The Art of Life (52 page)

               
He nods.
 
“Yes, very sure of that.”

               
“You know she is a teenage
girl.
 
She needs food, clothes,
stuff
for school.
 
Isabelle may have to go to the doctor.
 
I can see about getting her on state insurance.”

               
Jeremy scoffs and says, “No, I
will get her insurance.”
 
My eyes move
over and look at him like he is stupid.
 
He glances my way and then looks back at Miss Cunningham.
 
“I know very well what it will take to
support her.
 
I am more than able to do
that.”

               
“May I ask what you do for
work?” She asks.

               
“I am a bike mechanic.”

               
Nodding, Miss Cunningham
retorts, “Full time, I presume?”

               
“No, part
time,” Jeremy answers.

               
A slightly bewildered look
passes over Miss Cunningham’s face.
 
“How
do you plan to support her?
 
I mean, how
do you support yourself?
 
Do you make
that much money?
 
I mean no offense.”

               
“I make enough to support
myself, but I have the means otherwise to take care of her,” Jeremy sternly
declares.

               
That makes Miss Cunningham sit
up a little more.
 
“I do not mean to play
the devil’s advocate, but I do not believe that you understand what you are
taking on.”

               
Obviously, not very happy,
Jeremy almost snaps, “I will have to show you then.”
 
He gets up and walks back to his room.
 
I spin to watch him.
 
I do not want to look at Miss Cunningham
right now.
 
Jeremy comes back out
carrying two pieces of paper.
 
He walks
over and hands them to Miss Cunningham.
 
“I would appreciate you keeping this between the two of us.
 
The first one is my checking account balance
and the other is savings.
 
You will read
that I am more than alright.”

               
Okay, now my interest is
peaked.
 
I really want to see those
papers.
 
When I try to read the backs,
Jeremy steps in front of me.
 
I get a
slightly appalled look on my face.
 
“Hey,” I draw out.

               
“Isabelle,” Jeremy growls.
 
“Leave it be.”

               
I sit back and cross my
arms.
 
“Fine.”

               
Not being able to see Miss
Cunningham is slightly frustrating.
 
Suddenly I hear, “Well then, I see that you are correct.
 
I have a few questions but I think I will
keep those to myself.
 
Very well, I do
suggest getting her some form of insurance.
 
She is a teenage girl and needs to see doctors and so on.”

               
“I will look into that as soon
as I am able,” Jeremy replies, moving out of my way.
 
He takes the pieces of paper from Miss
Cunningham.
 
Folding them back up, Jeremy
holds them in the opposite hand.
 
Obviously, so I can’t see.
 
Well
then, now my curiosity is sky rocketed.
 
Jeremy sits back down and looks at me out of the corner of his eye.

               
Completely mature, I stick my
tongue out at him.
 
The corner of his
mouth twitches.
 
Taking my hand, he
kisses the back of it.
 
“I didn’t want to
see the stupid papers anyway,” I spit out playfully.

               
He smirks.
 
“Just realize you will be well taken care
of.”

               
“Thanks,” I whisper, putting my
head on his shoulder.

               
“I would like you to see a
therapist,” Miss Cunningham says.
 
“I can
suggest a few.”

               
Sitting up, I reply, “The doctor,
who I saw, gave me the card to someone.”

               
“Well, I think it would really
benefit you,” she replies.

               
Jeremy turns and looks at
me.
 
“Why didn’t you tell me that?”

               
“Because,” I grumble.
 
“I don’t want to go see a shrink.”

               
 
“Like it or not, you are going,” he states
matter-of-factly.

               
I arch my eyebrow.
 
“I will see one if you will.”

               
A very dark frown passes over
Jeremy’s face.
 
“I am not finding humor
in that.”

               
“It’s not supposed to be
humorous,” I whisper harshly.
 
“I mean
it.
 
I will go if you go.”

               
“Like to your appointment?”

               
The look on my face has to be
priceless.
 
“No, that’s not what I mean,
and you know it, but….this is NOT the time and place to have this
conversation.”
                  

               
“No,” he retorts harshly.
 
“It is not.”
 
Jeremy looks back up at Miss Cunningham.
 
“I will make sure she gets to see someone.”

               
“Very well,” Miss Cunningham
says.
 
“Isabelle, do you have any idea
when you want to come back?”

               
Shrugging, I reply, “I have no
idea.
 
I think, maybe, Monday?
 
