I'm not as confident as I look. (Dr. Sean)

[Glads Thompson]

Glads was just slightly confused as to why he had been called into Doctor Neville's office, but he didn't really mind. He really liked Sean, as did his mother. So Glads sat patiently in a rather comfortable chair and looked down at himself. Today had been a more "boy-ish" day, and he was dressed in torn jeans and a Hammel tee shirt.  As he picked a stray little tuft of fuzz from his shirt, Glads let his mind slip away to thoughts of Travis. 

Why hadn't he called in awhile? Were all the fears Glads held deep inside truly founded in reality? All these thoughts made his stomach turn a little. It was hard for it not to. After all, he had kissed the man. The much older man, the one he definitely shouldn't fall for. 

"Uhg, why are you doing this to yourself?" Glads whispered to himself as he slumped back in his chair. A position that was rather unusual for the confident boy. Maybe that's why he was there. Maybe his mother noticed a little waver in his stride. Either way, there was no time to think about that. The door made a creaking sound and Glads set up straight and put on a large smile. 

[Dr. Sean Neville]

One of the benefits of telepathy was that Sean had an additional method of alerting himself to issues that affected the students, either collectively or as individuals. The psychiatrist liked Glads, and, due to the boy’s history, he had sorted his file out upon his initial arrival at Hammel, flagging him as someone that Sean would want to speak to. They had met before, and Glads was polite to him, albeit with an undercurrent of anxiousness that he hid behind a layer of confidence, and even if many of his other issues remained unaddressed up to a certain point.

Eventually, it became apparent that Glads couldn’t continue that way; at least, it became apparent to Sean as a psychiatrist, as a telepath, and as a responsible adult. As a result, he had taken the only reasonable course of action, which led to arranging this meeting.

The psychiatrist had left to pick up an additional file, and, when he returned, he saw that Glads had already arrived. Offering him a smile, Sean greeted him and crossed to his desk. “Good afternoon, Glads.”

Setting the file down on his desk, he slid into his seat so he could face the boy. “How are you today?”

Not “what brings you here” since Sean had beckoned him.