Fendway College

I've got this one student, name's James. He's pretty popular, all of his friends call him Jude or Jules or something, but I like to keep it professional. James comes in once every month, or once every 4 months, with a busted lip, or no left shoe, or a lit fag in his mouth. I don't really like James. Neither does the administration--Gia tells me all sorts of stories about the pranks he pulls, his outstanding truancy records. He's an imp.

But I don't tell Gia or anyone about how he comes to the counselor's office every once in a while. 

James will start after making light convo about my desk decorum and new haircut.

"You ever have one out to that?" about the photo of my ex-wife I still have on my desk.

"The combover-it's coming back!" about my male pattern baldness.

He takes a seat. I offer him some snacks, the period bell rings, he sends me a glance, and I close the blinds accordingly. He starts telling me about this dream he had a few nights ago.

"Right. So there I am, yeah? Driving on this long winding road in country somewheres-lotta trees. And-I'm running from somefing."

I've learned that James doesn't like when you stare at him when he's opening up, so I pretend to take notes, as if that's doing a bloody thing. I'm not a shaman.

"It's like I'm trying to gain som' distance on this fing and make it seem smaller or somefing. Y'know. And I'm older. Then" He points his hand out in front of him "There's this deer, in the road."

He starts holding back tears as he tells me about how he slammed on his breaks but he had so much momentum that the car just barreled towards the doe and smashed it to pulp.