Our Camp Days (Complete)

[Baby Billy]

I think having his mom meeting Kris is going be a turning point.  It looks like Kris has been getting a lot more insight into Sidney,s personality and behavior than the doctors and his parents.  At least his mom is really trying to understand what it is between the two.  I hope his father does not cause problems between the two of them,  Right now I don't know what Kris wants in a relationship with Sidney I hope he just wants a friend that he wants to help.   

[Wannatripbaby]

On 6/14/2020 at 1:52 PM, Sophie ♥ said:

Chapter 25

Sorry I'm a little behind on my reading. Been super busy/stressed getting ready for my first ever Flight to meet some of my Littles for the very first time! ??? Currently sitting in the airport and I thought, "what better time to catch up with my favorite smut writers?" ???

 

On 6/14/2020 at 1:52 PM, Sophie ♥ said:

I walked home, and what was worse, I touched everything

Whoa. That was unexpected. I feel like this is exactly what Sydney's dad was hoping would happen by sending him to camp. Well, maybe not exactly. But you get what I mean. 

[Sophie ♥]

1 hour ago, Chris Robin said:

I was going to say something more about how Kris' White Knightyness is making me slightly uncomfortable 

Kris is a very direct and pragmatic person.  It's interesting, because he has been learning Sidney so slowly over time and has spent months without trying to get in touch.  This is probably the least pushy Kris has ever been in his life. XD In a way, they both help each other be better people.

[Baby Billy]

I know this is coming to the  closure of this story and I really hope things work out.  Sidney does not want that to happen that much is clear, I just don't know what the goal in this relationship is for Kris.  I hope all he wants in the end is to help his friend accept himself and be happy with who he is.  I really do not want to see Kris as trying to make Sidney something he can't handle.  I think in the end they could, with the help of Linda become great friend like two brother bonded for life.  I am hopeful this works out Sophie but we have to wait and see.  I think that even with Anne taking her life she had a little peace in knowing Star, one can only hope at least one person in our life brings us that joy.  I would say that Kris is really a special person, other than my family ( mother, sister and brother ) I have never loved a person so much that I would put the effort into that Kris has getting close and understanding Sidney.  That is the kind of action one can only have with one they want the bond and relationship that goes for life no matter what.  

[Sophie ♥]

Chapter 27

We followed the woman down to the car; she was cheerful and bubbly and a lot more so now that I was carrying the trunk. What had she packed?! Sidney was still fuming quietly, his cheeks puffed out and his arms crossed over his chest, but he didn't make any stand or motion to stop me as we got to the car. I put the trunk into the... trunk, and then pulled the little package of wipes out of my pocket and opened the back door, quickly wiping down the seats so he could sit down. Linda watched me, curiously, and when I stepped away to let Sidney sit, I noticed he was blushing. Oh, I missed that.

I snatched the package of wipes from Kris with an aggravated look. I didn't mind him wiping the seat down for me, admittedly, but I was still angry that he wouldn't tell me what was going on. This was my life we were talking about! This was our relationship! If I could fix this, we could be together. And now I was getting my hopes up. And I probably misheard. I shut my eyes and shook my head. Calm down, Sidney...

Once the car was driving, I took the phone from Sidney’s hand and tapped in a message. "I'm going to tell you everything when we get to your room - I want you to be able to talk. Settle, okay? Your Mom can't see this far down, by the way, so if you want to hold hands we can." I handed the phone back to him and then laid my hand out on his thigh in offering.

I shook my head. Don't get your hopes up, remember, Sidney? If something goes wrong... if I can't get better... then all this will destroy you. You aren't fixable. Broken. The way ceramics are. So I sat there awkwardly, playing with the wipes in my hands, as my mother drove Kris to our home.

We didn't waste much time when we got there; Sidney was urgently keen to get me to his bedroom and when we got there, he closed the door behind himself. I wasn't sure if he'd be able to talk yet, so I picked up a few wipes and began to clean my hands while I spoke.

"There's two main behavioral therapies for what you have. Uh. There's ERP which I was telling you about. And then there's this other new one, called associative splitting. It's like... when you think about something that triggers anxiety, you figure out why it does. So like, you're afraid of rain, so you figure out the association and association is that rain has bacteria in it. Bacteria is associated to sickness. But you think about good bacteria, like those in yoghurt. Or those in your body that fight off infections. You think about the things you're afraid of and try to reassociate them. There wasn't much about that in my textbooks, though, 'cause it's newer. Most people are treated with ERP..." I was nervous talking so much about a field I only understood from books, but it was a start and he seemed fascinated.

I shook my head, looking back at the door. Closed. Windows. Closed. Everything was safe. Everything was clean. Even him. Even me. His clothes, too. Probably not mine, because of school, but... we were fine. Here. Safe.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Kris." My voice was soft. It wouldn't even echo through the door I was standing next to. I stepped away from it and toward my bed. I was embarrassed having him in my room. It wasn't messy - quite the contrary - but it was an intimate space. "What do you mean, what I have?"

There was an uneasy silence as I waited to see if he had more to say, but he was genuinely confused. "Uh. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I think so, anyway. I actually spoke to one of my friend’s older sisters about you, and she's doing her doctorate in psych right now. She said it was absolutely OCD. And she said it's manageable, too. Not curable, I mean... you're always going to have your quirks. But you can have your quirks be less intense. Preferences and not requirements. You know all this though, right? I mean, you've got a doctor, I think you said in one of your letters?”

I had some... psych disorder? I shook my head, half to myself and half in disbelief.

"No... I... I mean, yeah. I have a doctor. But I don't have that. Whatever it is. My doctor would have told me." But he thought I had depression. And I didn't. I shook my head again, confused. I wasn't a doctor. What did I know? I should trust mine. But I didn't. But I didn't have that thing. I knew I didn't. Because someone would have told me. My mom. Or a doctor. Or... someone. I shook my head over and over.

"It's often misdiagnosed in children because a lot of the signs, like anxiousness and nervousness are typical signs of childhood depression. And then when kids grow up the doctors don't think to re-diagnose. Veronica showed me a list of criteria and you meet most of them, definitely enough for a diagnosis." I couldn't believe nobody had suggested this to him.

I frowned and shook my head, stepping back from the bed and pacing the room. I had... some other diagnosis. Some medical thing. A medical thing that made me afraid of touching things? A medical thing that made me clean? That didn't make sense. I wanted to do it. I didn't want to want to do it. But I wanted it. I kept shaking my head.

"Doesn't make sense... someone would have..."

"It makes all sorts of sense, actually; I thought you knew?" I picked up my phone off the bed and started typing some things in, then read aloud. "To be diagnosed with OCD, a person must have obsessions, compulsions, or both, according to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. The Quick Reference to the 2000 edition of the DSM states that several features characterize clinically significant obsessions and compulsions." I stopped to look up at the boy; he'd stopped pacing and was listening now. Listening very closely. "Such obsessions, the DSM says, are recurrent and persistent thoughts, impulses, or images that are experienced as intrusive and that cause marked anxiety or distress. These thoughts, impulses, or images are of a degree or type that lies outside the normal range of worries about conventional problems."

"Like germs..." I was in awe. I had this? This could be what I had? This made things so much easier! I could get medicine! Real medicine! I could have a cure! I could get better! And Kris and I could be together. My head was spinning. This was so surreal. So many happy thoughts. "What's the treatment? How do I get cured?"

"Uh, some people respond well to certain drugs used for depression but that's rare. And you said you tried those, right?" He nodded and I continued. "So the usual treatment is called cognitive behavioral therapy. I told you a bit about it, like exposure in small bursts. But they also said that in adolescent cases, there's this thing called thought stopping where you say, out loud, 'stop' in mid- thought to interrupt the obsession. It doesn't work in adults usually though, I don't know why. But there's a wide range of ways to manage this stuff. It's pretty much all I've learned since summer... all my other grades crashed cause I was fixated on this stuff." I smiled guiltily and shrugged, though. "Don't feel bad; it's a stressful time in general at home with Mom and Dad and all that crap; so my grades would've crashed anyway."

