So I just tested the door to make sure it wasn't locked, and it wasn't. No surprise there.
I let myself inside, and I couldn't help but smile.
Lee was lying on his bed, his head arched backwards as he stared at his computer, Netflix blaring throughout his dorm room.
This boy, I swear.
He smiled at me as I walked in, and I shut the door behind me.
"Hey," he said, reaching over and pausing his Netflix, simulatenously flipping himself over to his stomach.
"Hey," I greeted, heading over to his futon.
I plopped down next to him on his futon, shooting him a smile. "Breaking Bad, really?" I teased.
I'd watched Better Call Saul this past Sunday. He wouldn't watch it until he finished Breaking Bad, but I liked to give him little spoilers just to irk him.
But before I could say anything, his body tensed next to me, and he abandoned the futon, crossing his dorm room with his back to me.
I stood up as well, my heart pounding in my chest as he stopped next to his closet. I could hear him hyperventilating, his shoulders shaking.
"Shit, I'm sorry," I apologized, as I rose to my feet.
I wasn't one to curse, which was ironic because Lee was the King of the f-bomb.
But I should've waited. I should've let him invite me to sit down. I should've done this differently.
He didn't know I was coming over, and as he liked to tell me, his mind and body weren't always on the same wavelengths.
Lee didn't say anything to me, his breathing becoming more labored as his entire upper body shook.
I felt frozen, paralyzed with fear.
I'd never been in this type of situation before. I'd only seen Lee have a panic attack once before, at the Halloween Hop. And Warren had materialized at out of thin air, as he had a habit of doing. Warren had been there to comfort not only Lee but me as well, because I felt like a fish out of water.
But now as I stood here, watching Lee slowly slide to the floor, his arms wrapped around his shins as he hyperventilated, I felt absolutely helpless.
There had to be something I could do for him.
I couldn't just let him sit there like some kind of wounded puppy.
I felt tears build up in my own eyes, and my eyes slid over to Lee's phone, which was resting on the edge of the bed.
Maybe I should call Warren. Or Parker. Or somebody. What was the kid's name that Lee was going with today? The kid that liked Mercedes?
I looked back over at Lee, who had buried his head in his knees, curled up into a little ball.
The minutes ticked by like hours, and I was acutely aware of my own heart pounding in my chest, the fear pressing against my chest.
I know that it wouldn't be helpful, because his panic attacks are caused by Claustrophobia, but all I wanted to do was take him in my arms and wipe his tears away and wait for this attack to pass with him. Because that's really all the help I could offer.
And the bery little help I could offer was utterly useless to him.
I slowly lowered myself to the floor as the time ticked by, my back resting against the futon behind me.
After what felt like hours, his body slowly unfurled, and I felt the fear release a bit inside of me.
Maybe the worst of it was over.
YOU ARE READING
Jefferson Lake (MBBF Spin-Off)Teen Fiction
*Spin-off of My Brother's Best Friend *Trigger Warning: This book deals with issues such as self-harm, Anorexia, and depression. Lee Adams is what people tend to call "high-maintenance". He feels as though he has absolutely no control over his emoti...