Ramen and Wine

Chapter Two: Anger Management and Group Therapy

“You have got to learn to control your temper, Elise.”

Turning up the volume on the radio…

“I mean it, Elise! What if Jared had pressed charges?” Bree is practically shouting, and I’m really trying to ignore her. “ELISE! My God, will you listen to me?”

“Fine.” I yell over Nickelback, “What do you want to say?” Bree slams her fist into the radio control, and all goes silent. “Jeez. I know Nickelback isn’t your favorite band, but I thought you liked that song.” She takes a huge breath, and I feel vindicated. She left me there to rot with Jared and Hannah for three flipping hours. I think I have the right to be angry. Traffic, my ass.

“I was saying,” she spits, “that you need to learn how to control your temper.”

“That’s great. Let me know when you come up with a realistic idea.”

“Elise, I’m serious. It’s getting out of hand. Now, I took the liberty to enroll you in a special help group that Matt went to for a while and he said it was great.” Oh, Lord. Bree acts more like my mother than my mother does. And that’s saying something.

“Bree, I’m not sure I trust Matt’s judgement. The man works in a crazy hospital.”

“It is not a crazy hospital, and that has nothing to do with anything about Matt. Come on. It can’t hurt.”

“Considering the things I’ve been dragged to by you before, I think it can.” Bree pauses.

“Oh, please, Elise. Can’t we put the computer store tango behind us?”

No. No, we can’t. Bree gets herself into the strangest situations, and I usually get dragged along by default of ‘my best friend has a husband and is therefore otherwise occupied on a Saturday night, leaving me alone to wallow in my pit of despair’. The Computer Store Tango was one of these such outings. It ended up with me, Bree, Matt (Bree’s now-ex-boyfriend), and some guy whose name I never did figure out getting really smashed and doing the tango in a computer store while the manager played the music off iTunes. That was a hangover to remember. Or, rather, forget. If that was possible.

“I’m still trying.”

“You know, you’re really not a bad dancer.”

“Bree, just drive.”

“Whatever. Look, what do you say about anger management? The first meeting starts in ten minutes, so decide fast.”

“Oh, thanks for the warning, Breanna!”

“Don’t call me that. Well? You might as well say yes, because we’re driving there now. My mother says that I need some anger management, so at least you won’t be alone!” She grins at me like this is supposed to make group therapy more appealing.

At least she hasn’t seen the mirror yet.

--

“All right. Let’s go around and tell our names and one thing about ourselves, everyone.” Oh, dear God, I’m in a cheesy addict self-help group. The rather ugly man leading the group smiles and continues. “I’ll start. My name is Garret, and I love to play tennis.”

I think I’d rather be back at the jail.

The balding, depressed-looking guy next to Garret is next. “I’m Rob… uh. My wife left me because of my anger, which is why I’m here.” Well, that would explain the depression.

The pinch-faced woman on his right. “I’m Stella.” I barely restrain a snort. “I drive a taxi.”

Next is Bree. “Uh. My name is Bree.” Silence. She glances at me and I put my head in my hand.

“Say something about yourself.” I hiss, and she jumps.

“Oh! I… like cats…” Bree is not much of a public speaker. In fact, Bree isn’t much of a speaker at all.

“I’m Elise. I have terrible luck.”

“Is that your fault, though?” Oh, no. Of all people to comment on, he has to pick me?

“Depends.” I say to stall while I think up an escape route. “On whether you believe in the spiritual or not. If you think that walking under ladders or breaking… mirrors…” I pause and determinedly don’t look at Bree. “…is going to give you bad luck, then yeah, I guess it’s my fault. Maybe I’m just clumsy.”

“And how does that make you feel?” I glance around at the three other people who haven’t been introduced yet.

I’d definitely rather be back at the jail.

“I’ve gotten used to it. How about you?” I turn to the (insanely hot) guy on my right in desperation. “You haven’t been introduced yet, what’s your name?” He looks taken aback and about as desperate as I am.