I nodded softly. It wouldn't be an easy fix. It might not be a fix at all. But maybe we could kiss. Maybe I could go to a theme park. Or maybe go out in the rain, even if I had an umbrella. I could improve, at the very least.

"Go tell my mom I want to see a doctor tomorrow. One for... that stuff. One that's good with that stuff. I want it tomorrow. No excuses. Okay? Please?"

"I can come along, if you want? My schedule is free for a while." Not strictly true. My schedule was free in that I was here and my Mom had no way of stopping me staying here. But he didn't need to know that. "I don't have to, but maybe you'll be more comfortable if I am? I can talk for you, too. Tell them everything I know, and I'm probably the best person for reading you when you want to interject, too."

I nodded my head. "Yeah. I can't talk to doctors. Or, I couldn't talk to my other one. Is the talking thing OCD too?" This was the first I was hearing about it. Hearing about a possible disease I had. That was what the D stood for, right? New information. A lead. A way I could potentially get better, even a little. Maybe enough for Kris.

"The talking is anxiety based I think... when certain people get too anxious they become mute. And your anxiety is always always high because of the OCD. So we settle the OCD down, and you might be able to talk, too." I smiled. I was fucking proud of myself. Of course I might be entirely wrong and the doctor could prove that tomorrow; but right now I saw something new in my boyfriend’s eyes. Hope.

"Does this mean we get to date soon?" I smiled and wandered out of the bedroom to talk with his Mom before he had a chance to answer. Gosh I missed his voice.

I didn't follow him, necessarily. I just wanted to listen. I didn't want him to give my mom false hope, and I think he was smart enough not to. Still, I wanted to make sure she knew what she was doing. Taking me to a real doctor - one who understood what was happening. One that could help. So I stood at the top of the stairs and listened, trying to make out what Kris was saying.

*     *     *     *     *

"It's a really serious condition called Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. He really needs a doctor who has a lot of experience in this stuff, and not one that's going to just give him drugs and call it depression." I wasn't a condescending person, but I did want to get the facts straight; even though it was his Mom. She frowned a little.

"But he is depressed, can't you tell?"

"Depression is a side effect, not the cause. He needs a therapist, someone he can see regularly and maybe once a week or more. Someone specializing in uh... cognitive behavioral therapy." It was a lot for her to take in, but she was quiet for a time, her palms pressed flat against the countertop.

"Can it be cured? Can he ever be normal?"

"Pardon my french, ma'am, but normal is a fucked up word." She looked up and I continued. “Words like 'normal' just propagate shame. I read that. You shouldn't say 'you'll be normal soon'. Or 'fixed'. You use terms like 'soon you'll be more in control' or 'you'll be able to manage this better'." She would have been pissed at my choice of language, ordinarily, I think. But she understood my point, and she nodded.

"I'll make some calls."

"Yeah, for tomorrow. I'm going to go along, so I can drive. Just make sure to ask about OCD and CBT. I'll be upstairs." I think Linda was a bit shaken by my brazenness, but she also seemed to appreciate that I'd laid everything out for her in a very matter-of-fact manner.

*     *     *     *     *

I smiled a little bit at Kris as he climbed up the stairs. When he finally reached me, I put my hand in his and led the way back to my room. I closed the door before I spoke a little “thank you" and left his hand to find my pajamas.

Seeing him smile made my heart skip a beat, and I sat down on the edge of his bed just as before. The fact he didn't even know what he had was so significant... he never could have won with the information he had. I think he knew that, too.

"Do you want me to go back to the hotel?" I wasn't sure how his parents would react to me sharing his bed and I didn't want to be presumptuous, despite how badly I longed to cuddle up to Sidney and hold him the way we used to.

"No, it's okay. And anyway, my mom drove us, remember? It's not like you have a car." It was a valid point and I saw the little smile form on Kris' lips. "Change into pajamas before bed, okay? I have some in my top drawer." My bed was a very safe spot. I wasn't going to let him wear something that was potentially dirty.

There was a smile on my face and I nodded my head, hopping up off the bed and slipping down to my underwear. I washed my hands thoroughly before opening his top drawer, and then pulled out a matched set of dark red pajamas. I looked for approval over my shoulder and he nodded, and then I slipped into the pants and started to button up the long-sleeved top. It occurred to me that all his pjs were probably winter pjs for the coverage.

"How do I look?" I turned around and smirked; I was a lot bigger than he was, but they were still a pretty good fit.

"Like you grew a foot overnight." The pajama pants showed off his ankles and the sleeves barely touched his wrists the way they covered my hands. Still, it fit. That was enough. And I was exhausted, though I had passed out earlier. I learned anxiety sleep is nothing like real sleep. Kris crawled into bed next to me and I turned off the bedside light. The room lit up in a little glow with the four precariously placed nightlights.

"I like your bedroom; it’s like a little sanctuary. I resolve to spend more time here." I smiled, though in the dim light of the night-lights it was probably unseen, and shuffled down beneath the covers. "In my dreams? You sleep cuddled up to my side, with your head on my chest and your arm draped across my stomach. Dream-you said it made him feel safe."

"Alright. I'll give it a try, I suppose." I always slept on my side anyway, so it wasn't too surreal for me. Kris's arm turned into my pillow, though, and that was a little uncomfortable. Still, with my knee and one arm over the boy next to me, it really wasn't that bad. Maybe even comfortable. And the smell of the fabric softener my mom used quelled any of my anxieties. Clean.

“It’s wonderful to see you again.” He didn't say anything else past that, though, and neither did I. We both settled down into what must have been the best night's sleep that either of us had experienced since the summer had ended. Well, I thought so anyway. This time when I had my dreams, the waking up part wasn't fraught with disappointment.

-------------

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[Baby Billy]

That was great, Kris getting Sidney in his room so they could talk was perfect.  I already guessed what Sidney has, I love watching Monk and he has the same thing in the show.  I hope Linda can find a doctor that understands it and is willing to see him the next day.  I am worried about his father finding out Kris is in Sidney,s room for the night, hopefully Linda can keep him out of the way.?

[Wannatripbaby]

On 6/15/2020 at 10:39 AM, Sophie ♥ said:

Chapter 26

Ooooooo dinner party! This'll be fun. ?

[Sophie ♥]

Chapter 28

I was up before Kris, like usual. The sun hadn't even come out by the time I slipped out of bed. I'd probably woken him, so I whispered a small "go back to sleep" before venturing to my closet door and stepping in. My walk in had a light of it's own and it made this particular morning very convenient. I closed the door behind me, the room still lit by nightlight, and flicked on the orb above my head. Maybe I'd cook breakfast - that way I could actually eat for once.

As was typical for me, I was awake the moment had roused from his slumber and I let my eyes creep open as he closed the door to his walk-in closet. I was actually sort've envious that he was afforded such a luxury, but figured that it was rightfully so - he'd been deprived in so many other areas. Realistically I was one of the boys few saving graces in his life - though I didn't like to consider myself so highly. I rolled over in his bed and yawned lightly before sitting up and taking stock of the room. He was a very particular boy; but his bedroom vaguely resembled most any other teenage boys room. Just... cleaner.

The sounds beyond the closet door were lost on me as I tiptoed around the brightness of the closet, trying to find something to wear. I didn't have many clothes, and it was probably a blessing. I wasn't very good with decisions. I had a lot of my own hospital gowns and scrubs from my early years, which still fit miraculously well. And I had an assortment of outdated halloween costumes though I never went out of the house to trick or treat. I finally picked a nice button down and took off my pajama top.

I didn't have a change of clothes to slip into - a pretty severe oversight. I considered doing laundry to wash and dry my clothes from yesterday; but it was woefully early and that could present issues with Sidney’s parents. For now, I sat on the edge of the bed in the red pajamas and stretched my toes; noting that my perfectly clean feet needed to be cleaned. Wow. Was this OCD stuff contagious? I stood up, wandering to the closet door and knocking softly.

"Morning, peach."

I jumped a little at the rapping on the door and let out a little sigh. He opened the closet door a second later and I moved a step further in. It wasn't a big closet - not big enough to fit two people comfortably - but big enough to stand in a slightly awkward kind of way. I didn't say anything as I buttoned up my shirt and he perused my outfits. To be fair, I probably shouldn't have let him do that.

