Harold still didn't come back, explaining the fact that I still couldn't find him. What the heck was wrong? I wondered. Why wasn't he at school? Was it because of that Una girl....... Was it because of me?
I decided I'd talk to my therapist. I sat down by my therapist at recess. "What do I do, Chris? Do you think he left because of me?"
Chris was silent, so I went on. "I just don't know what to think. Did I wreck that kid's life somehow? I just don't understand."
Chris the therapist spoke, "Angela, it's not your fault that Harold has stopped attending this school. Maybe he's sick, maybe he's playing Hooky, maybe he's going to another school."
I bit my lip when he said the last part. I didn't want him to go to another school, I wanted to get to know him. My brain felt like it had just been set to Overdrive.
I groaned. "What should i do?"
"Well," Chris said, "I don't think there's anything you, or we, could do to force him to come back-"
"But I don't want to force him back, I want him to come back...." I interrupted.
Chris sighed, running his fingers through his hair like Dad and Leo do when they're thinking. "You know what I say, Angie- um, Angela. I say that you just wait and see if Harold comes back. I say this because his coming back is not for us to control and frankly, it's not really much of our business, anyway." I hate when he's right.
I stood up and shook Chris's hand, "Thank you, Dr. Harper." I said.
He smiled, seeming to like that title. "Pleasure to work with you, Angela." I love how Chris always tries to be all formal, when in reality, he's the most childish 15-year-old I know (Hint: Most 15-year-olds don't still have a full box of My Little Ponies and cry every time your mother tries to sneak them out to the garbage).