"Mr Johnson, what an unexpected meeting we have here," the school principal, Karen, sighed with a grimace clear on her face.

I wouldn't have expected that either......

"Hi Karen."

"Seems like you daughter, is heading into a different direction, sir. You know too well we have a strict policy around the school for the child's discipline actions, if not, we could take off and do anything possible to prevent that. Especially when we have a guest over for the advising lesson, who is a well known therapist around the country. He, himself would think otherwise of your daughter, and without further ado, would reflect Lia's actions to the rest of the class, and then to the rest of the school, and that is not fortunate for us," her irritating, formal tone finally stopped, making me wonder how Lia actually bared hearing her talk that way about her.

"Is it my turn now, Karen?"

"Yes."

"Firstly, I would like to clarify that you spend too much time accusing children for being spoiled brats, when your son is the big bully here-"

"Excuse me sir, I would not like you speaking of my son that way!"

"You didn't let me finish, miss," I shifted in my seat to look at her and her the disgusting attitude. "My daughter comes home from school everyday with a bruised arm, leg, and neck today. And it's all from your son! If this doesn't get fixed, I might have to take other actions and transfer her from this filthy school. I didn't spend money for nothing, this is a private school and it has to at least have a good, healthy atmosphere for children!"

"I don't care about you taking her papers, how could that possibly harm me?" She scoffed, making me face Lia, a smirk spread across my face.

"You will lose a great, straight A student....and cash. Money."

Her face immediately fell and she nervously chuckled, reaching out with her hand to pat Lia's shoulder. "Let's not be rough here, shall we?"

What a filthy gold-digger.

"Come on, Lia," I whispered, standing up, my glares never leaving the bitch sat on the chair.

That's right, BITCH.

We slowly left a room, closing the door when I felt Lia stumble backwards. "You alright?"

"I uhm am truly sorry," I looked at the tall, well dressed blonde, feeling my blood boil.

"Are you one of those useless teachers?!"

"No sir," his tone made my threatening, popped up finger slowly get lower. " I am Ross Lynch, a therapist, or as you could say, psychologist. I'm just here for the advising lessons. Also, I'm sorry about your daughter."

"I'm not. Wouldn't have talked to the principal about her first ever bad behavior throughout her school years," rolling my eyes, I felt Lia uncomfortably shift, looking down, shyly. We seriously have to work on that.

His big hands reached for my daughter's hair, swiping it off her face to reveal the huge, colored marks on her neck. I felt his breath hitch as they traveled to her chin to raise it up.

"You're very strong, Lia."

'You're very strong, Lia.'

I'm not strong. I was never strong.

I only experienced strength today in front of Ted.

And was almost going to get suspended by the cause of it.

How could he possibly give me so much power by just one single sentence? To make me miss on a whole period just because he said that.

Ugh, Focus Lia!

"Class dismissed!"

Great.

It's home time now and all I had on my book was a scribble. I couldn't focus....I couldn't put my mind straight! Even finding my way out was hard.

Finding dad's car was harder.

But right as I saw him, everything came to me. And I knew exactly what I needed.

"Dad. I need therapy."

"Sorry?" Was all he could have choke out. He thought I was joking. "I didn't hear that..."

"I need a therapist, a psychologist! I'm losing my mind, I thought it should only happen at night, when I'm close to sleep, but it's increasing! I'm always depressed, I never take a compliment, my mind is very loud! And I'm the lonely shy dork at school who can't walk properly- just Please, help me,"

"A therapist, Lia?" He sighed, softly reaching for my back to pat it. "Tell me, sweetie, what is it?"

"I can't tell you what it is, I don't know what it is. So please, I'm begging please. Any therapist around us. Dad, it's not a joke," I da a hand through my hair, holding back every piece in me to not cry. I hated crying in public, or in front of anyone in general.

"I really hope we don't regret this."