"You're really cute in the morning; hair all messed up, cheeks kinda red and puffy." I smiled and ran my hands through Sidney’s hair, straightening it out somewhat and combing it with my fingers. My hands were clean - his hair was clean; I knew he'd be okay with the idea. Well, as okay as he tended to get.

"How'd you sleep? I had the best night sleep I've had since camp."

"Yeah. Short. But I slept fine." I couldn't have gotten more than five or six hours of sleep, but I felt rested enough. I supposed my fainting from the day before was more helpful than I thought. I didn't say another word while I tossed the old shirt into the hamper at the end of my closet and pulled a pair of jeans off the top shelf. Crisp. Almost new.

As I expected, Sidney took particular satisfaction in picking out items of clothing that looked as though they'd just been made. Not even 'just off the shelf', but literally 'just been made'. It brought a smile to my face, and I took great pleasure in watching him sigh contentedly. I looked around the closet, my eyes tracing his possessions idly. Most guys had things they'd rather people didn't see, but that didn't seem very Sidney-like. He had enough worries in his little world.

"No secrets in your closet? No lost letters of love from a time you thought you liked girls?" I smiled; he knew I was teasing and I knew he'd blush. It was a good dynamic.

I looked up at my shelves and back at Kris. "Not really. Who writes letters anymore, anyway? That's what the internet is for." The irony in the statement was obvious. And, truth be told, now I had letters to hide away, letters from Kris. I didn't mention it, though we were both thinking it.

"I'm gonna go cook us some breakfast." I kissed his cheek before I let him go, making my way downstairs with the pair of jeans still in my hands. It wasn't until I'd made it to the kitchen downstairs, the darkness easily combatted by the nightlights throughout the house, that I changed out of my pajamas and into the jeans. I flicked the lights on and started to cook.

First and foremost, I put on a pair of plastic gloves beneath the counter. They were a necessity when I was cooking. I never liked eggs, but I made them anyway. The bread was fresh and sealed, so I started on toast, leaving myself two pieces of bread for a sandwich. Toast didn't work for me. Toasters were never clean. Sausage I could do, though, so I threw a whole package into a frying pan.

The issue of what I was going to wear still hadn't been addressed, so I wound up taking my clothes downstairs - noting that all the bedrooms were upstairs anyway − and found my way to the laundry. The clock on the wall showed that we still had plenty of time, so I dumped my clothes into the washer, added a liberal amount of detergent, and then started the cycle. The washing machine was actually pretty quiet, too, and I wondered if that was a product of Sidney constantly needing to wash. I wandered wearily about the house until I got to the kitchen, and took a seat at the table while Sidney cooked.

I couldn't talk, and that sucked. Still, it was nice to have company. I passed Kris a plate of eggs while I continued to cook - they were scrambled since I didn't know how to make any other kind of eggs. Eventually, after an additional eight eggs, 10 pieces of toast, and 20 links of sausages (plus a peanut butter sandwich for myself), I turned off the burners and started to do the dishes. Diligently.

I stood up in anticipation and began to make my way to where he stood, doing the dishes. At least if I helped, he'd still be able to enjoy a moderately warm meal.

The help was nice. My parents tended to let me do my own thing when it came to cleaning - I had very high expectations and usually, even if they did well, I still did it again anyway. Kris was eager to learn, though, and we'd quickly finished the dishes with red hands from the steaming water. I pointed toward the stairs and put up one finger, leaving him alone to go knock on my parents' bedroom door. The sun was up now, albeit just barely.
I sat at the table in his pajamas, the smell of the food wafting through my senses; it was wonderful. And I wondered what life would be like once Sidney had his condition managed a little better; the idea that he could be able to talk to me in any given place was exciting - the notion that we could kiss trumped it all, though.

It was an annoying three minutes trying to convince my parents to come downstairs, and it was only after prompting from my mother that my dad rolled out of bed. I rolled my eyes and led the way, having already served up plates for everyone. The eggs might be cold by now, but the rest wasn't. It wasn't unusual for me to cook for my parents, but it was the first time since the hospital a month ago.

"Hey Sidney's Mom." I smiled cheerfully, the woman waved as she yawned - his Dad followed in after that and we hadn't met yet. "Hey, I'm Kris. It's really nice to meet you."

"Oh, you're the boy from the camp? Thank you. It takes a special kind of person and a lot of patience to do what you did."

"To be Sidney’s friend? Not really. It's easy as being anybody else's friend, right peach?" Both his parents looked at me at the mention of the pet-name, but neither let their stare linger and the both of them shifted to other topics.

"So, you're going to the doctors today at 9:30. She's a very highly regarded doctor in this field."

"Thanks for getting Sidney the appointment so soon. He's really looking forward to it." Realistically; he probably wasn't. But he was looking forward to being better.

I felt my cheeks heat up at being called 'peach' in front of my parents. I couldn't have been sure, but I was relatively certain my parents assumed the friend I made at camp wasn't someone I intended on kissing. I handed each of my parents a plate and put my sandwich in my mouth. I wasn't sure if my parents knew I could talk to Kris. And if they didn't, I didn't know if they'd react poorly or not. I guess it didn't mater at the moment, anyway, but it made me wonder.

"Well, he's certainly taken a shine to you. Usually he's not so good with other kids."

I was careful with my words, especially given I was talking to the father of my boyfriend. "You know, you shouldn't talk about Sidney like he's not here. Talk to him and engage him. Just because he finds it hard to talk doesn't mean he doesn't want to be a part of the conversion. Right, Sidney?" He had a deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face, but his Dad actually nodded softly in understanding; looking at the boy.

"I'm sorry, son. I wasn't thinking."

Wow. I nodded my head in acknowledgement and looked down at my plate of sausages. I finished my food first, which was no surprise since I had the least amount of it. I started to clean my plate the same way I cleaned the pans. This was normal for me, and I barely felt the burning in my fingertips when I was done.

I wasn't sure if it was more surprising to Sidney’s parents that I'd spoken out against them, or that I got up to join Sidney in his cleaning and cleaned to a standard high enough that he didn't feel compelled to clean what I'd washed again. Regardless, they were in some degree of amazement..

"I'm probably going to take Sidney out to lunch somewhere after the appointment, so we won't be back until late. You have my cell number now, though, right? What are Sidney's insurance details? Will I need anything?" I doted over the boy, I knew, but I wanted to make sure nothing could cause him distress.

I had my insurance card in my wallet - which my mom then pointed out - because I tended to use it a lot more than most people would. My mom would still need to drive us over the highway to get Kris' car from the parking lot of the hotel, but we still had an hour before we realistically needed to leave. 9:30. A doctor's appointment. Maybe one that was actually useful.

A moment later I excused myself to go and get my clothes out of the wash and dump them into the dryer; we had plenty of time still and I figured I'd even take a shower. Just to be on the safe side. With my clothes tumble-drying, I met Sidney at the base of the stairs and spoke soft enough that only we could hear.

"I'm going to have a shower. Wanna join me? Can't imagine any place cleaner than that."

I shook my head, my cheeks hot. Shower together. Ridiculous. I really needed to remind him that we weren't dating. Even if I did have an appointment, it wasn't guaranteed to help. Getting his hopes up wasn't a good idea. It wasn't a good idea to get my hopes up, either. So Kris took his shower on his own and I went back up to my room.

-------------

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[Chris Robin]

Sidney's Dad seems not as harsh in this chapter. Isn't it funny how Sidney got sent to camp because his parents wanted him to make friends and get over his conditions and he made some progress in that direction but Kris' parents sent him there to stop him having a relationship with a boy and that totally backfired.

27 minutes ago, Sophie ♥ said:

Who rights letters anymore, anyway?

... Sophie are you a writer? ?

[Baby Billy]

That was great, Kris getting Sidney in his room so they could talk was perfect.  I already guessed what Sidney has, I love watching Monk and he has the same thing in the show.  I hope Linda can find a doctor that understands it and is willing to see him the next day.  I am worried about his father finding out Kris is in Sidney,s room for the night, hopefully Linda can keep him out of the way.?

