Title: Confessions of the chronically oversexed
Chapter one: Therapy
--Ten weeks, four days into summer
Confession #1: When I go to Wal-Mart, I pick up some of those cheap romance novels and bring them into the bathroom so I can jack off to the sex scenes. Tell anyone and you're dead. (But mostly I'm dead.)
"You know, I told them I didn't need to see a shrink. I have a shrink. But no…they never listen to me. They're the ones with the problems!"
I muttered angrily, like a kid throwing a tantrum in the doctor's office. Except, I was a teenager, and I was in a psychiatrist's office watching a pencil thin middle aged brunette scribble in a notepad about how incredibly insane I was.
(God, I hate my parents. I don't need a shrink!)
"So, you already have a psychiatrist? Why come here?" The brunette…Dr. E, Elba smiled and folded her hands on her lap.
"Well, not technically a licensed psychiatrist, but a shrink. An inner shrink," I fidgeted.
(Well, that doesn't sound crazy at all!)
Dr. Elba frowned, and scribbled something down.
(Stop that, damn you.)
"An inner shrink? What's that?" She asked calmly, as if she wasn't already getting ready to admit me to some nuthouse.
"I…It's just talking to myself. Everyone talks to themselves. I do it to calm myself down," I frowned as I saw Dr. Elba raise her eyebrows.
"So, how often do you need calming down?"
I decided to choose my words carefully.
"Just when I'm stressed," I smiled.
(Oh, I've gotcha now. Can't write anything down now, can you?!)
Dr. Elba lifted her pad, and then lowered it.
"That's exactly why you were recommended here by your mother and father. They've said you've been having a hard time dealing with stress…especially having to do with one person in particular," she smirked.
(Oh damn, you're good.)
My left hand began twitching, and I tried to steady myself by picking lint off the arm chair I had settled myself down in moments before.
"A…Daisy?" She asked.
I practically turned into a puddle of sweat trying to contain a barrel of conflicting emotions at the sound of her name.
"I don't really see what she has to do with anything!" I shouted, and then clamped a hand over my mouth.
Me: Dammit! Shut up!
Me: You're the one yelling, just stay quiet!
Me: You stop! Stop it right now!
Me: Stop thinking about her!
"—Aiden?!" Dr. Elba grabbed me by my shoulders, and shook me until I stopped.
(Hey! Where the hell did you get your license from?!)
"Stop, I'm fine…" I pushed her hands away and sighed heavily.
Elba took her seat once more, looking more flustered than me. For about five minutes, we sat in silence while she scribbled something down urgently.
"She seems to be the source of your mania. Can you tell me a little about her?"
"What is there to say? She's a girl I know. That's it," I folded my arms over my chest and grumbled.
Dr. Elba nodded, and then smiled.
"Your mother said you liked her quite a bit but she…." Elba flipped over a sheet on a different pad of paper and read for a minute. "She's in London doing a skating program."
(Screw ice skating)
"Fine. I miss her," I blurted suddenly.
(Will that get you off my back?)
Dr. Elba seemed pleased with herself.
"Good start. So what have you been doing while she's away? Have you been sending letters?"
"She didn't give me the address." I muttered, and the questions began to pick up.
"Are you two dating?"
"So have you been out on any dates?"
I paused to think long and hard. Daisy and I hadn't really established anything before she left. I should have felt better about the idea of dating.
"I…It'd feel wrong," I mustered.
Dr. Elba gave me a puppy dog look.
"I know you feel very connected to this Daisy girl, but setting yourself up for—
"—are you saying I have no chance or something?" I snapped.
"What? No, of course not. I'm just stating that your current condition is filled with stress and mania which have been brought on by the sudden stress of Daisy's departure. You should let yourself go until she returns."
"But I want her. Her!" I shouted.
Me: Stop fucking yelling!
Me: I know! Just--
"—Aiden, Aiden!" Dr. Elba snapped her fingers in front of my face, and I immediately came back to reality.
"Well, according to your mother, she comes back in three days. What are you worried about?" Dr. Elba was now the one heaving a sigh.
(Bullshitting wears you out, huh?)
"I just…I'm afraid…I…"
I broke out into a blush that began to spread to my neck and ears.
"What? What are you afraid of?" Elba leaned in closer, moving the tape recorder on her desk farther towards me.
"I'm afraid I'm not enough for her," I said quietly.
(There it is. Maybe she didn't hear me.)
Dr. Elba seemed to relax a little, but then tapped her pen on her upper lip.
"Yeah and…" I lifted a hand to my head, pulling roughly at the tousled brown locks. "I mean…I'm not exactly really stable…mentally."
"How do you mean?" She asked bluntly, obviously thrilled at getting me to spill.
I began picking at loose fluff on the armchair, blushing again.
"I guess I know the talking to myself thing is kind of…out there but…I'm also sort of a closet pervert." I chuckled weakly. "Okay, so I'm sort of halfway in, halfway out."
"And, well…I think about sex all day. Before she left, it used to be with porn stars or girls at school, but now it's just her! I'm afraid that when she comes back I'll…you know…act on it."
Dr. Elba smiled in a motherly fashion, and set her notepad down. That made me feel a hell of a lot better.
"These thoughts are very normal for a young man such as yourself. It's all part of growing up, you know."
"R-right," I stammered.
"But it's different when you lose touch with reality. Do you think you might possibly hurt this girl?"
