Quinn felt kinda weird about this therapy thing.

What happened last term was.... not something he had talked about yet. To anyone. He thought his parents would be all over him about it during the summer, but....

....

Not having any outlet for how he felt made him sort of... bottle all that up. And now he was more comfortable with it in a bottle than spilling it all out into the open. But if it was mandatory, then...

Quinn walked up to the table with all the different kinds of bread on it. Quinn wanted to learn how to bake bread, but he knew it was much harder than the sweets he would normally bake with his Gram. She knew how to bake bread, though, but she said it's a really long process and that Quinn wasn't ready to help yet. Quinn hoped that one day he would be able to bake bread that smelled this good. He picked up a piece of banana bread from the table. Um... thanks, Ms. Poppy," he said softly before turning to the chairs.

Quinn looked around to find a place to sit. There didn't seem to be too many people here yet, but... there was Atlas. And Quinn started making his way over to him, but then remembered the look on Atlas's face in the alley and stopped in his tracks. But he couldn't just not go over there now, it had to look, you know... natural. Quinn instead went over to Mamie and sat down next to her. "Uh, hey, Mamie..!" Quinn said, trying to sound as if Mamie was who he was coming over to see the whole time. He stole small glances at Atlas to gauge his reaction—did Atlas want to see him? Was he told not to hang around Quinn? If he was, did he care? Were his fingers alright?