"So, you want to hear about my home life, right?"
I'm not an idiot. I know how these things are supposed to go. They want me to tell them whether there was some traumatic event in my past that made me the way I am. Like I'm some sort of freak. See, I like to take risks. Probably more than most people. Mommy and Daddy are afraid I'm going to get myself killed. They call it reckless self-endangerment.
I call it living.
"That would be a good place to start, Sequoia, yes."
"I go by Flynn," I remind her, not bothering to hide the irritation in my voice. It's our third session.
"Flynn," she corrects herself, but I know she doesn't really care. "Let's start at the beginning."
"The beginning?" I ask. Why do shrinks always have to be so vague? I guess it's better to just give them what they want rather than dragging it out. "Mom and Dad have always owned a bookshop. I stayed there a lot as a kid, and I would read stories about far off places and adventure and heroes. I never got to experience any of the things I read about, and that bothered me. They kept me locked up tight until I went to Salem."
"And what happened then? What changed?"
I force myself not to roll my eyes. "Less supervision. More kids my age. You know how it goes."
"I see." She doesn't. She couldn't possibly. "Why don't you like your first name, Flynn?"
I shrug. I'm about as American as they come -- if American means throwing as many nationalities as possible into one pot. My last name is English, or as near to it as we can figure. I'm sure I have plenty of Welsh blood in me, too. My great-grandfather on my dad's side was Irish, my middle name was after him. I like the name Flynn, it fits me much better than Sequoia. My great-great-grandmother on my mom's side was Cherokee, so I guess that's where that came from. I don't really ask questions because I don't really care. Most of them were magical, though, and I guess that's supposed to count for something.
"It's not me," I say simply. "Flynn's much better, don't you think?"
"I like Sequoia," she says. I actually roll my eyes this time.
"Sometimes," I smirk, leaning forward as if I'm about to divulge my deepest, darkest secret, "I like to study dark magic."
I've just earned myself another month of therapy. It doesn't matter - it's worth it to see the look on the shrink's face.