1 It's a great deal

'Hey Sam' one of my classmates called me.

I turned around uninterestingly to see the person who is bound to waste my time.

'Mr. Richards wants to see you, he is in classroom 305', he replied hurriedly bothered by my attitude and his welfare.

I groaned literally in front of him, but the boy didn't even dare to smile by my helplessness.

I am Samantha Richards, totally carefree and stubborn, but that's not the reason all my fellow classmates get intimidated by me. My father is Charlie Richards and he is physics professor in my high school and that is also not the reason either why all the people care to run away from me rather than talk to me. In my junior year, I have argument with one of my seniors and because of both our impatience we started fighting, but being tutored by self defense classes due to my father from early age, I am damn good at giving punches, so I scarred the shit out of people by beating the senior rather gruesome and even bunch of others are not able to free that senior from my grip. And that is the reason all are afraid of me. I am rather proud of my myself that day but my father is not, so as punishment and to induce discipline in me he put me in yoga and therapy classes to control my emotions. I feel that God has given emotions to embrace them but not to control them so that we don't feel. I felt frustrated for so long and stopped attending them but my evil father has started enrolling different art classes to sour my mood further. Well congratulations!! he won this round and being fed up with that art crap I surrendered myself to go to yoga and therapy classes. Yoga is not bad, as no one disturbs me, I would say that is one of my best classes so far but therapy sucks!!. I need to say or write everything I feel in the diary, Who the hell would do that, I am not interested in someone peeping into my life like that. I genuinely feel that with age we grew up with techniques to handle the emotions ourselves, and therapy is not needed at all but my father expects everything best from me.

I didn't remember much of my activities in the therapy class but I am sure that one of dumb tutors would have complained about me so that he summoned me for some lecture.

If that is true, I will show what real terror is to that tutor, I thought.

I went to third floor, and ready to push it when I heard my father talking on phone.

'I know honey, we have tried many things but she is not opening up to anything and I am not sure whether we are helping her or making things worse , I mean why does she always feel the anger in her'

.....

'I know honey, maybe she will be better when Mike comes back, we need to see whether he will be of any help for her'

.....

'Ok honey, we will talk in home bye' my dad hung up hastily but I hesitated to knock now because I suddenly felt that my father would think I was eavesdropping all the time in his conversation with mom, although it's true I don't want to embarrass myself in front of him.

I waited for 5 min outside without making any sound and smoothened myself out of nervousness and knocked the door and went in.

My father is working on some papers and felt my gaze, lifted his hand to gesture me to sit.

'How is your therapy class Yesterday Samantha', my father went straight to the point rather than beating around the bush. Although I like being called Sam, which is easy and short to take, my father always calls me Samantha which irritates me more but I got used to it.

'Dad you told me to attend the classes, not Excel in them right, why do you even bother how I perform in that class, If you still want my grades, I am performing outstandingly in my all other classes', I stated rather firmly knowing where the conversation is going.

'Sigh... I know you do very good in your academics that all your teachers come to me to praise you, but that's not the thing I am concerned about dear, I want you to be normal like other students and go out with other kids rather than penting up your emotions in yourself...'

I interjected my dad suddenly, 'Dad I don't have mood for this, please spare me for today!' I whined even though I know his next words would be against me.

'Okay, I don't want to argue you with that either, let us talk about something else then', his sudden diversion surprised me.

'Okay, what do you need to talk to me about', I questioned impatiently.

'Sigh... I know you are great in my subject so I want you to work with one of my students on a thesis which would help him great in his upcoming research'

''

And before I could say anything he interrupted me, 'He is not that bad to tolerate you and you to him, and in addition I will exempt you from attending your therapy classes if you agree, so what's say?'

he sounded feeling enthusiastic about his offer.

I contemplated for a minute and found nothing wrong with this arrangement but feeling that some catch might include in itself if my father is asking so I thought again to ask him this

'Who is the student, do I know him?'

'Oh, dear I think you know him, infact every person in school knows him, ..' my dad paused suddenly to see my expression and feeling positive from my reaction he continued, 'his name is Nick Davidson, our school principal's son'

He expected some reaction out of me, but I felt rather bored to hear his name.

As he is pretty decent in looks and academics, many students have crush on him, but she is not one among them so suck it up dad!

Unable to get response from me, my father inquired me

'Well.. what do you think do you accept this?'

seeing his patient look, I agreed.

'Its great deal dad, but I want you to remember your end clearly no therapy classes for me anymore'

I felt like eating shit rather than going to therapy, and What is Nick Davidson and who is he, just a guy right? what's there to fear about him

Anyway I am alive even after attending the deadly therapy class for a week, So, working with Nick Davidson could be more dangerous than that? I seriously doubt it.