Casting Shadows by Sophie McKenzie Page B

came up for tea and Gemma baked a big chocolate cake. I got money for clothes from Mum and Dad, a
book from Leo and a pretty pair of earrings from Flynn. Both Grace and Emmi called and texted too with promises of presents when we next met.
    It felt a bit weird. Still, being here – at the commune and at the college – was what I had wanted. According to Emmi and Grace everything was different at Langton now anyway.
    And, here, I had Flynn.
    Before we knew it, the first four weeks had passed and it was time for me to attend Flynn’s group counselling class with him. That evening we stayed late after college,
then walked up the road to the Norton Therapy Centre. I was feeling really nervous at this opportunity to join in tonight. I’d asked both Gemma and Flynn what to expect but Gemma just said it
would be better not to have preconceptions while Flynn wouldn’t talk about it at all.
    ‘I don’t know, Riv,’ he said. ‘Sometimes it makes sense. Sometimes it’s like we’re all just talking about nothing.’ He paused. ‘Still, I’m
sure it helps.’
    The room the session was held in was like a big school hall, with a scuffed wooden floor and a bunch of plastic chairs arranged in a circle.
    I sat down next to Flynn. He held my hand, looking bored. My heart was thumping, I was so worried I was going to do or say the wrong thing. Most of the other people in the group were already
there. They were all boys, Flynn had told me, between the ages of fourteen and eighteen. Most seemed to have come with their mothers, though a few were with their girlfriends and a couple with
their dads. At least there was no one here from Norton Napier.
    I shivered. Flynn squeezed my hand. ‘Don’t worry, Riv,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing to be nervous about.’
    A moment later the counsellor, Sally, turned up. She was about Mum’s age, wearing jeans and a tunic top. She had short, spiky hair held off her face with a long purple scarf.
    ‘Hi, everyone,’ she drawled, in an American accent just like the one Flynn had imitated the other day. ‘I’m real pleased to see you all. Tonight we’re going to
focus on the effects of anger on those around us and as part of the process I would like each of the guests here tonight to tell the person they came here with how their anger has impacted on their
lives.’
    I gulped. Was I going to have to speak in front of all these people? Flynn leaned over and whispered in my ear. ‘You can say anything you like, Riv. I know what to do.’
    I frowned, not sure what he meant.
    But Sally was already asking the first person to speak.
    It was one of the mums. Like most of the other parents in the room, she was drawn and tired-looking, with an anxious expression on her face. Her son, who looked about fourteen, sat beside her,
slouched in his chair. He didn’t look up as she spoke in a trembling voice, explaining how his temper had led to the break-up of her relationship with her boyfriend, and how she felt torn
between loving her son and being scared of him.
    After a little gentle probing from Sally, the woman admitted her son had hit her several times when she tried to stop him going out with mates she didn’t approve of. Then Sally turned to
the son, who’d sat sullen and silent the whole time. She asked him how hearing what his mum had to say had made him feel.
    He grunted, ‘Dunno.’ Eventually Sally got him to admit he did feel bad after hitting his mum, though he kept saying he thought it was partly his mum’s fault for winding him up.
‘Because once I’m off on one, there’s nothing that’ll stop me. It’s, like, not my fault. You can’t control it.’
    At this Sally smiled and started talking about responsibility. She explained how everyone had to own their anger. How if you blamed someone else for winding you up what you were really saying
was that they were in control of you, instead of you being in control.
    The boy nodded but I didn’t get the impression he’d