genius, Jeremy, and you're hardly abnormal. In my mind if I want to see the sky as being green, then its green." More would have been added to that...but he was cut short by loud noises which made him jump. Oh, it was the boys phone. He had forgotten to mention no cell phones on in his office, hadn't he? It ruined his train of thought and interrupted important conversation. This was a perfect example of that. Interrupting cell phones were one of the few things that really annoyed him. He only sighed and motioned for the boy to answer it.

Right away he could tell it was someone that Jeremy didn't want to talk to. One of his parents? He only hummed slightly and pretended to busy himself with organizing papers on his desk while he listened carefully. Oh yes, that was a parent. It didn't sound like he was on very pleasant terms with his parents. Perhaps trouble at home was reason for his acting? He was crying out for attention, perhaps? As cliche as that sounded, it seemed to be true. His attention was only pulled back when Jeremy let out an odd sound. He followed the students gaze to the window and blinked seeing a woman. Ah... his mother it would seem. He needed to remember to close the blind to block the window and lock his door when he was in with a student. He hated being interrupted... especially when it was a nosy parent.

"To the gallows you go, I presume?" he asked with a chuckle, quite enjoying the play on words with the medieval play on words. He was tempted to use.. other words... but decided not to. The woman was right outside the door after all. It was his job as a counselor to take the students side... and he always would. "From the look on her face, Jeremy, i'd give it two." He sent an amused look to the woman and gave her a little wave. Funny people, mothers were. Most would be worried about their child getting into a fight... she only seemed angry that she had to take time out of her day to come and get her son who was in trouble. What a horrible woman.

"Ah, yes! Tomorrow!" he said happily and stood up. "You're required to be here in the morning, but I don't see you until ten." he said with a smile as the boy made his way to the door. At the last comment, Josh could only laugh. "Of course, Jeremy. If in the future I ever begin to act like a douchebag, please just let me know." The man walked around his desk and followed the student out chuckling. He sent a wave to the mother at the dirty look he got before closing the door and moving back into his office.

Well, wasn't that... fun. Yes, it was fun. Josh smiled slightly to himself as he returned to his desk. These were going to be quite the interesting sessions with Jeremy, weren't they? He had to admit that he quite enjoyed talking to the boy. He had opened up fairly quickly and had been quite honest. He was glad that he had made a good first impression on the boy. Hopefully the next day would go just as good.

xxxxxxxxxxx_______________________________________________ l☺l________

[American_Flyleaf_Girl]

<-< The Troubled Teen >->


He glanced back at the counselor for a brief moment before they were off down the hallway, out the front doors of the school. A couple of students stared at him blankly, on their way between classes or to the bathroom, watching him head out. They didn't seem to recognize him, though they may just have been focusing more on the glaring woman striding with plunking heeled steps beside him, boring holes into the back of his skull with her demon-eyes.

Demon eyes, that's what he'd always called them. Always narrowed, even when she smiled, in an unpleasant, angry squinting sort of shape. When she was annoyed a little tick mark furrowed itself between her brows, and when she was really angry her face reddened and her face turned downwards sharply at the corners, forming a threatening but silent glare of absolute destruction.

Demon. he thought to himself as he swung into the backseat of his mother's black Prius. That's what you are, just hiding in that perfect human skin. Crawl out at night to suck the life out of the innocent ones...

" ...many times we've had to do this, I just don't understand why you can't keep your hands to yourself! "

He jumped slightly and looked up, meeting those eyes. " What?" he said blankly, caught off guard in his moment of spacing out. She rolled her eyes at him and looked ahead as she peeled out of the parking lot, cut off a minivan and zoomed out along the road at breakneck speeds for a few seconds before she dropped down to the legal driving limit. Jeremy stiffened a little until she slowed back down -- he'd never had much of a thing for cars. Bikes, motorcycles, even trains or planes or buses. Just... cars bother him. It was like being in a tiny can on wheels that could bowl over at any moment. At least on a bike or motorcycle, you could see the cause of your imminent death before it hit you, and maybe even survive it.