I have to agree that Sidney,s father surprised me to.  It also is a surprise they are letting Kris take Sidney to the doctor alone.  

[Wannatripbaby]

On 6/16/2020 at 10:07 AM, Sophie ♥ said:

Chapter 27

 

On 6/16/2020 at 10:07 AM, Sophie ♥ said:

I couldn't believe nobody had suggested this to him.

Me neither, Kris. OCD is such a popular topic in, say, TV shows. Virtually every medical/crime drama has an episode on it. Someone not knowing what OCD is is practically the equivalent of not knowing what Chicken Pox are! 

On 6/16/2020 at 10:07 AM, Sophie ♥ said:

I resolve to spend more time here."

I don't know why, but I really like this line. ?

Grammar Patrol

On 6/16/2020 at 10:07 AM, Sophie ♥ said:

He didn't say anything else past that, though, and either did I

 

On 6/16/2020 at 10:07 AM, Sophie ♥ said:

We both settled down into what must have been the best night sleep that either of us had experienced since the summer had ended.

*Best Night's Sleep, I believe? 

[Sophie ♥]

6 hours ago, Wannatripbaby said:

Grammar Patrol

You can tell when I'm getting sleepy. XD

6 hours ago, Wannatripbaby said:

Me neither, Kris. OCD is such a popular topic in, say, TV shows. Virtually every medical/crime drama has an episode on it. Someone not knowing what OCD is is practically the equivalent of not knowing what Chicken Pox are! 

I worked at a community health center.  You would be AMAZED at the lack of information and plethora of misinformation there is surrounding EXTREMELY TELEVISED mental health conditions.

On 6/18/2020 at 11:00 AM, Chris Robin said:

... Sophie are you a writer? ?

Hardly! XD

[Sophie ♥]

Chapter 29

I couldn't remember the last time a shower had taken as long as this one did; I'd kept clean at home since camp but now I really wanted to impress Sidney so I made sure to be extra thorough; and by the time I got back to his room, wrapped in a towel, my skin was rosy pink all over.

"Hey peach, think you can get my clothes out of the dryer for me?" I didn't ask for very many things; I was more the giving type. But I'd been careless and left my clothes downstairs so I didn't have a great many options anyway.

"Uhhuh." I left Kris alone in my room and ventured down on my own to get his clothes from the dryer. We had about fifteen minutes longer before my mom would take us to get Kris's car. I folded the shirt and pants, despite knowing they would be unfolded in just a moment. Then, I returned to the boy upstairs, his clothes in my arms.

I closed the door behind Sidney and took my clothes from his hands, smiling. "So, I'm probably cleaner than I've ever been. Ever. So if you want to kiss any part of my body, now's a really good time." I knew he'd argue. We weren't dating. False hope. All that stuff he liked to tell himself to be at ease with how strong his feelings of physical attraction for me were.

I'd missed a great deal of things about Kris, but the way he made my cheeks take color was not one of them. It made me feel childish and vulnerable. I walked away from Kris without any kisses on his body.

"We're not together. Is it really so bad to have to wait one hour? I might get all better." It wouldn't work like that, I knew. Even my pills had a two-week grace period.
"Have you seen When Harry Met Sally? There’s that quote about how when you know you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." It was, realistically, very premature talk for a pair of teenage boys who weren't even open out about their respective adoration for one another - and for whom were still fighting other roadblocks. But I felt it, and I wasn’t going to hide it.

I liked Kris. I wanted to start a relationship, a real relationship.  But it had been half a year since I'd even seen Kris before yesterday, and if it meant waiting another day or week or month for him, I would. I wasn't going to break my rule. It was in place for a reason, and over the past few months it had become law.

No more words were said that morning. Kris got dressed and we left the bedroom. Any hope of conversation was lost after that. Kris and I climbed into the back seat of my mother's car, after wiping down my seat. I wasn't sure how I made it as long as I had over the summer without my wipes.

Linda was giddy - I could tell; she kept trying to spark up random conversations and little bits of trivia and knowledge, trying to connect with me. I preferred to keep mostly short replies, though, my hand linked in Sidney’s out of sight of his Mom. Soon we'd be in my car, and then we'd be at the doctors. And then Sidney would realize just how much this didn't have to own him, control him, rule him. I was excited too. Giddy.

I held my mother's hand goodbye, the warm wipe between our skin. It was really all I could do through the car window. Kris opened the passenger door of his car for me - a car I'd never been in before - and I started wiping down the passenger seat. It was old. Not really old, but old, and a strange green color. I didn't mind it, though.

"I actually took it to a detailing place on my drive here, and steam-cleaned every little nook and crevice. Figured if you ever came for a drive with me, you'd appreciate the effort." He smiled, still unable to talk, and I slid into the drivers seat and played with the GPS app on my phone. Boston wasn't like New York. There was no order to the streets.

I was nervous. I wished I could tell Kris I was nervous, though I was pretty sure he could tell. I played with my hands in my lap the same as the first time we met and refused to look out the window. It wouldn't be so bad. But I hated new people. And I especially hated doctors. We didn’t arrive at a doctor’s office, though. It wasn't a house, either, like my other doctor. More of an office complex. I looked over at Kris with a curious look. This was the place?

"This looks like it. Doctor Krystie Kineally. Her office is on the third floor." It was easy enough for me to be strong; I generally knew what I was doing when it came to new people. I opened the passenger door, cleaned my hands with a wipe, and helped Sidney out of the car.

"If you like, we can hold hands. Nobody knows you out here, and the doctor can't say anything to anybody. It's one of the rules."

I shook my head and let go of his hand. I wished I hadn't, but it was too late. I knew we couldn't be that way. I knew it wasn't a possibility yet. I followed behind Kris with a little frown, playing with my fingers in my hand. We had to take the stairs, which I explained to Kris through the medium of his phone that 'elevators were a form of heights'. I'd hold onto the phone through the appointment, we decided, in case there was something I needed to say.

Sidney no longer felt the need to compulsively clean my phone whenever he took it from my hands, and that made me smile. It was progress whether or not he wanted to admit it. We made it to the top of the stairs and then went down a little hallway until we found the glass door with the name Dr. Kineally emblazoned on the front. There wasn't much inside; a comfortable sofa - a dispenser of wipes on the coffee table - and a little desk with a computer sitting on it.

"Feeling okay, peach? Excited?"

I shook my head to both questions. This made me incredibly nervous. I didn't like it at all. But it was what it was: an inevitability. I took a deep breath and took a seat, using one of my own wipes but taking note of the package on the corner table. I would have assumed someone had left them if they weren't on a particularly obvious dispenser. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad...
The woman made herself known only a few minutes after we'd arrived - she was about Sidney's height and wore a bright smile behind a sea of freckles, and thick square-edged glasses. She didn't look like a doctor; I guess I was expecting someone older. She was more like my friend’s sister. Maybe no older than thirty. But she was sweet and affable and that was a start.

"Good morning, I'm Doctor Kineally; but you can call me Krystie if you like."

I smiled and looked at Sidney, then replied. "I'm Kris. This is Sidney. He doesn't talk - only in very safe places. So I'm here to help." She looked at me, and then at Sidney and smiled.

"Well, why don't you both come in.”

Kris led the way, though I supposed Krystie really did. A doctor that let me call her by her first name? And she didn't wear a coat or anything. I followed Kris into what looked like a living room, or maybe a den since there was a computer desk along the back wall. No cabinets. No table with paper to lie on. Just a normal room. Kris walked to the couch and I did the same, picking a wipe out of my pocket and cleaning the surface before sitting down. I expected a strange look from the doctor, but she didn't flinch. I sat next to Kris.

"Now, you'll have to forgive me - this is usually when I'd ask you to tell me a little about yourself, Sidney."

Unlike most people, she didn't talk about Sidney. She spoke to him. Directly. Eye contact.

"But in your situation, how about I tell you some of the things I know so far, and you can nod your head or shake your head if you agree or disagree?"

SIdney looked at me for a moment, and then nodded.

"Fantastic. Okay. You like things very clean. Would it be fair to say that the cleanliness of an object entirely defines if you're able to make use of it?"

