Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Tate snorts with laughter, nearly dropping his coffee in the process. “Oh, you’d really like Jude. A couple of grumpy peas in a pod.”
“He probably wouldn’t like me. Most people don’t.”
His amusement dies and the concern is back. “Why would you say that?”
“People don’t get me. I’m too…weird.”
“Weird? Explain.”
“My hobbies, my clothes, my mood swings. People don’t understand why I tend to get self-absorbed, hyper-focused on my projects, or just completely withdraw when I’m feeling overwhelmed, unloved, and misunderstood.”
Tate nods like this isn’t one of life’s mysteries but something he understands. It gives me hope that someone in this world might get me.
“Two, have you heard of the Enneagram?”
“The what?”
He chuckles. “The Enneagram. It’s a personality test. I’m pretty sure I know which one you are, but I think it would be helpful to see if you come to the same conclusion. You could also study all nine personality types. It might help you put family and friends into their categories, which would help you understand how to interact with them better. You might even start with Golden. See where she fits on the wheel. Then you can learn why you two seem to have friction.”
“Sounds like another dreadful assignment.”
“Oh, stop, drama king. It’s not dreadful. It’s fun.”
“Says the therapist.”
He rolls his eyes, looking far younger than his twenty-eight years. “Do it. For me. You owe me since I bought you coffee.”
“Isn’t that like an abuse of power or something?”
“Maybe if you’re a normal therapist. We’ve established I’m not.”
He sets his coffee down to go fetch his laptop. “It’s actually enlightening, Two. Learning about what makes others tick is fascinating. Humans are all so different, but oddly enough, we all fall into these nine categories.” Once he locates the site to take the test, he hands his laptop over to me. “Take the test. Once we find out what you are, I’ll give you resources to first learn about yourself. Sound good? Now hold down the fort while I run to the restroom.”
Since I’m being forced to, I oblige him and take the test. He comes back ten minutes later but sits quietly at his desk in the corner. Once I’m finished, I add my email to get the results.
“Done.”
“Good. Check your email.”
I set down the laptop to fish out my phone. Once I locate the email, I open it.
“The Individualist,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “Whatever that means.”
Tate’s grin is huge as he sits back down beside me. “Congratulations, Two, you’re a Four.” He hands me a stapled packet of papers that says Type Four at the top. “I knew it. Guessing people’s Enneagram types is a gift of mine.”
I take the papers from him and skim over the first page. Sensitive, withdrawn, dramatic, temperamental. “Nice. I’m an utter joy to be around.”
“Absolutely.” He beams at me. “You’ll learn all about your strengths and weaknesses and how to interact with others. I think you’ll really enjoy this once you dig in. Ready for homework?”
“For fuck’s sake. A full load of college courses isn’t enough?”
“Nope. You can handle more, Two.”
“What then?”
“I want you to try to identify Golden, your dads, or anyone else close to you. You can even try to identify me. Sound easy enough?”
“When?”
“Friday. I’ll bring coffee again. Want to try something new?”
“Nope. Get me the butterscotch truth serum.”
He cackles with laughter. “I paid extra for a shot of that. Glad to see it worked.”
“For the record,” I grumble, “I don’t like this.”
“No one ever likes working on themselves,” Tate reveals. “It’s hard and uncomfortable. We learn things about ourselves that might be shameful to us or silly. However, when you put the work in, you grow.”
“Is that a nice way of saying, ‘Grow up, Two,’?”
“Again with the dramatics.” He winks at me. “It means, let me help you flourish. You’re closed up tight, wrapped up around yourself. We’re going to peel back your layers so we can see all the intricate and beautiful parts that make you you.”
“You worm your way in with people, don’t you? Is that what happened with your fiancé?”
He nods, eyes twinkling. “And once I’ve chomped my way through, there’s no getting me out.”
His teasing words are comforting. Not many people, besides my dads and Dax, have stuck around for the long haul, continuing to put up with my eccentric shit.
“What if I stopped paying you?” I ask, testing him. “What then?”
He rolls his eyes. “Nice try. I’d help you for free. Now scoot along. I’m about to meet with my bestie at the craft store so we can pick out wedding favors. You’re totally invited to the wedding since we’re friends now.”
We’re friends now.
Just when I thought I could barely handle the only friend I have, I’m pleased at the prospect of having another.
Gemma
He’s been a dick to me both times I’ve spoken to him and then he randomly sends me some stupid personality test to take like we’re besties?