Curtain Call (10 page)

****

Twenty minutes later we pulled up to an old brick building near downtown. I recognized it as an old movie theater. As we climbed out, I gave Angela a curious look. She grinned at me.

“Come on,” she said. “The counseling center is on the top floor. It's really cool, you'll love it.”

We climbed a set of stairs covered in worn red carpet. Although the interior space was divided into various offices, some of the original theater features remained. My attention was drawn to the ornate banister with little scenes carved every few feet. Little remnants of a time long past.

Angela led me into a pleasant room that had been converted. Original sconces lined the burnt orange walls that enclosed the large, comfortable space. Folding screens partitioned the room into seven or eight counseling spaces that contained overstuffed green and gray striped chairs. A thin woman with a long white braid coiled around her head greeted us.

“Molly, this is my friend, Hannah. I thought she could help out today,” Angela said by way of introduction.

A frown flickered across Molly's face. Then she smiled. “It's not what we usually do, but I suppose you could field some simple issues,” Molly said.

Relief washed over me. “Yes, simple issues would work,” I agreed.

“Now if you decide you want to become a peer counselor, you'll have to go through training, but for today we'll have you sign the confidentiality agreement, and I'll go over some basic ground rules with you.” Molly hustled over to a desk heaped with papers and began searching for what she needed.

Angela showed me where to set our things while we waited for Molly to get organized. “I'm really nervous about this,” I admitted.

“Don't be,” Angela said. “You'll be fine, and Molly won't give you anyone too serious. Like I said, you'll probably get to listen to someone whine about their roommate. No big deal. Just listen.”

I nodded. The way she said it made me feel like I could do it. Molly handed me a clipboard and a pen. “Fill these top three sheets out and sign the confidentiality agreement on the back,” she said. “I have twenty minutes to get you through a crash course.”

With a nervous giggle rattling in my throat, I filled out the paperwork. I sat on the closest chair to Molly's desk. Several times I had to get up to rummage through my backpack for various bits of information including my driver's license number and my class schedule. Why couldn't I memorize these things? Especially the class schedule. I still looked at my little printed piece of paper one or two dozen times a day because I could never quite remember the classroom assignment even this far into the semester.

Molly looked over my paperwork then gave me some basic rules and pointers. She led me to a little nook across the room. “I'll set you up here,” she said. “The only people you'll counsel today are people who just need someone to listen to their frustrations. Roommate issues, class or work problems.”

I sank into one of the chairs in my section to look through the handbook Molly had given me. Other peer counselors began to arrive and settle into their areas, and the room began to buzz with activity.

The handbook described two types of peer counseling. One seemed to be weekly sessions with the same person. The other seemed to be on a walk-in basis. Obviously I would be participating in the walk-in style counseling. The door opened and a few people trickled in. Molly greeted each one quietly, and directed them to various counselors. I tried not to watch or stare, but I was curious about the people seeking out this peer counseling service. I was a little surprised to see they all seemed totally normal. I had no idea what I thought people seeking counseling would look like, but I supposed I had thought that the students would skulk in, maybe ashamed…like me. The thought jolted me.

As I peered around the room, I realized that all the girls here were so much braver than I was. Not once in all this time of confusion and heartbreak and angst had I considered getting counseling. “Hannah? This is Christy,” Molly said, appearing suddenly by my side with a petite girl who fidgeted with her short blonde hair.

“Hi,” I said. “Um, have a seat.”

Christy sat down across from me. She was so small the chair looked like it would swallow her whole. She shrugged out of her hot pink winter coat and set her small white purse on her lap. I studied her while she took her time to get comfortable. I had no idea why she was there, but I hoped it was something simple. Molly had promised me issues I could handle without formal training. This would be fine.

I swallowed my nerves and worked a smile onto my face. “So, Christy, what brings you in today?” I asked.

She tucked her hair behind her ears and said, “I heard that you guys give advice on things. Like, life things.”

“That's what we're here for,” I said with a nod.

Christy bit her lip. She looked at her hands, which she folded and unfolded on her lap. “The thing is…um, I need to talk about sex,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

My heart sank and my stomach twisted. Panic set in, causing bile to rise in my throat. I couldn't advise some girl on sex. Molly had tricked me. Where was she anyway? I had to get her to switch this poor girl to someone who could handle her situation. When my gaze slid toward Christy, I saw her watching me curiously. I forced myself to calm down. It wasn't Christy's fault that I was a messy bundle of nerves. Molly had given her to me, so her problem couldn't be too bad.

With a deep breath, I asked, “What exactly do you want to talk about?”

