Apathy Jack writes:
Namedropper by Emma Forrest
I liked the idea of therapy – it was something I had heard Woody Allen talk highly of. I could tell Manny was worried that everyone would think I was a five-year-old freak because he kept saying, ‘If you have a session that clashes with a lesson, just tell your friends you have to go to Hebrew class.’
‘No way,’ I choked, ‘that’s so embarrassing,’ and every time I had an appointment I’d raise my hand and say ‘Miss Mathews, I have to be excused. I have an appointment with my therapist.’
She’d blush and whisper, ‘Oh, your therapist’ as if ‘therapist’ were actually a code word for ‘Hebrew Lesson’. Teachers are so weird.