Won't Get Fooled Again (Lincoln)

[Ellen Banks]

Lincoln Fitzpatrick

Oh joy, everyone gathers around because we’ve about the go round and round utterly aimlessly on the therapy carousel

How long are we going to spin? Too long.

Where are we going? Round and round until we're right back to where we started.

That’s what these “Sessions” felt like to Ellen Banks

Honestly, Why must this school be solely populated by people that simply couldn’t take no for an answer? Was this school just made for the most stubborn mutants they could possibly find? Because Ellen seems to meet every single one of them in abundance at this damn school. They all just flocked around Ellen like she had some kind of magnet attached to her or something.

Case in point these “Sessions”

Ellen was once again forced to attend “Therapy” despite the fact that she was clearly the sanest person in the school and yet the school constantly felt the need to put her in this situation?! Did she LOOK like a Jack McCarthy? Did she seem like she needed mental help? Honestly, you’d think the school would learn by now nd she had made it so very clear what she thought of the entire idea of therapy, with her sharp tongue

But here she was, once again sat on a sofa her legs tucked underneath her not even bothering to give her new “Therapist” the courtesy of eye contact and stared down at her phone experienced digits texting away

[Lincoln Fitzpatrick]

With one leg tucked underneath him, Lincoln had made himself comfortable in his large, beige chair. The chair was made out of soft fabric, as not to make that annoying sound leather often did. His office had a nice mix of comfortable and toned down artifacts and furniture. Mostly earth colored. He'd always found the toned down nature of things to be the most relaxing.

With his empty notepad in his lap and a pen in the other, Lincoln simply watched the blonde girl for a moment. He'd already read her file. He'd been told she'd be a challenge. He didn't mind.

"What do you think of the room?" he asked, head tilting curiously in her direction. He took a moment before looking around. The walls were a sort of creamy white, the floors dark brown hardwood. A lot of the furniture followed suit with the dark brown color, except for the couch and chair which were both a soft beige. The table between the two of them was dark brown and most of the details in the room shared the same beige color as the couch and chair or the creamy white of the walls. There was a few other colors mixed in, like the green plants and the like, but earth colors was the most prominent.

"It kind of looks like a clichè office - one you usually only see in those fancy, rich magazines," he continued before giving the girl a chance to speak.

[Ellen Banks]

You know it was funny, she would imagine that maybe people strived to have someone (Maybe a shrink maybe not( and yet Ellen happened to find herself with not one but two therapists dedicated to finding out and solving every little worry and insecurity out of her blonde pampered head.

She supposed she would be more appreciative if she ever claimed that she needed their help….

...and she didn’t, and the day that Ellen ever admitted as such, at that very moment hell would freeze over at that exact moment. Really, Lincoln even before he opened his roughish mouth was fighting an uphill battle, Ellen had shown nothing but pure scorn towards him and his profession of choice, in fact. She thought that she has made it perfectly clear the moment she entered the room that she was here under protest, stubborn and with some stubborn as Ellen, it was very hard to try and shatter that perspective.

Who knows, if she was lucky she’d only have to speak a few moments before any attempt at civility was dropped, the shrink threw her out of the room in a fit of annoyance never to darken his doorway again.

...Which suited Ellen right down to the ground. That was the wonderful thing about being her, if she didn’t want anything to do with someone, it wouldn’t take long for someone to be made to feel the same way

At the question of what she thought of the room, with an effort she drew her eyes towards the shrink with a fair amount of derision on her face as if to say “Please ask me questions that aren’t just there just to break the ice. It bores me “It’s…..” Ellen began looking over the room with her nose slightly in the air “...Bohemian” Ellen shrugged “Look if this is about what happened with that …”Jimmy” kid. I already told the tutors. I told him very clearly I don’t enjoy people touching me, please don’t do it...and he didn’t listen, that's all there is to it"

[Lincoln Fitzpatrick]

Lincoln studied the girl; she didn't look as if she wished to be here. He wondered briefly if it was because of pride. Maybe she simply didn't think she needed the help. He wasn't sure. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asked then, tilting his head. "I'd like to hear your side of the story and not the tutors'." He lifted his foot then, planting over it his other and made himself a little more comfortable in his chair.

"I mean, more detailed than what you just did, of course," he continued. He wondered if making the girl the center of attention and making it seem as if she was not at fault was the right course of action. From what he'd heard, she wasn't exactly the easiest person to make open up, but for now, Lincoln was determined to at least try.