Confession #13: I usually messed s**t up worse when I tried to fix my mistakes.
I didn’t look back as I walked away, and it felt really shitty and lonely. She was such an unusual girl, a breath of fresh air; I wanted to turn around and go back to sit in her company longer.
But I remembered I needed to see a teacher about a girl.
I wandered the halls for about fifteen minutes before finally winding my way down a back corridor and glancing inside an open doorway before I found her.
Dr. Janison sat at a desk in an office that was roughly the size of a cardboard box and didn’t even have windows. Watching her studiously read the screen of the computer in front of her, I shook my head. How could a woman from Willowbrook Terrace be a teacher at a community college? Granted, Waterford was well
