The Right Thing

The Right Thing

The counselor was late for our appointment. I sat ion one of the hard plastic chairs in the office that, despite a few squirming attempts to arrange myself, continued to be uncomfortable. I glanced at the boy who sat beside me, my partner in crime. He looked upset and unsure, wounded by the decision that we had finally made out of desperation. Friends for many years, we now offered each other a little comfort as we sat lost in our own thoughts and doubt.
My tingling nerves heightened my scenes, and I took in everything around me. From the smell of freshly sharpened pencils to the sight of the overly organized desk, the room oozed with the aura of disciplined junior high school counselor and I found myself again questioning our judgment in choosing a complete stranger to help save our friend.
She entered in a cloud of smiles and apologies for being late. Sitting down across from us, she looked at us expectantly. I felt as if she were waiting for us t...