I nodded my head. It sounded strange put the way she described, but I supposed, all in all, she was right. Even if Kris wasn't clean, I probably wouldn't make much use of him. Again, I looked around the office; I wasn't used to people staring at me so warmly. It was surreal - like stepping into someone's home. I didn't understand. I'd have asked, but I didn't know how to word it and the phone still sat idly in my hands.

"Wonderful. I think we can all relate to that in some way." Krystie screwed up her nose in fake disgust and then smiled. She was never judgmental, never condescending. Her questions were simple, easy to answer, crafted for yes or no answers.

“Is your bedroom very tidy, too? Organized, everything in its place and everything just perfect, right?"

Again, I nodded. She was... different. I wasn't sure how. She almost enjoyed this, it seemed. Talking to me about my problems. And if it wasn't for the sweet smile on her face I would've almost found it condescending or rude. But she was very enriching. I supposed it was just surreal for me to have someone like that in my life.

“But it can be exhausting to spend so much time worrying. Do you worry about so much that you try to avoid it?"

I pointed to the boy next to me. Kris looked at me puzzled, as did the woman in front of me, but the difference was Kris's expression eventually turned into realization. Him and me. I worried so much about us that I didn't let us be a thing. It was the simplest of defenses - avoidance.

"Sidney and I are pretty close." I made sure that my words were sitting well with the boy next to me before I continued; he seemed to offer cautious approval. "And... we both want to be more close. More-than-friends close." This brought a smile to her face; not a teasing smile, though - one of happiness.

"Sidney's worried that his quirks are too much for me to handle, so he likes to stay at arms length." She only looked at me while I talked, and then shifted her gaze immediately back to Sidney. It made sense. She was here for him, after all.

"Firstly, that's awesome. I'm really happy you two found one another. So it sounds to me like you'd like to not have to worry about that anymore - about burdening Kris. Is that right?"

I nodded my head. I wasn't sure I would shake my head this entire visit. She was pretty spot on in her assessments, though most of them seemed fairly obvious by this point. I liked her, though. She had a way about her that made me feel at ease. Not safe. Not like my bedroom. But somewhere close. I decided to pull out the phone.

"She's a doctor, right?" and passed it over to Kris so he could see.

I smiled and nodded. "Yeah, she is." Krystie smiled at the exchange, though she didn't see the words themselves; she seemed happy just for the fact it had happened. She also didn't seem at all bothered or put off by the fact Sidney couldn't talk.

"You seem like a bit of a perfectionist, Sidney. I like that, I think it's a really good trait when it's directed well. But sometimes... well... sometimes it can be a little off-course. Like, do you ever find yourself finishing something, and then deciding to do it over from the start? Sometimes more than once?"

I nodded again, typing away on the phone. It probably seemed rude. Ugh.

"1.) Tell her sorry about the phone. 2.) Explain to her my cleaning habits. 3.) She doesn't seem like a doctor."

With another tilt of my hands, I held up the phone for Kris to read. I needed one of these phones. It was pretty convenient, to say the least.

I read from the screen and nodded as I looked back at the woman. "Sidney says sorry about the phone, and that he doesn't think you seem very much like a doctor." She smiled warmly at Sidney and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

"I hope not. A lot of doctors want to make a commission for the pharmaceutical companies that sponsor their clinics. They don't listen."

Despite the wickedness of her words, the young doctor stayed cheery and bubbly, very professional, very approachable. "Well, Sidney wanted me to tell you about his cleaning habits. He has to be clean, and his surroundings have to be clean as well. It riles him up really badly if it's not kept clean - he once described it to me as being like a mosquito bite, and the more he ignores it, the more bites and more itchy he gets." I looked a him for approval, and added. "Anything else, peach?"

I empathized with what my new doctor had to say. I understood a lot about the kind of doctors who would give me medicine just to give me medicine. Suddenly, I liked her a lot more. I pulled the phone out and hit enter, typing again.

"They get worse in the rain."

I hadn't meant for him to tell her everything about my habits, but he had. So I might as well go all out, now. Maybe it would speed this up, too.

"They get worse, in the rain."

"Rain water?"

"Not just that. When it's raining, he feels much more compelled to clean." She nodded and smiled, looking pretty thoughtful for a moment before she spoke next.

"Sidney, do you ever feel as though you operate automatically when you're cleaning? As though you're not thinking about it; sort of like the auto-pilot in an airplane."

I knew the answer to that one. I'd seen it. I'd had to snap him out of it a number of times. I didn't say anything, though.

I nodded my head slowly. It was a particularly interesting phenomenon. More times than not I'd find myself cleaning without focus, but those kinds of things only brought me more distress. I decided to reply to this one, again on the phone.

"I do. But I feel like if I'm not thinking about cleaning the cleaning isn't good enough. So I go back and start again." I held the phone up to Kris.

"He says that happens, but when it does he feels as though he's not happy with the results of his cleaning, so he starts over if that happens." Krystie nodded to my response, though she kept looking at Sidney as she thought for another few moments.

"Sidney, I wonder if you know very much about a condition called obsessive-compulsive disorder?"

Again I pointed to the boy next to me and he explained that he'd just told me about it yesterday, and that was the whole reason I was here. A second opinion. Granted, I didn't know what made me have obsessive-compulsive disorder, but I trusted this doctor's judgement a lot more than I trusted my other one.

"OCD is an anxiety disorder. Anxiety disorders are usually characterized by fear, apprehension, worry and stress, often about the things we cannot change. Patients with OCD sometimes deal with these anxieties by carrying out compulsive behavior. For example, cleaning a room compulsively, and then realizing you weren't focused, so starting again. Most people with OCD have rituals, and I bet you have some of your own, Sidney. Like washing your hands, and cleaning surfaces before you touch them. Quirks, the way that your friend puts them."

Her casual conversation had dropped into something pretty much confirming her credentials as a doctor, and I reached out my hand in case Sidney needed to squeeze it for support.

"The good news is that it's treatable in the most cases, and though you'll have to get used to seeing me quite a bit, for quite some time, there's no reason you couldn't live out a completely happy and healthy life."
I was happy to hear this, and it definitely showed on my lips. I looked up at Kris with a smile and took out the phone. I was thankful, of course. I was excited, even! In ten minutes this woman had given me more hope than I'd had in almost eight years. I knew it wasn't a perfect science. I knew it would take time. I knew I might never be normal. But 'completely happy and healthy life' was really all I dreamed of.

"What about my talking? And rain? And fears of heights and the dark and bugs?" They were still important, to a lesser degree.

"And kissing?" I held the phone up to Kris again.

"Sidney has a lot of other fears, too. He's worried about the fact he can't talk, and his fear of the rain, and heights, and the dark and bugs. And he'd very much like to be able to kiss someone, one day." She smiled knowingly when I said 'someone’.

"The ritual behavior is often the result of the anxiety, but it also feeds back into itself. That's our focus, in management; ritual reduction. In doing so, the infinite energy that once went into your anxiety will fade. Slowly at first, but quicker the more we practice together. And without anxiety to underpin, most fears become rather impotent." Krystie leaned in close and smiled. “It depends on the effort you put in and how much you think you can handle, but there’s every chance that you should be able to kiss someone.”

I bit my lip and looked down at my feet with a bright smile. So this was all going to work. I couldn't believe it. After so long, and all it took was seeing a different doctor. Someone who knew what she was doing. I was elated. And maybe I could talk again! I decided to focus on that one, first. The ability to talk was something I very much missed and something my parents looked forward to most.

"When I was ten, all this started one day. Click. Magic. How long will it be until I can talk?" Again, Kris, phone.

"Selective Mutism can be difficult to judge; but it's tied to your anxiety. And you think about it, and wish you could talk, and that feeling only makes it less possible for you to manage. The key is in relaxation, identifying a person as a safe place. Kris, for example. But we're going to work on some of that anxiety first, see what we can do."

"This takes time, though, Sidney. Please don't expect a rushed solution. But millions of people share your condition and live happy, healthy lives."