I can’t wait until all the bruising is
gone.
 
I would fail out of high school,
but I just need a few more days to myself.”

               
“That sounds good.
 
You are 18, so you can excuse yourself from
school.
 
I just need you to fill out this
paperwork.”
 
Miss Cunningham grabs a
piece of paper out of her attaché.
 
“This
is just a legal form.
 
Just like if your
parents would excuse you.”

               
“Okay.”
 
I take it from her and scan it.
 
“Do you have a pen?” I ask.

               
She smiles and takes one
out.
 
“
Here.
”

               
“Thanks,” I sigh.
 
My head starts to hurt while I fill in the
blanks.
 
I rub my temple when I am done.

               
“Are you okay?” Jeremy asks.

               
I grimace.
 
“I am getting a bad headache.”

               
“I will get you something,” he says,
standing up.

               
When he walks to the bathroom,
Miss Cunningham leans forward.
 
“Are you
sure you are okay here, Isabelle?”

               
“Yes,” I answer, with a
smile.
 
“I am safer here than anywhere
else.
 
He won’t let anything bad happen
to me.”

               
“Very good,” she responds.

               
Jeremy comes back in and hands
me two aspirin.
 
I take them and say,
“Thanks.”
 
He chuckles and rubs the top
of my head.
 
I playfully snap,
“Hey!”
 
We both laugh.

               
Miss. Cunningham stands up.
 
“Well, I should get going.
 
It was very nice meeting you Jeremy and
Isabelle, if you need anything, you call me, okay?”

               
“Yeah,” I reply.

               
“Thank you for coming,” Jeremy
says, walking Miss Cunningham to the door.

               
She turns and looks at him.
 
“Take good care of her.
 
If you can’t, please let us
know.”

               
“That won’t be an issue,” Jeremy
states.
 
“Thank you though.”

               
Opening the door, Miss
Cunningham sighs, “Just keep us in the loop.”

               
“I will,” I declare loudly,
probably too loudly.

               
“Okay,
bye
then.”

               
“Take care,” Jeremy says, as he
shuts the door behind her.
 
Turning he
looks at me with a dead stare.
 
“You did
not tell me that the doctor told you to see a therapist.”

               
With an exasperated eye roll, I
groan, “I don’t want to see one, so there was nothing to tell you.”

               
“You need to talk to someone
Isabelle.”

               
Mimicking him, I cross my arms.
 
“I think you should, too.”

               
“Oh, you think so,” he sneers,
walking forward.

               
I nervously giggle and back
up.
 
“Yup.”
 
He jumps at me and I scream.
 
We run down the hallway.
 
I jump into my room and spin to shut the
door, but he just pushes it open.
 
I put
my hands out and laugh.
 
“What are you
doing!?”

               
“I am going to tickle you until
you succumb to seeing a therapist.”

               
“That is not fair!” I
exclaim.
 
“I can’t do anything to you to
make you go!”

               
A playfully evil laugh comes
from him.
 
“That is the best part.”
 
Jeremy pushes me down on the bed and jumps up
to sit on my stomach.
 
Pinning me, he
sighs.
 
“Just say you will go.
 
Then I won’t have to torture you.”

               
Not being able not to, I snort,
“No.”
 
Jeremy instantly starts to tickle
me and I yell, “Stop!”

               
“Are you going to go?” He asks,
not stopping.

               
Trying with all of my might, I
push at him.
 
“No!”

               
That just makes him tickle me
harder.
 
I scream in protest.
 
“Just say you will go,” he growls with a
smile.

               
“Fine!”
I finally gasp.
 
“I will go!”

               
“Good,” he gloats, sitting up.

               
Looking at him, I say, “I will
go if you go.”

               
“Ugh!” Jeremy exclaims.
 
“Isabelle, I do not need to see a therapist.”

               
“Fine, I will go, but I am not
happy about it.”

               
Jeremy bends over and looks in
my eyes.
 
“Thank you.”

               
“No problem,” I reply.
 
Jeremy bends over and kisses me gently on the
forehead.
 
I close my eyes and enjoy the
touch.

               
That night I am once again
awake.
 
Will this ever stop?
 
Now, I am in this inward struggle, do I go to
him or stay here?
 
I plop back down on my
pillows and grimace.
 
Putting my arm over
my eyes, I try to go back to sleep, but that doesn’t happen.
 
Finally, I slam my fist down on the bed.
 
Throwing my blanket to the side, I get up.