expect the unexpected ↠ pacey witter

f o u r

I fall face first on my bed, my first day wasn't bad. I genuinely liked my teachers, I saw a few familiar faces in my classes. It was just mentally draining. The anxiety build up to the first day came crashing down on me around fifth period. I still had three more hours left of school at that point, and all I wanted to do was curl in bed and sleep since I haven't been able to all week.

I walked home myself, I didn't wait for Dawson. I didn't want to see him. He didn't check in on me at all today. Whenever I saw him he was with Joey, he smiled and waved but never once tried to come over even after I openly avoided waving back to him in the hallway. Pacey stopped me in the hallway a few times just to check in, and he doesn't know about my anxiety.

         I hear a knock at my door, and groan into the pillow. "What?!" I whine.

        "It's Dad, can I come in?" He asks from the other side of the door.

        "Yeah come in," I say, I force myself into sitting position and lean against my headrest. "What's up?"

       "Just wanted to check in on your first day, how was it?" He asks gently. He hesitates and then sits on the edge of my bed. "Your anxiety was okay?" He asks softly, as if he says it loud enough it may scare my anxiety awake.

        I give him a small smile, "it was good. Pacey actually helped me a lot this morning. I almost had an anxiety attack walking to school and he answered all my questions and distracted me by asking about my favorite book when I started to get overwhelmed. He checked in with me in the hallways at school too to make sure I was still okay."

       "That's good! I'm glad," he pauses. "Your brother didn't check in at all?" He asks.

        "Nope," I say popping the P. "He was too busy with Joey to check in on me," I say and the bitterness isn't hidden in my voice.

         Dad sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he's getting a headache. "I told him to keep an eye on you."

         I shrug. "It's whatever."

         "He didn't even walk home with you?" Dad presses.

         "I didn't wait for him. I was a little upset he didn't care about how I was feeling about school so I kinda left without telling him," I smile sheepishly.

        Dad gives me a pointed look, "he's probably freaking out."

        "Good. It'll show he actually cares about me," I mumble.

          "Sweetheart," Dad says reaching out to grab my hand. He gives it a small squeeze before he clears his throat, "your brother is at the age where he's starting to notice girls."

         I groan, "gross dad! I don't want to talk about Dawson's romantic life with you."

        "What im trying to get at is, he cares about you, you know he does. He's your brother and at the end of the day that's never going to change," he pauses and then shrugs helplessly. "He's just distracted."

         "Please don't defend him, right now," I grumble. "He's one of three people in my life who know about my anxiety. He has first hand see me send myself into a downward spiral over walking into the same dentist we've been going too since we had gotten our first cleaning! He knows how big of a deal today was for me, and how scared I must of been and he didn't check in once. Not even the week leading up to school."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I'm going to have a talk with him —"

"I don't want his pity sympathy, Dad." I say cutting him off. "It's fine, genuinely it's fine. I guess we're just at the age where we're not as close and that's fine." He gives me another look, "please, don't say anything. I will talk to him if it will make you feel better."