I nodded my head. The rest of the session was mostly about treatment options. She talked a lot about not 'officially' diagnosing me yet, though it was pretty much a sure thing. She gave me papers and websites to take home with me and I flipped through them while Kris told her more about me. About the details. About my life. What he witnessed at camp and things I'd told him. It wasn't until the doctor mentioned "next session" and started setting a date that I typed into Kris's phone.

"I didn't get a prescription."

"Doctor, Sidney is wondering if you were going to prescribe him anything?" She looked at me like I'd said something really cute, and smiled, shaking her head.

"There aren't any very effective chemical avenues for treating OCD. There are options, but they don't teach you to manage your condition. I wouldn't recommend any pills, at least not at this time.”

No prescriptions. No prescriptions? I shook my head in mild disbelief and typed back on Kris's phone.

"But she's a doctor..."

I thought that's what doctors did? You go to a doctor, you tell them what's wrong, they give you medicine, you get better. And I understood what Krystie said about it taking time and about managing it effectively with different thought processes, but... I thought that also meant something with medicine. What made me trying now any different than me trying before?

I relayed the message and the woman smiled again, looking at Sidney with bright green eyes behind thick rimmed glasses.

"Doctors aren't always about prescriptions. I've given you a lot of reading material between now and our next session, and when I see you next we're going to start teaching you strategies and techniques to make this all work."

Sydney still seemed dismayed, though, so she added:

"Between now and then, I'd like you not think about talking at all. Just the same as you don't think about breathing. Any time you think about it, I want you to think the word 'stop'. The less you think about talking, the less control the anxiety will have and you may even manage a word here or there."

It sounded stupid. Almost condescending. Like something you'd tell a child. But I nodded my head anyway and looked over at Kris with a bit of worry. He put his hand in mine and I squeezed. Krystie and I set another appointment for the following week, but I knew Kris wouldn't be here then. I wasn't sure what I'd do about talking. Maybe if she came over to my bedroom I could talk to her, there. But that was still a stretch. Kris led me out of the building and I followed in tow, climbing into the passenger seat of the car and sent a text to my mom.

"Out of the doctor. Appointment next week. She thinks I have OCD. Manageable. It won't ever go away, but it can get better. Easier." Send. I decided not to tell her about my maybe being able to talk - I didn't want to get her hopes up.

By the time we got to the car, I couldn't help it ~ I reached across to the passenger seat and took Sidney’s hand.

"So, what do you think of Dr. Kineally?" It was pretty clear from my smile that I was pleased with her performance, but it didn't matter what I thought. He was actually a little difficult to read right now.

I nodded my head. It was all I could do. God I wished I could... oh, not supposed to think that. Stop. That didn't really work. But I guess I'm still thinking about it, huh? Stop, stop, stop.

-------------

Thank you for reading.  Like & Comment!  Consider supporting us on Patreon! 

[Baby Billy]

Love this so far, Linda has to find a way for Kris to stay around for a while to help Sidney. 

[Wannatripbaby]

On 6/18/2020 at 9:36 AM, Sophie ♥ said:

Chapter 28

Great, now I'm hungry. ?

Grammar Patrol

On 6/18/2020 at 9:36 AM, Sophie ♥ said:

I wandered wearily about the house until I got to kitchen,

 

[Sophie ♥]

4 hours ago, Wannatripbaby said:

Grammar Patrol

Fixed.

[Sophie ♥]

Chapter 30

"I liked her." It wasn't until we were back in my bedroom that I could say it, after a very long ten minute conversation with my mother that I couldn’t participate in. I was sure I said "stop" more times in the past 15 minutes than I had my whole life. "She's... different to my other doctor."

"She's different from any other doctor I've ever seen." Then again, I hadn't really had much experience when it came to therapists so maybe they were all supposed to be that way.

"I felt like she was just having a conversation with you, and then all of a sudden she knew everything about you. Like, when I told her about your cleaning habits? I felt like I wasn't telling her anything new. Like she knew all that, already." I finished cleaning my hands with a set of wipes and dropped them into the one-way trash-can that Sidney had.

"I don't really get it. How the treatment works. But I guess everyone who does them gets better, so there must be something to it all."

I nodded. Skeptical didn't even begin to describe what I was. But I trusted Krystie. She seemed to know what she was doing. I left Kris for the walk-in closet, coming out in a new pair of pajamas and lying on the bed. I couldn't touch it with any kind of germs. It was my safe place. I put my head on the pillow and looked over at the boy at my window.

"You have to leave soon."

"I know. But I can come up on the weekends, if you like. I mean, if your parents don't mind. It's not that far to drive." Five hours was pretty far, but it went quickly when I had something to look forward to.

"And if you get a cellphone or a Facebook, we can message all the time." I did have his email, admittedly, and I wondered if I phoned when he was in his room, if he'd be able to talk. It stood to reason that he might be able to, but I wasn't 100% sure how all this worked.
I bit my lip and played with the edge of my comforter, hoping it would comfort me. It often did, but today wasn't one of those days.

"We can talk... maybe the phone, and if not, email. But..." Kris looked over at me with a bit of concern. He didn't touch my bed or me. "I'm not better yet, Kris…”

"I know. Friends. But nothing says a friend can't drive up on the weekends to see a friend, right? I'll talk to your Mom about it. Unless you don't want to see me...?" The smile on my lips showed that it was perfectly okay if he did want to keep some distance. Of course, I wanted to start my life with him as soon as possible. But Krystie said stress made it worse. Maybe I had been contributing to that these past six months.  I didn’t want to do that again.

I shook my head and rolled over, facing away from him. It was hard to look in his green eyes. It was hard to see his slightly-pink fingers so close to mine. It was hard to put myself in his life, and it was harder to let him into mine. I made a promise, to him and to me. When I was better, we could have our happily ever after.

"I'm sorry..."

"Hey, don't be sad. It's alright. We can call, alright? You have my number. And if you want to talk more than that, you can make a private little Facebook to talk to me on, or you can get a cell phone and text me." I knelt down by the side of the bed and ran the backs of my fingertips across his cheek with a grin.

"Don't stress. Remember what Krystie said, about stress making it worse? Just relax and what happens, happens. I know where you live. You have my number. It won't be like before - when things get tough, you'll be able to call me."

And call him I did. It was actually pretty easy and I started to wonder if I could talk to someone else on the phone, as long as I was in my room. The theory went untested, though. And most of what Kris and I did was email.

"Dear Kris,
Krystie and I have been getting along well. I already told you about the tablet I'm using to talk. I spoke today, too. Not in front of anyone, and only a few words in the living room, but everything counts. Maybe the "stop" stuff is working, or maybe it's because I'm doing better with cleaning. We started systematic desent...something this week. It's scary, but I like it. I feel like I'm moving forward. Maybe soon I'll be able to see you again.
Anyway. I miss you. I'll call you again Saturday.
Sincerely, Peach"

Life seemed to lose a good degree of its color once I was at home, but this time it wasn't months without contact. He called. And we emailed. And suddenly a little bit of the color came back; it left me with a perpetual smile whenever I'd hang up the phone, or when it buzzed in my pocket to let me know that he'd emailed. I loved that he had a little tablet to talk with, too, and all I could think about was the way he clumsily tapped away on my phone and how it frustrated him so. I bet he was doing a lot better with it, now. I pulled my phone out and started a reply.

"Hey Peach.
Really glad to hear things are going great - and that you spoke outside your bedroom? That's fantastic! I'm so so proud of you. I had another dream about you, but you know me - it's how I am. The dreams don't seem to be longing anymore, more reflective on the time we spent together. I like that. It's like dreaming about something that's within reach now, and that's so much better.
I'm glad things are going well with Krystie; she seemed really nice and it sounds like she's getting results. I talk about you to my friends, now. Remember I told them I liked boys? Well, I talk about you now by name, and not just the boy-I-had-a-crush-on-over-the-summer. Jackson called you Sid, once, but I told him you preferred Sidney. Doing little things like that helps to remind me of you, I think.
I miss you, too - and I'm looking forward to your call. Did I tell you I started learning how to sing? Amber is teaching me. I figured if you can learn to talk, I can learn to sing. I'm not great at it, though. Maybe I'll show you on Saturday.
~Kris."