“Now, now, Elise.” Garret says. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He clearly doesn’t know how to keep people from getting angry, because I think I’m about to lash out. Finally, in my moment of most need, the guy on my right rescues me.

“Well, maybe it just happens like that, and, like she said, she’s gotten used to it. And I’m James. I got dragged here by Thomas,” he nods to his right, to the scowling blond beside him, “because he didn’t have the guts to come alone.” Thomas glares. Garret doesn’t look too happy.

“That still –“

“I’m Thomas.” He juts in. Garret looks even more offended. Some anger management. “And I’m a writer.”

“Really?” Bree asks, her face lighting up. Oh. Oh, no. Please, Bree, don’t turn the spotlight onto me aga- “Elise is a writer too!”

“Is she?” Thomas says, sounding completely uninterested. James snorts. “Had anything published?”

He sounds so freakin’ smug. Okay, so I don’t have a book out. I’ve written for the newspaper before. That counts, right?

…Okay, so it was in seventh grade. He doesn’t have to know that.

“Right now, it’s mostly in journalism, but I have a manuscript almost finished that I hope to submit for publishing by the end of the year.” Which is severe hyperbole. I only have about three pages written.

“Oh.” He looks surprised that I actually have risen slightly above the street scum. But only slightly. “I’ll have to see that.”

“And you?”

Silence. That’s what I thought.

“And I’m Karen!” The short redhead on the end shouts suddenly. “I’m a college student!” Ouch. Sorry, Karen. I’m glad I’m done with that.

“Well, now that we’ve all gotten to know each other…” Garret says tautly, looking around at all of us. “How about we all discuss how our anger has affected our everyday lives. Anyone?” Seven blank faces greet him. “How about you, Lise? Can I call you Lise?”

“No.” James sniggers. Bree sighs.

“…Well.” Garret struggles to regain his composure. “Elise, then. How has anger affected your life in a negative way?”

How hasn’t it? “Well… Just about” I check my watch, “thirty minutes ago, I was in the county jail because I beat the crap out of my ex-fiancé with a book in the library.” Garret gives me a vacant look.

“Why?”

“Because he called me Lise.” A few people laugh outright, including Bree and James. Garret, on the other hand, looks scared.

“Really, she just hasn’t gotten over how Jared cheated on her.” Bree interjects.

“And is going to marry the woman he did with. Thank you for dredging up painful memories, Bree.” She just rolls her eyes, having gotten used to this long ago.

“Jared Wardlow?” Stella asks.

“Unfortunately.”

“Oh, you poor thing. I dated him back in high school. He’s the king of assholes. I hope you hit him hard with that book.”

“The binding did break.”

“Ooh, perfect! Where’d you get him?”

“That isn’t the point!” Garret suddenly steps in, but Bree interrupts him.

“You broke the binding on a library book? You mean I’m going to have to pay for that?” Karen, James, Thomas, and Rob are all laughing.

“The library knows nothing about it, and besides, it was old anyway.”

“Was it one of those giant old books that weigh, like, a ton?” Stella asks, sitting forward in her seat, an eager gleam in her eyes.

“Oh, yeah.”

“LADIES!”

In the silence, I hear one of the guys on my right mutter, “They weren’t kidding about that ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’ stuff, were they?” Garret glares in their direction.

“Now, then. Elise. Was that the right way to handle that situation?”

“No.”

“Right. What should you have done?”

“Hit him harder.” Stella gives me a high five and Bree laughs. Garret just puts his head in his hands.

“We’ll meet again next week. Same time. Goodbye, everyone.” With that, he gets up and walks out. I laugh and follow Bree out to her car.

“That went well, I’d say. Wouldn’t you?” I ask as she tosses me the keys and rolls her eyes. The lock on the driver’s side of Bree’s car doesn’t work, so I unlock my side and toss them back. When I open my door and look up, James is standing in front of me, grinning.

“Want to go out for coffee sometime?”

…Maybe I’m not so unlucky after all.