Session One [Layla]

[Dr. Josephine Hudson]

Jo sat beneath her desk with a mug of hot chocolate and a book - Social Stories, for research purposes, of course. It was her usual thing to do before a session; she just needed to remember to seat herself at her desk - not under it - by the time the patient arrived. Some would knock on the door, causing her to leap up (and sometimes crack her head painfully on the underside of the desk) but others would just walk straight in, and they often found it weird that she was sitting under her desk. She didn't know why; but she didn't understand many human rituals - such as not sitting under desks - and had given up on trying to understand them.

After five minutes or so, she crawled out from underneath the desk and sat at her chair, tucking her legs underneath her and swinging herself around, before reminding herself that that wasn't very profesional, and making herself sit still. But being professional was so boring... She began to count prime numbers instead, closing her eyes and leaning back in her chair. She'd gone pretty high by the time she remembered that she was waiting for a patient, and checked the time on her phone. Layla was officially nine minutes late. Jo took several deep breaths and reminded herself that late patients were to be expected. It didn't count as a disruption to her schedule until fifteen minutes had passed...

She watched the clock on the phone, pressing the middle button everytime the light faded to conserve battery. It was fourteen minutes and counting by the time Layla walked in, letting Jo relax. Thank God. If it had gone past fifteen minutes, that would have been bad. Making an effort to smile at her patient, she gestured to a seat, noticing that she hadn't knocked. " Hello Layla; I'm Jo, your psychiatrist. Um... You were late to the session, I noticed. " She resisted the urge to add 'by fourteen minutes. That wouldn't be professional of her. Instead, she focused on the big rainbow painted halfway across her room and tried to relax. Being twitchy in sessions led to badness. Like having sex with your patients. Blushing at the thought, she started counting primes again; anything to stop herself thinking about that thing that happened with Rio.

[Layla Whitney]

Layla checked her hair in the mirror, and gave it a quick brush, before checking her clock. Ten minutes. She sighed. Probably can't put it off any longer. Getting up, she stretched and made her way down to the therapy rooms, wondering what it would be like. Probably have the shrink sat there asking how she felt about stuff. Layla wondered if they knew about the incident with Jess. Hopefully, the girl hadn't told anyone about what had happened in the laundry room, but she couldn't be sure.

Entering the room without knocking, she slumped down in the seat and gave Jo a fake smile. "Yeah, I was late," she said sweetly. "I was busy. Is that a problem?" The woman was tiny, and looked a little spacey. Layla wondered if she was stoned. Probably not- it was most likely against the law, or something. Sighing, Layla swung her legs up and rest her feet on the desk, careful not to disturb anything. Didn't want to make a really bad impression in her first session.

Sighing, she added calmly, "And before you ask, I do know why I'm here, I agree with my diagnosis, and I'm settling in fine, thank you." That was all the basics covered, right? She thought so. Of course, shrinks had a tendency to come out with something completely unexpected and throw you off balance, so Layla didn't feel particularly smug about her little outburst. Absently, she wondered if Jo would tell her off for having her feet on the desk, or if she'd just ignore it. Different shrinks, different reactions. That was one of the things Layla had learned long ago, when she first started having therapy. She also wondered how Jo would start the session, what with all the usual questions having been answered.

[Dr. Josephine Hudson]

Was it a problem? Of course it was a problem! Fourteen minutes would have to be detracted from the session now - that, or taken out of the rest of her schedule for the day, which would mean that she'd have to get up fourteen minutes later the next day, because she needed exactly enough sleep, and all her appointments would have to be moved forward... No, it was being taken out of the session. She wasn't letting Layla's lateness affect the rest of her entire life. " Well...sort of. What were you doing that made you 'busy'? " This wasn't a good start, and she hoped her tone wasn't as snappy as she felt. Pissing her student off within two - or sixteen, depending on how you looked at it - minutes of the session was probably a record for her.

She listened to Layla's speech with an expression of slight confusion. Why did she think that she was going to ask if she agreed with her diagnosis, knew why she was there, and how she was settling in? Those were good questions, though, and ones she asked if the silence got too long. Jo mentally reviewed Layla's file, wondering if she wanted to be a psychiatrist or anything. She hadn't mentioned it, no. Odd. " Why do you think I'll ask you that? But it's good that you're settling in well... " What should she ask the girl now? Did she have a roommate? Yes, Leah Wright. Jo began making a list of things she could ask about if the silence became awkward. Roommate, classes, friends. Anything else important?

Not really. But she somehow had to get an hour out of those three questions. What had she done in her other sessions? At St. Dympha's, she'd...well, attempted rapes took up time. With Francesca, it had been completely silent, and Jo had ended up letting her go. Layla wasn't mute though. Before St. Dympha's, what had she done in her sessions? All Jo could think of was trying to convince mutes to talk, or asking a self-harmer - a six year old, which was scary - why she was doing it, and then making a big picture of bad thoughts that made people want to hurt themselves. Which might be a little...off topic for this session. Would drawing be bad? Probably.

Ah, Layla sang, didn't she? Jo could ask about that. " So, how is your roommate? You're with Leah Wright. " Might be a predictable question, but it was still a question. She was scared of awkward silences, mainly because she couldn't tell when they were awkward. They always seemed fine to her.