"Dear Kris,
My parents and I are getting along much better, I think. Did yours finish their divorce? You're still going with your mom, right? Anyway, I've been eating more food my mom cooks, not just pasta. I even had toast the other day! It was really good. I missed toast. The thought control is working really well. It still sounds like a variable of mind control, or something from a video game, but it works. It's pretty easy, too. I just figure out why I'm anxious instead of that I'm anxious and break it down. You explained it to me that once, about germs and getting sick and dying and the unlikeliness. It's not fool proof, but it's improvement.
Tell me more about graduation. You're so lucky to finish in a week. With the days I missed early in the year, I'm not sure they'll let me graduate at all. The hospital note should help.
I'll write again tomorrow.  
Sincerely, Peach"

"Hey Peach,
Graduation is pretty scary, actually - it's like they expect that you now know everything you're going to need to go off to college and make this all work, but it's like being thrown from one trapeze to another and you're in mid-air and hoping you get caught. On the topic of college...
I've been accepted in Northeastern.
~Kris"

I decided to keep this short to try not to overload the boy; Northeastern was very close to where he lived; only about a ten minute drive. And admittedly, I wouldn't have applied if not for the fact he was in Boston; but it had a much better school of Chemistry than anything local anyway. If he searched that on his tablet, he'd see that, too. It was really very win/win.

"Dear Kris,
Wow. That's really close. Did you know that? You probably did. I didn't apply to any universities. But there's a community college at the end of the city I was gonna go to. I wished I'd applied, though. I didn't think I'd be able to handle it, but after three months with Krystie, I feel so much better. Still anxious. You know me. That probably won't change. But so much is better. Maybe even manageable. I don't know. I wished I'd applied, though.
Anyway. It would be nice having you close.
Sincerely, Peach"

"Dear Peach,
How about when I come up to move into my dorm, I take you to the community college and we'll try and get you in on a second-round, or second-semester application? I bet if you had me there with me, with all the progress you've made with Krystie, you could do it. You can fill out forms, after-all, and I can talk for you.
Let me know if you want me to. I'm looking forward to being close to you. Admittedly, I looked for schools that were both good chemistry faculties and closer to there, than to here; but I really lucked out finding Northeastern. I've never lived anywhere else but New York City, so it'll be an adventure. Mom says she's going to miss me, but she also implied she might well end up moving to Boston now that Dad is long gone.
God, he was an asshole. You know he took a swing at me? I'm not sure I ever told you that, but when I got back from the camp and he asked if I'd 'learned my lesson', and I smirked and told him that I'd learned that I definitely preferred cuddling with boys... he tried to hit me. Mom saw it all, and freaked out. It's what started all the divorce talk. So I guess I was the instigator. But it's better this way; she's so much happier without him.
~Kris"

"Dear Kris,
One day! I'm really excited to show you my progress. It's been so long. I have graduation in a few hours, then dinner with the family. I called up Bunker Hill. It's across the river from Northeastern. About fifteen minutes. They said as long as I could get an application in before June ends, they'd consider me for a Fall term. They have a psychology program, too, and I think maybe I want to try to be the kind of doctor Krystie is. I don't know. I've never taken a psychology class before. And if I do really well my first year at BHCC, I might be able to transfer to Northeastern. I didn't look up if they have a psychology program, though.
Anyway. I'm really excited to see you. You'll be over at four, right?
Sincerely, Peach"

-------------

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[Baby Billy]

I just have to tell you how much I have enjoyed this, it makes you feel so good to see how a person can change the live of someone with just a little understanding and caring.  I for one know that when you post the next chapter I will be happy with the outcome but sad to see it end.  As I had said on a few stories on this site all good things must end.  Just happy this one is ending with my tears like Anna.?

[Sophie ♥]

Chapter End

I made sure to be immaculately clean before I arrived. I had steam-cleaned my car and showered and kept my hands wonderfully clean to the point they smelled of alcohol wipes more than anything else, but I was still nervous. When he opened his front door, though, I smiled wide as could be and threw my arms around him, cuddling the boy close.

"Hey peach, you're looking wonderful. Is that some color in your skin? Have you actually been going outside? Looks really cute." I smiled at the boy and he blushed and it felt like no time had passed at all.

I motioned him into the house and closed the door behind him. I didn't worry about talking anymore. It happened or it didn't. And actually, it happened more often than not, now. Not in front of people, and usually not far from my room, but progress was progress. I followed Kris up the stairs to my room, leaving the door opened. Neither of my parents were home. Still, talking with the door open was new.

"I missed you, too. I'm glad you're here."

The fact he'd talked without closing his door wasn't something I'd missed; but he reminded me in his last letter not to make a big deal of him talking or to praise him, because thinking about it made it harder for him to stay on track. So I said nothing, but I did smile.

"I'm glad I am, too. I can't believe how far you've come; you're actually going to college." And that reminded me. "Oh, Northeastern does have a school of psychology. So that'd be awesome if you moved there after your first year. I mean, I don't imagine you'd live in residences like I would because your house so close, but I'd love to go to the same school as you." What else? "Anyway, how's things? Tell me everything."

"Well. I answered the door without wipes." I held my hands up. "I usually hold my hands behind my back now, since I don't carry wipes around nearly as often. Just a precaution. But more often than not, I'm okay. I still haven't spoken to my parents, which sucks. It'll come, though. I talk around the whole house, now. Sometimes at school, if I'm alone, but I just kind of whisper. Krystie says I'm making a lot of progress."

"That's a huge amount of progress, peach." We both knew that my visit would be a big thing, too - we could test if he could talk to me in places outside of his bedroom. The fact his door was open was a huge improvement already.

"I'm really glad things are going well. How're your Mom and Dad? I know when I was here last your Dad was sort've a bit insensitive about the whole thing. Has he gotten any better?"

"Yeah, well..." I sat down on my bed, Kris next to me, and looked out the window. It was a wonderful day for June. "Thing is, before, we just assumed I was being picky. I mean, I didn't even know what OCD was, let alone my parents, you know? And now that we know what it is, know that it's something I can't control, it's been a lot better. Kind of the way people are when they visit if you're sick with the flu. I don't like looking at it that way, but it's true sometimes. I'm sick. Not a phase, not stubborn, just sick. And there's no cure, but I can get better. So I think that helps him. My mom too."

"I guess being able to put a name to it is a big thing, huh?" He was so much more grounded now, more realistic in his approach to things - and his self-esteem seemed to be a little higher, too; him having done something with his hair beyond just making sure it was spotlessly clean. "I'm looking forward to seeing them again. They're okay with me staying here? I can get a hotel if they're not."

"They don't mind. You're still the only friend I've had over since I was... maybe fourteen. They're excited to see you. My mom is, anyway. My dad doesn't talk a lot about you. That's just the people they are." Kris was eighteen now. A legal adult. I was a little envious - my birthday wouldn't be for another month. I was always the youngest of my classes and I almost didn't mind the idea of repeating the ninth grade. Luckily, I didn't.

"I think I offended your Dad that day at the breakfast table." I'd been very bold, very presumptuous and I knew I had. But I was protective. I had the right to be, realistically; at that point nobody seemed to give much of a crap about Sidney.

"Nah. You stood up to him. That's an admirable quality, especially because I hadn't in so long. You know? Anyway, I don't think he doesn't like you."

"I want you to come with me for a drive. There's something I wanna show you."

I climbed up off my bed and took Kris's hand, leading him down the stairs with our fingers intertwined. I didn't even consider that he was dirty in any way - he knew better. "Where are we gonna go?"

"Charles River. It's really pretty this time of year, and I walk to walk along the bank with you and talk; because it's something outdoors and naturey that I think you should be able to manage." Realistically, it was more than that. The paved boardwalks that lined each side of the river that ran through the city were well known as being one of the more romantic places in Boston, and the water was also very clean and fresh-smelling, unlike most metropolitan rivers.

"Okay." I paused at opening the passenger door of the car, lifting the handle and tugging the door open with one hand and taking my seat on the chair with my eyes closed. I knew he'd cleaned the whole car - hell, it even smelled clean - but it was still pretty difficult. Especially the door handle. I wiped my hands on one another and closed the door, playing with my fingers. Just dirt. Just germs. They can't hurt you. You're obsessing. You know it's not dangerous. Okay.