" I said, even after how many times we've had to do this, I just don't understand why it is you keep getting into fights. It's not that hard to not punch someone in the face, Jeremy! "

" It isn't that hard to not smack someone across the head with a textbook either, now is it? " he snapped back, arms folded across his chest. " What do you expect me to do, just sit there and take it like a b***h? "

" Don't you use that language in my car! "

" Really? Really, Cheryl? You're gonna gripe at me about MY language? "

" DON'T CALL ME CHERYL, DAMNIT! " she snapped.

" THEN DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE I'M F*CKING FIVE YEARS OLD!!! " he snapped back, fallign silent for a moment to allow himself to breathe. " I don't just walk up and sock people in the jaw, Mom. I didn't do anything and they just decided today was my lucky day. Are you blind enough not to see that? "

" For the love of... All I'm asking is that you not drag me out of the office on such a busy day to come down and keep your father from killing you, " she sighed, hitting her left signal and changing lanes before turning down a side street. " It's not that hard. "

" So you do want me to stand there and take it. "

" Yes, " she snapped with frustration. " Get out. "

He had barely realized that the car had stopped, and slid out of the backseat with his bag in hand, other hand in his pocket as he nudged the door shut and headed up to the front door. It was unlocked. His father's old Ford 250 sat in the space beside the one his mother had pulled into, sleek and white and polished like diamond. He was impeccably clean, Jeremy's father. At least with his cars, he was. Jeremy could already tell he was sitting in the living room, newspaper peeking out beside a large brown armchair.

" Another fight. "

Jeremy stopped dead in his tracks in the entryway of the living room. " Yes. "

A shuffle of thin papers being turned. " Don't let it happen again. "

Jeremy looked floorways. " Yes sir. "

" No dinner, " his father said, switching to the front page, voice calm, collected, cold. " Go to bed. "

He said nothing this time and turned on his heel, heading back to the hallway and quickly disappearing up towards his room on the second floor of the house. He was shaking a bit, and he rubbed his hands together to urge it to stop. Stupid fights. Stupid school. Stupid parents.

Stupid life.

---

The next day he rode the city bus, an annoying but necessary evil at nine-thirty in the morning. He arrived on campus while everyone was still in class, checking into the office and plunking down in one of the chairs to await his next get-together with Gagnon. He had brought only a small string-loop backpack and his Mp3 player with him this time -- phone shut off in his back pocket and left there. He was perfectly happy sitting deafly in his corner of the office, index and middle finger of his right hand tapping along to some... random song, he couldn't recall what it was.

[.~[Misty.Muffin]~.]

ｔｈｅ Ｐ Ｒ Ｏ Ｔ Ｅ Ｃ Ｔ Ｉ Ｖ Ｅ ｃｏｕｎｓｅｌｏｒ

Joe Rigby could be described in four choice words : Son. Of. A. b***h. Not only was he a spoiled little brat that believed that everything was supposed to be handed to him on a silver platter, but was also quite aware of the fact of the high position his parents held in the city. He knew what kind of influence his parents held over the school and used it to his full advantage. Keeping his temper intact while speaking to the boy was very... very difficult. Josh had never felt like hitting a student before... but Joe was starting to push that want. And he was never really that good at stopping himself from what he wanted to do. Two hours with that boy was two hours to long. This boy was just... ugh. Ten minutes before ten he had Joe walking out of his office. The second he was out, Josh hit his head against the table. THAT BOY. Ugh! What a headache he was given from that Joe! His only problem was his damn ego! Half of Josh hoped that Joe would smack Jeremy again so the boy would beat the living hell out of him. A black eye was NOT enough for that brat. While Josh was usually one for having a student walking in and out at the exact specific time, he was more than happy to have Joe leaving early.

