Countdown

Chapter Ten -- FOUR DAYS AGO 4:58 PM

Danielle's P.O.V.

    "Excuse me? Are you okay?" I asked a guy, violently shaking in his seat in the back corner of the city bus. He looked up to me, fear in his eyes. Something was wrong. "What's wrong?"

    "It's n-nothing," he stuttered.

    "Obviously it's not," I replied, taking a seat next to him.

    His chest was rising and falling quicker than I've ever seen. His clothes were torn and dirty. Once he turned his head all the way towards me, I gasped. He had a black, swollen eye with tears falling down his cheeks and a busted lip.

    "What happened?" I asked, sounding more like a demand than a question. He turned away timidly, obviously embarrassed.

    "Why should I spill all my deepest secrets to a pretty stranger like you?"

    I blushed at his compliment as he flushed in embarrassment of speaking his thoughts aloud.

    "Sometimes a stranger is all you need. You can't care if they judge you because you'll never see them again," I explained, taking ahold of his hand as it shook. "Tell me, and I'll listen."

    "I'm just weak, like my father says. It's nothing you need to worry about. Trust me. If he knew..." He trailed off, looking off into a different place. The fear grew inside him and his breath caught in his throat. He coughed. His cheeks grew a bright red. "Sorry."

    "You are not weak," I assured. "Why are you so worried? Is something going on?"

    "My father, he...I can't, I can't. He'll --" He spoke in incoherent phrases. It was hard to understand, but I knew it was terrible. Suddenly he leaned over and put his head in his hands, trying to breathe.

    "Are you okay?" I questioned for like the hundredth time tonight. What's happening? He shook his head, uncomfortable and freaked out about his lack of oxygen and situation. He was having an anxiety attack. What did we learn about in Psychology about them? I smiled as I figured out what to do. "Hey, look at me."

    He peered up. Placing my hands on either side of his head, I leaned in and placed my lips on his. I let them mold into place, then once he kissed back, I let them move in sync. Before I pulled away, the kiss lingered as butterflies erupted inside my stomach.

    His breathing returned to normal.

    "How did you do that?" he asked, his lips even more plump than before.

    "I read that holding your breath can stop anxiety attacks," I answered. A smile spread across my face as he looked at me with an impressive expression on his. "I'm Danielle, by the way."

    I stuck out my hand for him to shake, and when he did, he replied, "I'm Tyler."

I awoke to someone's hand planted on my arm, rubbing it comfortably with their thumb. Instantly, I tensed. He stopped and removed his hand, but I kept my eyes shut tight.

    Once I heard the door shut, I turned over in the mattress, thinking about how weird what just happened was. It was as if he was trying to make me feel better about all of this, like he was comforting me.

    The familiar smell of chicken noodle soup filled my senses, making my mouth water. On the night stand laid a bowl of my favorite soup. My stomach rumbled loudly.

    I haven't eaten since...dinner with Tyler? That long ago? I haven't even thought about eating the whole time I've been here. I guess that's what happens when you're stressed and scared out of your mind.