"You don't need to tell him," she shrugs. "Unless you want to, or would prefer me not to have given you this. I thought you'd enjoy it, though."

"I don't - sorry - um -" He puts the box lid back on and pushes it in her direction. "Just because - um - I do try to do what he tells me -"

"Oh, well," she says, taking it back. "Then I'll find another present." She shrugs.

"You don't have to do that, you know."

She shrugs again. "I know, but I still want to."

"Okay."

"And... kinda changing subject, there's another thing."

"What?"

"I looked it up in a bunch of books and such, and, uh, therapists apparently have enough leeway to break confidentiality if they so much as suspect abuse and 'abuse' isn't defined anywhere so it's like, pretty much a generally applicable excuse."

"Told you."

She sighs and nods. "You did. I'm sorry."

Shrug.

"Oh. I'm not on a diet or anything, I dunno."

"Huh. And are you doing anything for your birthday?"

"Not really. My moms sent me a card."

"Mason not taking you to dinner or something? Maybe some cake?"

"...I don't think I ever told him when my birthday is."

"Oh. Well, you should. Maybe he'll buy you something nice."

"Maybe," says Jackson.

"Hmm, would you like a tiny cactus?"

"What would I do with a tiny cactus?"

"I dunno. It's small and cute. Guessing that's a no. Hmmm, you're hard to buy gifts to. Perhaps I could buy you a book, wink wink nudge nudge."

"...what are you saying wink wink nudge nudge about."

"I like reading books and am trying to get you to like reading books, too. Come on, didn't you get the reference, I made this same joke like three months ago."