Rubbing his head and sighing, Josh stood up and made his way out of his office. Sure enough in the chair reserved for people waiting for him sat Jeremy. Apparently listening to some kind of good music. Josh chuckled and smiled lightly before tapping on the boys shoulder, smiling patiently. Once the head phones were removed he straightened. "I'm ready for you any time, Jeremy." he sad before heading into his office. Unsure of whether or not the boy was following behind, he spoke anyways. "Just excuse me while I take an aspirin... or two. I'm afraid the meeting with Joe was... interesting. Though I can't say much more. Forgive me." He laughed a bit and waved his hand before making his way over to a locked cabinet near his desk. He pulled some keys from his pocket, picked through them for a moment, then picked a small silver one and unlocked it. The cabinet was filled with various students medications. All ordered alphabetically and by year of the student. The top had basic things like aspirin, ibuprofen, and toiletries for girls. It was best to be prepared and just a bit surprising how many people did come to him with... some odd, odd issues. Including being worried about being pregnant. Ah, girls. Strange creatures. But Josh was prepared for the worst.

Josh grabbed the plain bottle of aspirin, opened it and popped two into his hand before placing the bottle back into the cabinet. He then closed it, locked it, and pocketed the keys. The lock was just a precaution, of course. It was no secret that as the counselor he would hold the medication for the students... it was usually the nurses job but... he was more qualified to watch the medication than she was. Which was a bit... worrisome to Josh, but it didn't matter. It was just another responsibility that he didn't mind at all. Josh hummed lightly as he made his way across the room and to his desk where his coffee was sitting. He took a small drink from the mug before swallowing the pills. "Ah, that should be much better now." he said with a sigh and dropped into his chair before smiling back to Jeremy warmly. "Please, make yourself comfortable once more, Jeremy. Snacks and so on and so forth are over there. Same place as yesterday. It was quite a shame that we were interrupted yesterday." he said before leaning back once he set his mug back down again.

"So, how are you this morning, Jeremy?" he asked with a smile. It was best to not jump right into the 'counseling' portion of the meeting. He had found that was always a bad, bad idea. Especially on the second day. "If you don't mind me asking, what were you listening to while you were waiting? You seemed quite into it." He couldn't help but let an amused look slip onto his face. It had been quite amusing to see the boy tapping his fingers to whatever beat that was playing on in the headphones. Josh himself had been caught dancing around to music so... he really wasn't one to judge.

xxxxxxxxxxx_______________________________________________ l☺l________

[American_Flyleaf_Girl]

<-< The Troubled Teen >->

Jeremy jumped a bit, pulling himself back into reality from the echoing depths of the music thrumming in his brain and yanking one of the earphones out. It took him a moment to refocus but he stood up, following Gagnon into his office and letting the door click shut. It was one thing for him to function on his own in the morning -- that he could handle, easy. But as for human interaction... not so much. It took him another moment to catch the gist of what the counselor was actually saying.

" Yeah, well, that's Rigby for you, " he replied suddenly, back in the 'real world'. " I assume you now understand why my fist is just so magnetically attracted to his face whenever I'm around him. " Watching the young man across from him tend to the obvious headache he'd gained from his earlier chat with Joe, Jeremy stared around the room in indecision for a long moment, studying each seat and chair individually before he finally pulled up the stool and plunked down on it, more upright, spine straight instead of leaned forward and legs straight forward, heels resting on the lower rung of the barstool's legs. It didn't seem like Gagnon had much of a liking for Joe so far.

Well, he was liking the counselor more and more by the minute.

He looked down at the Mp3 player and paused, realizing his music was still going even though the headphones were hanging over his neck. He hit the 'pause' button, and looked up again. " Lie to Me, " he said blankly. " It's by... Red... yeah. Lie to me, bracket-Denial-bracket. Good song. Nice and... what's the term... emo. It kind of has that feeling of getting your heart torn out of your chest and lit on fire. But in a good way. "

It was true. It was... kind of a depressing song. The singer portrayed someone tellign their friend that what they were doing to try and make themselves happy was only hurting them, and that even if their friend didn't want them there, he still would be. It was a good song, though. " Makes my own personal issues seem a little less horrendous, I guess. At least when people have problems with me they just, you know, beat me over the head with it instead of lying to my face. "

Maybe he would have had a worse problem with people lying to him. He doubted it would be any more amusing than people smacking him across the head, but it would probably hurt worse to be betrayed by people who you assumed thought well of you.

" I'm okay. Enjoying the free time off of school, I guess, " he shrugged. " Not liking the outcome of a week of missing work, but I guess I get what I order, huh. " He pulled the headphones down from his neck. " You? "