Page 6 of Before We’re More Than Friends (When We Faced the Music #1)

Raina

PRESENT DAY

M y least favorite thing about waiting rooms was that no matter how much they tried to capture your interest, they were still mind-numbingly boring.

For crying out loud, no one wants to watch an old sitcom about bad moms or read an old magazine.

Could they at least give us entertainment from the past five years?

I wouldn’t mind scrolling on my phone like everyone else if I hadn’t been on edge. My anxiety was out of control today, feeling the need to remind me every few seconds that people might be watching me fidget.

My anxiety was why I was here in the first place.

My phone buzzed in my hand, saving me from my anxious thoughts. I picked it up to see I’d gotten a new message on Connections, a chat app that had come out a few years ago.

Alex

This is your daily reminder to never take a road trip with three other people and a dog. Your sanity could be at risk.

Chloe

Why would I need a reminder for something I’d never do?

Alex

You said you’d never start a small business while still in high school, but you did

Chloe

Those are two completely different situations, buddy

Alex

Wth don’t call me that

I feel like I’m talking to a bully

Chloe

Okay sweet pea

Alex

Hold on lemme find the block button

Chloe

Good luck

I rolled my eyes, though a smile shaped my lips. Alex was the only person who could satisfy my waiting room boredom. But a wave of sadness crashed over me as I thought about how much he’d been dreading this move.

I couldn’t relate to how he felt. Though I’d lived in Nevada my entire life, it was nothing more than a place I lived in.

The only place that struck home to me was my bedroom, also known as my office for my jewelry business, Raining Gems. It had everything from my stationery to jewelry supplies to my notebooks to books and whatever else I’d collected throughout my entire life.

But I knew how much Alex’s home in Dallas meant a lot to him. And knowing he wouldn’t be there anymore—out of the blue, given that his mom had only told him a few weeks ago—made me hurt for him.

It was nowhere near as bad as having your dad on house arrest for potentially committing tax evasion, but it still freaking sucked.

Closing my eyes, I leaned my head against the wall. Don’t think about it .

I sent Alex a message, wishing him well on his road trip, before opening social media.

My personal account was private and didn’t have many posts or followers, but Raining Gems had moderate success with two thousand followers and active engagement.

My most recent post for my amethyst line had gotten over two hundred likes.

I answered a few DMs before I checked some stories.

Isabelle’s was one of the first ones at the top, of course.

I clicked on it without hesitation. This time it was a selfie with her boyfriend and that freaking dog filter, both of them smiling like they were still in the honeymoon phase.

From the ocean in the background, I knew they were at the beach. Again.

Kind of coincidental that when she moved away to live with her dad after her parents divorced, her life turned into a social media fairy tale while my life became the pits of family issues and intrusive thoughts.

The waiting room door opened, and my psychologist and therapist, Susanna, peeked her head out and grinned at me. “Raina, I’m ready for you.”

“You don’t have to say that when I already know,” I said as I got up from my chair, adjusting my glittery belt.

Susanna laughed, her dark curls bouncing. “It’s part of the job.”

I smiled and followed her into her office.

What I loved about Susanna was her bubbly and caring nature—and her office showcased that.

Pictures of her family, friends, and pets covered the walls.

Her bookshelf was full of encouraging books and entertaining reads.

Piles of notebooks lay on her desk next to her cups of pens.

Encouraging sayings in Italian were on each wall.

The chaotic and upbeat room had my approval for a great office.

“Good afternoon, Raina,” Susanna said as she sat at her desk. “I know you’ve had the week from hell. Want to talk about it?”

“It’s a counseling session.” I scoffed, folding my legs on her brown couch. “I don’t have a choice.”

“Yeah, I’d have to kick you out if you didn’t cooperate with me. And that would be sad—I really love making money off you.”

We shared a laugh. I’d been through several psychologists and therapists, but they were either boring, rude, or unhelpful in every way.

But then Susanna Rossi, who was both a licensed psychologist and therapist, came into my life three years ago.

She was a perfect match, from her love of stationery to her sarcastic sense of humor that rivaled mine.

