Page 60 of Pride High 3: Yellow

“As you wish,” Dr. Sharma responded, not seeming bothered by his attitude. “You scold the puppy and don’t allow it any treats for a month. And yet, when given the chance, the puppy digs another hole and runs off again. Really imagine that you love this dog. What breed is it, by the way?”

“A Saint Bernard,” Ricky said instantly. He’d never met one in person, but they looked so big and cuddly, and he loved how in cartoons they wore a little barrel around their neck.

“So what would you do,” Dr. Sharma continued, “if the puppy escaped and returned with mud-caked fur that was full of burrs?”

“I guess we’d have to improve the fence. Or train the puppy so that it didn’t…” Ricky narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Actually, I’d probably recognize that even a dog has needs that are important to it, or else it wouldn’t keep running away. So I would try to workwithmy puppy—who I’m naming Barkley, by the way—to figure out what makes him happiest.”

Dr. Sharma nodded. “That will take time. What if he escapes again before then and something worse happens?”

Ricky tensed. “Like what?”

“Suppose he gets hit by a car?”

“Barkley!” Ricky cried out, before remembering who the dog was supposed to represent. “That would be bad, but what if I kept him indoors and Barkley got so depressed that he stopped eating? What if he got so sad that he drank from his own whisky barrel, when normally, he’s not into that sort of thing at all?”

“That is indeed a risk,” Dr. Sharma said. “Raising a puppy sounds like hard work. You would probably lose sleep trying to figure out the best plan of action. And imagine if Barkley began to resent you for wanting to keep him safe.”

Ricky swallowed, her point striking home, even though he’d done his best to parry and dodge.

“That gives you some idea of your mother’s perspective,” Dr. Sharma continued. “Tell me yours.”

Ricky took a deep breath. “I’m trying to follow the rules. I’ve made mistakes, but that’s all they were. I didn’twantto get high. For real! I honestly didn’t know that the cookies had weed in them. Not at first. I hate that my mom ate one. It must have freaked her out. At least I had someone there who knew what was going on. Diego was so nice about it too.” He remembered how it felt to be held in his arms and wished they still had that freedom. “I really like him.”

“Good!” Dr. Sharma said encouragingly, although for a different reason. “You’re not trying to upset your parents. And you’re right, mistakes happen. But we still have to accept the consequences of those mistakes, and allow other people to have their legitimate reactions. Your mother wants to keep you safe. Because she loves you. Hold on to that perspective going forth.”

Ricky nodded. “I will.”

“Excellent. Now then, let’s talk about Jeremiah.”

That surprised him. Ricky thought she’d want to hear more about Diego, not the guy he’d dated back in Colorado.

“Were you very compatible?” Dr. Sharma asked.

“Yeah!” Ricky said. “We liked the same video games, watched the same TV shows, and we always had fun when we were together. Even if there was nothing to do. We’d just talk and laugh about stuff. I don’t think I was ever bored around him.”

“That sounds lovely,” Dr. Sharma said. “He must have seemed like your soulmate.”

“At the time, yeah,” Ricky said. “I honestly thought we’d get married someday.”

“If you could travel back in time to when you first met him, what would you tell yourself?”

“To wait for someone else,” Ricky said, thinking of Diego again.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” Dr. Sharma asked. “We’re capable of feeling so certain about these things. And yet…”

“You think Diego isn’t right for me?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Dr. Sharma replied, “but if we continue playing our point-of-view game, would you drive him around while drunk or high? That isn’t a rhetorical question. I really want to know.”

“I wouldn’t,” Ricky said grudgingly. “Because I wouldn’t want him to get hurt.”

“Fascinating how universal love can be,” Dr. Sharma said. “Whether it’s for an imaginary puppy, a child, or a boyfriend. In a healthy relationship, you steer the other person away from peril, not toward it.”

“You know why though,” Ricky said, his voice cracking. “I’ve told you how bad Diego’s life has been. He lost his dad, his mom went crazy, and his friends abandoned him. Diego needs me!”

Dr. Sharma nodded encouragingly. “I believe in helping other people. I’ve made it my life’s work. And I’m pleased that you’ve already taken his point of view into consideration. Hold on to that as well and recognize that he might not always have your best interests at heart.” She held up a hand to stop the protest on his lips. “Not because he’s a bad person. Diego hasn’t been shown the same love your mother gives you, and thus, he hasn’t learned the same skills. I’m not saying you should abandon him, but youcantry to guide Diego toward a safer path.”

“Would you talk to him?” Ricky pleaded. “You’re better at this. Please! I bet after a single session you’ll have solved all his problems. Or taught him the skills he needs to figure out everything on his own. Like you do for me.”