"Like rape or something? I…I…no. No. I couldn't," I said firmly, trying to gather a bit of the dignity I had left.
Elba stared at me for a while, and then nodded.
"Have you ever thought of seeing a sex therapist?" she asked.
"A what?" I turned scarlet.
"It'd be one on one, like now with me, and you'd be able to freely express your sexual worries, tendencies and habits. Maybe even work out a plan to keep some of your moods down," Elba offered.
(Oh great, I'm a total case.)
"I…I don't know. I didn't even want to come here," I began pulling at my hair more anxiously.
(Plus, what if my friends find out? I'll be a laughing stock!)
Dr. Elba shrugged.
"Our session is over, but you should really think about it. Dr. Williams is fantastic, and he's only the next door over. You can see him at our scheduled time together when he has a slot open. Just make an appointment," she handed me a slip of paper with the doctor's name and number.
"I'll think about it," I muttered, and took the slip reluctantly as I left.
As soon as I got out, I let go of the breath I'd been holding. After that half hour of humiliation, nothing, and I mean nothing could make me feel better.
--- Dakara daiji na mono wa itsumo
Katachi no nai mono dake
Te ni iretemo nakushitemo
Kizukanumama!! Sousa kanashimi wo yasashisa ni jibun---
The vibrating midi/like voice jingle in my pocket startled me as I left the building. I figured it was mother calling to let me know she was running a little late on picking me up, but the number wasn't one I recognized.
"Hello?" I asked, slightly agitated.
There was some heavy breathing on the line, and then the sound of a female gasp.
"Aiden?" the voice asked quickly.
"Uh yeah, who is this?" I frowned.
"It's Daisy!" she voice blurted suddenly, and I went red for the billionth time that day.
(Daisy…I can practically feel your boobs – I mean breasts right now…)
"Hey, I've been thinking about you, you know?" I began pacing, shoving one hand in my pocket and then taking it out as I circled the parking lot.
"I know. I'm sorry I didn't phone you. They don't allow mobiles here, and I couldn't remember your address to post a letter," Daisy's voice was muffled, and I could hear the slight British in her voice.
"You sound weird," I smiled, thinking about her.
"I'm in a bloody—I mean, damn closet!" she snapped, and I recoiled. It was the first time I'd heard her like that.
I couldn't help but chuckle.
"S-sorry, sorry," I offered my apology.
There was a long sigh, and then a bit of silence.
"No, I'm sorry. I just keep thinking someone's gonna find me. I'm supposed to be doing drills on the ice right now. The teacher's a guy so I just said I had "female trouble" to sneak out," she giggled.
"But…so how are you Aiden?" she asked.
All of a sudden, I tensed and felt heat rising in the pit of my stomach.
"I…well, I'm doing fine. Well. I'm doing well."
"That's good. I can't wait to get back over there. I might be able to get out a day early. Isn't that exciting? I think it is! I'm excited just thinking about it!" she sounded as if she was smiling.
I felt my body twitch suddenly, and covered the rise in my jeans with a palm, trying not to look unnatural.
"Y-yes. I know what you mean." I forced a smile as if she was there.
"Anyway, I miss you, and we'll talk a lot more when I get home. I promise we'll go ou—Ah!" she screamed suddenly and I nearly dropped the phone.
"Daisy!" I shouted on the line.
There was silence, then a fit of giggles.
"Chris, you jerk! Don't do that!" Daisy sounded father off now, but I could still her laughing.
Immediately afterward, there were a series of loud thudding noises, and then a male chuckle.
"You're not supposed to be in here…who are you talking to?" it whispered.
(Who the hell are you?!)
"Don't…I'm talking to a friend…" Daisy sounded strained now. "Ah…"
"Daisy?!" I shouted again.
(Pick up the phone again, dammit!)
"Ah, I'm sorry Aiden. I've gotten caught. .." Daisy giggled. "I have to go! I'll see you, alright?"
But before I could finish my sentence the phone was disconnected. I flipped my phone shut in anger, and jammed it into my back pocket as a black BMW pulled up beside me with the top down. To my surprise, my mom was inside, dangling a set of car keys.
"Is this part of some middle age crisis?" I frowned.
"No, idiot. It's yours," she tossed me the keys, but I threw them back and got into the passenger's side.
I had been literally begging for a car since last year when I passed my driver's test, and I suppose my mother taking pity on my depression was a good enough reason to get one. She always insisted on me working for everything, but I suppose now was as good a time as any to try and cheer me up.
"I'm not in the mood. I'll crash into something."
"Hmph. Not the reaction I expected, you spoiled little f—
"—not now mom," I sighed hopelessly.
"Did something bad happen with the psychiatrist?" My mom glanced at me while driving.
I decided to avoid that topic altogether.
"Daisy called," I blurted.
"I thought that would be a good thing?" she raised an eyebrow, and suddenly my mood dimmed even further, if possible.
I sighed, and figured I'd dropthat as well.
"So did I."
A/N: And there we have it, chapter one of Confessions of the Chronically Oversexed. Chapter two will be way funnier, but this was mainly to set up the problem: Aiden thinks he's not good enough for Daisy, and he's so insecure that he feels as if she's cheating on him. Meanwhile, his family's selling him out as a psycho and his bodily urges are taking over. And for you drama freaks out there, there's gonna be a lot of weird romance/drama conflicts when Daisy comes home.