Cal kept quiet as Mr. Brown spoke to her. She took another deep drag on her cigarette, finding a great deal of comfort from the warm glow in her gut. She quietly interrupted him, the cigarette pushed up against her lips. "Do you think you could call me Cal? Or at least Callie. I don't really like being called Ms. Evans..." She felt awkward being called anything other then Cal, even some of her teachers and her parents and friends called her by her nickname. She avoided eye contact as she ran her free hands through her short hair. 

She remained silent as Mr. Brown continued talking, asking her why she didn't just become a resident. Cal chewed on her cheek nervously, should she tell him the truth? Or maybe just part of the truth would make her feel better. Anyway, she felt like she would be able to confide some things in this man. This guy was being payed to listen to whiney teenagers all day, so hearing another wouldn't do him any harm. "Well...ya'know...I don't really think I need to take up residency." She kept her eyes away from Mr. Brown, instead looking at the furniture around the room. "I...uh..." She started to clam up, as if suddenly uncomfortable with talking about herself. 

Cal crossed her arms over her chest, tapping the unlit end of the cigarette against her lip. "I just don't think therapy is the thing for me...I have nothing to share and nothing worth sharing." Cal stole a single look up at Mr. Brown before looking back down, hoping he didn't see her look at him. "But...yeah what you said...it's too much of a hassle. I'm just taking the free bed and food while I do other...stuff..." God she hated talking to adults.