It also helped that she’d been fresh out of her Ph.D.

program before I became her patient, making her one of the youngest people in the office.

On top of that, she did both talk therapy for my anxiety and cognitive therapy for my compulsions. I’d be a mess without her.

Well, I was still a mess. But she helped to some degree.

Susanna cleared her throat. “We need to talk about your week if you want to play UNO.”

I frowned. “Why can’t we switch it up?”

“We switched it up last time, and we almost ran out of time to do the actual therapy.”

It wasn’t the worst thing . I stared at my wedged heels. “Can we do cognitive therapy first?” We always did talk therapy first, but for once, I’d much rather focus on my compulsions than my pathetic family life.

The beginning of the year rolled in with Dad, a real estate developer, getting accused of committing tax evasion. If he was proven guilty, he’d be thrown into federal prison. Deep down, I believed he hadn’t done anything wrong, but you could never be sure.

I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

It didn’t help that my dad wasn’t just some random real estate developer in town.

He was Manuel Vermont, one of the most well-known people in real estate in all of Nevada.

I couldn’t get through the school day without the whispers around the halls or the anxious questions from people I barely knew.

I’d never been the most popular girl—my sister was a better candidate for that—but the past few months had revealed that more people knew about my family than I’d thought they had.

Yeah, I’d love to go back to living in anonymity.

Susanna sighed, not fighting me on this one. “Okay. But we’re still going to talk right after.”

I cracked a small smile. I’d won this time.

I told her about my most recent impulses, and we went through a few rounds of cognitive therapy. My mind wasn’t used to doing this without the talk therapy first, and it showed in my performance.

“Okay, now that we have that covered,” Susanna said, opening her notebook, “is there anything specific you want to talk about?”

“Not really.” I wanted to do anything but talk about the specifics. “But I can’t stop thinking about my family.”

She nodded, sympathy in her eyes. “Tell me about it.”

Something about her caring nature made me start rambling about my family. I mostly focused on my parents and how they were slipping away from each other. Dad was home all the time now—obviously—but the strain of the house arrest sent Mom into a darker spiral .

Around three years ago, Mom started having mental health issues when her parents filed for divorce after being married for four decades in their home in Venice, California.

She’d suffered from drinking issues before she met Dad, who helped her on her journey to becoming sober.

With her family in shambles, she started going out to the gazebo every night with a drink.

Now her drinking was an addiction she tried to keep under control but couldn’t.

I just wanted my family back.

When Susanna finished taking notes, she sat beside me. “You’re okay if I sit here, right?”

“You’re my therapist, not a creepy guy from a bar. And I much prefer you to one, too.”

She snorted. “Even in crisis, you’re still Raina Vermont.”

I giggled before giving her a hug. It was usually unprofessional for therapists to hug their patients, but right now, I needed Susanna more than ever. I needed someone I could vent to without being embarrassed, someone who knew my brain so well.

She broke out of the hug after a few moments, brushing her curls back. “Anything else you want to get out?”

I shook my head, inching away from her. “I think I got out everything I want for now. Any chance we can play UNO?”

“We still have twenty minutes left of the session.”

I sighed before giving her my best puppy eyes. “We can make up for the time next session. I promise.”

“You’re begging me like I’m your mom.”

“You are my second mom.” And my only mom who could function.

She sighed, holding up her hands. “I better not get fired for this.”

I gave her a grin. “I don’t think you’re going to get fired for losing a game of UNO. But you never know. ”

She scoffed, shaking her head with a smile. “Challenge accepted.”

Arielle’s white Audi pulled up outside of the building a minute after my meeting with Susanna ended. I hopped into the passenger’s side and searched through my purse to make sure I had everything with me.

You know, other than my sanity. That was long gone.

“How did it go?” Arielle asked, waiting for me to finish examining my bag. “Did you beat Susanna in UNO again?”

“Of course I did.” I stopped rummaging through my purse before shuffling through it again. I never was able to shake the feeling of something missing. Not until I reached four times.

Arielle patiently waited for me, shifting to my favorite radio station. Over the years, she’d gained more patience with my OCD and did her best to make things easier for me. We went from being sisters who were always at each other’s throats to best friends.