It was hard not to smile, watching him touch the door handle, slip into the car and then work through it in his head without so much as a single wipe in sight. Really, really impressive. I decided to talk and try and distract him.

"It's not far. We'll drive for a little bit, and then I'll park near the bank and we can walk along it." He nodded, but didn't say anything - I wasn't sure if it was that he couldn't, or if he was just choosing not to out of choice. But we drove. And it wasn't long before we parked and got out of the car; the smell of the river a wonderful, refreshing breeze. The boardwalk was only about a hundred feet away, and it ran for two or three miles; peppered with restaurants, cafes and park benches that overlooked the river.

I climbed out of the car and kicked the door shut. I'd learned to use my feet for whatever I could - at least those had shoes on. Not my usual boots. Not the waterproof, germ proof ones. Just shoes. Normal shoes and normal clothes on a normal day along a normal river for a normal walk. I put my hands behind my back, holding one wrist, and followed Kris toward the water.

When we got to the boardwalk, I knew in a heartbeat that it had been a good choice; it really was as pretty as the pictures online had shown. I held my hand out and smiled.

"I wonder if you'd do me the pleasure of holding my hand while I escort you down the riverside, my sweet peach?" I smiled. I couldn't help it; I knew I sounded ridiculous. But this all had a point.

Wow. Really, wow. I'd been to the Charles before, obviously - who hadn't in Boston? - but the only times I'd walked the boardwalk were before I was ten. I certainly couldn't appreciate this, then. I slipped my hand into Kris's and looked around nervously. No one seemed to care. Who would? It was fine. Nothing to worry about. And so I walked along the river with Kris.

There were other couples out for walks; this time of day, the sky clear and beautiful and the temperature evened out by the cool breeze off the waters surface... it was so lovely. Admittedly there weren't very many other boy/boy couples, but there were enough girl/girl to balance it out. Nobody cared, anyway. People minded their own business.

"You've come so far. It's really impressive, and I wish I could get it across to you just how proud I am. I knew you could do this, I knew you could." He still wasn't perfect; a lot of this stuff was still super difficult, I knew. But it was a start and a damn good one. I doubted very much he'd be able to talk out here, with so many people around, but I didn't need him to.

I gave Kris a little smile and looked at his hand in mine. I missed this. I missed him. And I wasn't sure if this would suffice yet, but I wanted to be with him. I'd always wanted to be with him. But it was complicated. Always complicated. I looked across the water, rippling with the flow and the wind. It was miraculous...

"I've been thinking a lot, lately. About this. About us. About how much easier it would be to date someone else." His hand tensed in mine, so I spoke a little quicker. "And I decided I don't want easy. I don't want anything, if it's not you." We stopped walking as I sat down on a park bench that overlooked the river, the sun in the distance beyond the city skyline.

I knew my cheeks were red, but maybe it wasn't noticeable in outdoor lightning. I didn't go outside very often. I sat next to Kris on the little bench and looked down at the water. It glittered with the sun's reflection, broken up over the surface.

"There was this girl, once. Mindy. When I was in ninth grade." I didn't look up from the water. "She liked me. Liked that I was clean and quiet. Liked that she talked and I'd listen. We'd hold hands. It was the only time I didn't hate this part of me. The part that makes things hard. It brought me her. But things get difficult, and she could never kiss me. It got to her. It got to me, too. And we broke up. I missed a lot of school that year. Had to move. I hadn't seen her since." The gimmick of talking outside my bedroom was lost on me, in that moment, when I looked up at Kris with a forced smile.

"I like seeing you..."

"I like seeing you, too." And I knew what he was saying, I knew he felt that if we dated that the lack of being able to kiss or explore intimacy would break us up, and then we'd never see one another again. I got that. I understood. I squeezed his hand.

"And I could be your friend forever and ever, and that might be all we ever are if that's what you want. But I don't think you want that... I think you want to be more. I know I do. And there's risk... but isn't knowing risk and accepting the possibilities something you're learning now, anyway?" I smiled and kissed his cheek.
“I want you.”

I rubbed my cheek with my hand, an instinct I couldn't really stop. But I didn't look for a wipe. I didn't try to disinfect my face. I knew real kissing was nothing like kissing on the cheek, though.

"I want you too, Kris. I do. I've known that for a long time. But I... don't want to lose you, either. I don't want you to resent me for the things I can't do. And I don't want you to stop talking to me, stop seeing me. And it's an inevitability if we go down that road..."

"It's not an inevitability. It's so far from inevitable. Think about me. Think about if I were the ones with the quirks. Would you ever let them be a reason for you to not want to be with me; even if there were things I just couldn't do? Things you really wanted to?" I was careful with my wording, but he was stronger now. He could think about these things objectively, and he could make decisions based on that. It amazed me, in-fact, just how much stronger he was compared to the boy I'd left here last time. Compared to the boy at the camp.

I opened my mouth at first, but I shook my head. I had an argument, but he was ultimately right. If it was Kris who couldn't kiss me, or Kris who cleaned things, then I'd stay forever regardless. But I understood. And I was sure Kris understood, too, but...

"Things change, though. People change. What's to say... I just..."

"People do change. If I can leave one day, then you could kiss me one day.  It goes both ways.” I smiled, though I was sure to follow it up with another sentiment so he couldn't dwell on that one for too much longer.

"I love you. I think I have for a while, now. I wasn't sure at first, but going months without even hearing from you, then getting letters I couldn't reply to, and then having you send me away when I came to see you... and through all that, I still want to be with you. I still want to have you as mine. The fact that my feelings never wavered... it made me sure. Certain. I love you. And if what I feel for you can endure all that, what the hell can stop it?"

I didn't know what to say. I looked down at the river, my cheeks full of color. I couldn't see myself, not at this angle. The sun was still high in the sky and far away, lighting up the whole river like moonlight. What if things got bad again? What if I relapsed? There were so many what- ifs. But Krystie had taught me not to adhere to those. Not to live in a world of towelettes and hand sanitizer. Maybe I'd get sick out here by the water. Maybe that sickness would take my life away. But what life was it really taking from me if I never left my room?

"Okay,” I smiled.

I put my arms around the boy and pulled him close, cuddling him as close as I could manage and so close that no germs would dare try and get between us anyway.

"You make me so damn happy, peach." The words seemed underwhelming compared to the feeling, and the embrace spoke many more volumes.

-------------

Thank you all for reading!  It really does mean a lot to us, especially considering the thematics of the story and the website we are posting it on.  I really can't put into words how much we appreciate it.  You are all so wonderful. ❤️ 

Consider supporting us on Patreon! 

[Chris Robin]

Makes me happy that Sidney got the help he needed, that the therapy helped him make progress and he made it past his fears about commitment to Kris. A lovely feel good story. Thanks

[Wannatripbaby]

On 6/19/2020 at 1:59 PM, Sophie ♥ said:

Chapter 29

*considers making a comment on how the "good" doctor is characterized by how not-doctor-like she is and what that says about our society*

Nope. Not going down that road. ?

[Sophie ♥]

22 minutes ago, Wannatripbaby said:

*considers making a comment on how the "good" doctor is characterized by how not-doctor-like she is and what that says about our society*

Nope. Not going down that road. ?

YOU AREN'T WRONG THO

[Baby Billy]

I got the feeling when Kris and Sidney first walked in to the Doctors office that she may have personal experience with OCD.   

[Wannatripbaby]

On 6/20/2020 at 12:55 PM, Sophie ♥ said:

Chapter 30

 

On 6/20/2020 at 12:55 PM, Sophie ♥ said:

Five hours was pretty far, but it went quickly when I had something to look forward to.

I know I would gladly drive 5 hours to be with my GF, and my car doesn't have AC! ?

Also dawwwwwwwww! Those letters back and forth were just ??? I think I might go ahead and read the conclusion now since I'm behind anyway. ?

[Wannatripbaby]

On 6/22/2020 at 1:52 AM, Sophie ♥ said:

Chapter End

That was just beautiful! You managed to get me to read a non-ABDL, M/M romance story and enjoy every minute of it. ?