She shifted in her chair, finally toeing off her boots and tucking her feet up under her. Christy leaned back looking prim and proper and young. “The thing is,” she began, “my mom left when I was, like, a baby. And I have an older sister, but she's not much help on stuff like this. She's been on like three dates in her whole life. So, I need some advice. That's what you're here for, no?”

“I can give you some advice,” I said slowly. Then I repeated, “Can you tell me exactly what you want advice about?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Christy said with a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “I guess, um, how do you know when you're ready? To have sex?”

The earlier panic returned, but looking into Christy's earnest face, I took a moment to consider her question. I wanted to help her here. Maybe she could benefit from my own confusion.

“A lot of people say you'll just know,” I said. “And I guess that's true. I'll tell you something, though. I wasn't ready, and it pretty much ruined my relationship.”

I winced as I told her that because it wasn't the whole truth, but this girl was a virtual stranger, and she didn't need to hear the whole complicate mess I had made of my life.

Christy tilted her head to one side thoughtfully and asked, “So why'd you do it? I mean, I know that's personal and stuff, but I have so many friends who think I should just go find some random guy and get it over with. But…it just seems like a really big deal.”

“I wish I had a good answer for you,” I said. “The truth is my boyfriend and I did it because we'd been together a long time, and it just seemed like it was time. A lot of my friends teased me about it. I had planned on waiting until we got married. I don't even know why. I just had this picture in my head of how incredibly romantic it would be. And then I didn't, and things got way more complicated than I could manage to handle so we took a break. We're still on a break.” I paused feeling shaky after sharing but curious to see how Christy would react to my experience. She was watching me solemnly. When she didn't say anything, I asked, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Christy shook her head causing her bright blonde hair to fly around her face. “No, my dad thinks I'm too young to date. I'm only a freshman.”

That seemed odd to me. Who listened to their dad's advice at this age? Unless…I took another good look at Christy, and all the pieces fell into place. My mouth dropped open, and I gasped. “You're a freshman in
high school?
”

“Well, yeah,” Christy said, annoyance creeping into her tone. “There's no sign on the door that says the peer counseling is only for college students. Wait, oh! You aren't going to call my dad or something are you? Because I'm a minor? I can
not
have him know I was here or what we are talking about. It would kill him. Please don't call him, okay? I'll go right now. I'm sorry I bothered you.”

Christy moved to grab her boots with a wild-eyed look that freaked me out a bit. The manual actually did have a whole chapter on doing peer counseling with high schoolers. I had skimmed it briefly like all the other chapters.

“Sit down, sit down,” I said, reaching out and gripping her arm gently but firmly. “I'll look up our policy. I'm sure it doesn't involve calling your dad. We have a lot of confidentiality waivers.”

“Okay,” Christy said. I could hear the reluctance in her voice, but something told me to keep her here, so we could continue with the counseling. I had a feeling I could make a big difference with her. She reminded me so much of Hayley when she was younger. My big sister instinct kicked in, and I instantly felt protective. I had helped Hayley a time or two when she was this age.

I picked up the book and skimmed the chapter, feeling my heart sink. “Your dad has to sign a waiver for you to have counseling here.”

Christy's eyes got shiny, and she kept blinking like she was trying to brush the tears away with her eyelashes. “I can't do that. He's so protective of us. If he knew I was even thinking about sex, it would give him a heart attack or something.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” I said. “You don't have to tell him why you are here. You just need him to sign the waiver. How'd you hear about us anyway?”

“My guidance counselor recommended I come here because I didn't want to talk to him about this,” Christy said with a shrug. “I mean, really, the dude is older than my grandfather. Not exactly how I pictured getting advice on the birds and the bees.”

“Okay,” I said. “Just tell your dad that your guidance counselor recommended us, have him sign the waiver, and you can set up a time to come back if you want to.”

“That sounds good,” Christy agreed. She rummaged around in her purse then pulled out a little pocket calendar. “When are you free?”

I looked at her in surprise. “You want to talk to me again?”

My heart hammered as adrenaline pumped through my veins. Had I actually made a connection with this girl? Could I really help her? What sort of role model could I be when I was so messed up myself? I didn't care about the doubts that nagged at me. Somehow I had been given a chance to make a difference and that felt amazing. More amazing than I had felt in a long time. Maybe our little chat today had opened the door to the possibility of delving deeper. Maybe I could help both of us at the same time.

Christy nodded. “I don't want to talk to anyone else. Obviously I can only come after school.”

“Let's go talk to Molly,” I suggested.

We found the counseling director at her desk, and as we set up a time, I realized I felt more like myself than I had in a long time. Something about taking control, and admittedly, something about giving advice, made me feel like I was making my own choices again. Christy and I parted ways then. I needed to wait for Angela anyway so I looked at Molly and said, “So…when can we start that training?”