*trigger warning | panic attacks*
"IF YOU FALL in, I won't rescue you. I own a surf shack and teach kids to surf. I'm not a lifeguard."
Atlas has made his feelings very clear on my idea. His tone of voice gave away that he thinks it's the worst idea in the world and I can't help but snort at his admission. He shakes his head as we walk down the wooden steps that lead to the smaller beach across from his apartment block. Both of us carrying our surfboards and me with a beach bag.
Ever since I brought up the idea of the favor I needed help with, he was reluctant. I know my therapist has been on me about baby steps, but maybe a bigger push is what I need.
"Nice to know I can count on you," I deadpan, and he shrugs, turning his head slightly to face me as he walks in front of me with a small smile on his face.
"So, if that was to happen to me, you'd jump in and rescue me?" Atlas provokes, testing me as we place our boards down on the sand. He places his hands on his hips as he stands in front of me, wearing a rash guard and board shorts, like my own rash guard and bikini bottoms, looking at me and I keep quiet. He laughs. "See, you're just as bad as me."
"I'd struggle to pull your body weight out of the water," I scoff, and he places his hand on his heart, feigning hurt.
"Are you calling me fat?" He exaggerates and I roll my eyes before he lifts his rash guard up a little, revealing his toned abs that he looks down at. "My mirror has been lying to me all this time."
I shake my head and can't help but laugh. "You must have one of those fun house mirrors."
"Harsh, sunshine. Harsh."
"Is sunshine really what you're sticking with?" I ask him, and he thinks about it for a minute, tapping his chin for emphasis.
"It's ironic, don't you think? It suits you." Atlas winks and I sigh. Guess we're sticking with it.
Kneeling on the sand, I grab my wax comb from the bag and scrape off all the old wax. Atlas lies on the sand as I do, as he already had waxed his board for the season. Meanwhile, mine haslaid in the dust since my accident and hasn't been waxed in that time. Waxing my board used to be therapeutic for me, but I couldn't bring myself to at all since being here. Not when I knew I wasn't getting back on it.
"Don't you usually visit June today?" I ask Atlas since it's day off and that means his day to visit June.
"Yeah, but she took a water aerobics class and they go out to the rec centre in the town, so I'm not going today," Atlas says, resting his arms behind his head as he basks in the sun.
"Water aerobics?" I ask, amused, as I apply the base coat.
He nods his head. "Unfortunately."
I chuckle. "Why do you say that?"
"Because when she told me about it last time, Margery mentioned the instructor is a young muscly man and you don't want to know what they said. So now when I go back next time, I'm dreading hearing how it went," Atlas says, shuddering and I can't help but laugh at his uncomfortableness.
"You don't want to hear about elderly ladies fawning over a handsome man?" I ask, and he shakes his head. "Because last time I checked, they fawn over you."
Atlas waves me off. "That's different. I don't need to hear about June's sexcapades."
"I'm sure she knew about some of yours growing up, so it's only fair." He dodges the wax that I throw at him. I start to finish by putting the topcoat on.
I finish waxing my board before I strap the cuff to my ankle as Atlas stands up. He looks down at the surfboards on the sand and shakes his head. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"I guess we'll find out," I say, and he doesn't look reassured at all. "You don't have to stay."
"If you're going to do something stupid, you need a witness here to remind you about it in the future to make sure you don't do more stupid things." Atlas sighs, before bending down and cuffing his ankle. "For the record, though, I would like to state this is stupid."
"Noted."
"I'm serious, Thalia." Atlas scolds, and I turn to look at him. He sighs, picking up his board and walking over to me. "You shouldn't push yourself so much. It might do more harm than good."
"Weren't you the one offering to help me?" I raise my eyebrow and he rubs his temple.
"With baby steps. You haven't been able to get past your knees in the water," he reminds me, and I shrug.
"I can climb on my board before that," I argue and he sighs, looking up at the sky.
"You're a stubborn thing."
"Atlas, this is something I want to try. For myself, I want to know my limits. I-I want to know if I can do it," I breathe, and he looks at me before his shoulders slump and he nods. "Shouldn't you be happy that I trust you enough to do this with you here?"
"Ask me after we get out of the water."
I follow him as he walks towards the ocean. He dives into the water with his board, and I stay stood on the sand. He paddles a few feet away before straddling his board and turning towards me.
I can do this.
Taking a breath, I take a few steps towards the ocean. It all seems to happen in slow motion, like I'm in a trance state with my body moving, but my mind hasn't caught up. As I climb on my board, I can feel the water lapping against my feet. I can feel my hands move through the water as I paddle and I can see Atlas watching me like a hawk as I do.
I can feel myself come to a stop next to Atlas, straddling the board. I try to focus on the way the water feels against my hands. The way the board feels under my body, but the memories of that day come rushing back. The water crushing my airways, my head pounding from the board hitting me, the cuff tugging at my ankle.
"Thalia."
His voice is distant. My breathing is harsh against my ears as it comes harder and harder to breathe. More rushed. My skin feels like it's on fire and my heart pounds. Nausea rolls in and it feels like my surroundings have zoned out. I can't tell what my body is doing.
"I'm gonna push you back to shore."
I can't tell if I nod. It feels like forever, and it probably is only a few seconds since I don't remember going out so far. I numbly feel an arm wrap around me, my body pressing against something.
"Thalia. I need you to take deep breaths. Hey, look at me."
Atlas's clear blue eyes come into view, worry flickering through them, and his hands are on my cheeks. Taking one hand off my face, he squeezes my hand. "Feel that?" I nod. "Tell me what it feels like."
"Wet, but warm."
His lips twitch. "What do you hear?"
"Ringing," I croak out, and he shakes his head, not the answer he was looking for. "Your voice. Birds."
"What do you see?"
"Your eyes," I state before flickering them around, realizing I am back on the sand that I don't remember getting back to. "Sand."
"Smell?"
"Sea water."
"Good. That's good. Take deep breaths with me," he says, and I copy his movements as I watch him. He takes deep breaths, which I follow his lead with. I take deep breaths with Atlas and my heart rate falls. I feel like I'm covered in sweat from the rise in body temperature. My body sags, the tiredness taking over from what I have experienced many times before during my time in the rehabilitation centre.
I wrap my arms around my knees and rest my head on top of them. I feel Atlas move away from me, but as I turn my head to the side on my knees, I see him sit next to me instead. We sit in silence for who knows how long. He looks out at the ocean, his eyes occasionally looking at me to make sure I'm okay.
I pushed myself too far, something I shouldn't have done. It's excruciating to not be able to do what you love because your brain and body refuse to cooperate. It's frustrating to where you want to scream. I want to be back in that water, but now I know I'm a far cry away from being back where I was and I don't know if I'll ever get there again.
"Is this a bad time to tell you I told you so?" Atlas questions, and I can't help but laugh. I jump as his hand touch my face, and I realize why as he wipes away some tears. Sniffling, I wipe my eyes. "I guess so if I made you cry."
I chuckle again as he nudges my side. "I guess I just wanted to kind of prove to myself that I could. Which I can't."
"Want to talk about it?" Atlas hesitantly asks, and I bite my lip.
We sit in silence for a few more minutes, debating if I want to unload everything onto him. I know I don't have to. The offer is there if I want to.
"When I was in the rehabilitation center for my leg and concussion, they diagnosed me with ptsd. Most nights I wake up from nightmares of the accident. I get flashbacks of the parts I remember. I can't really go into the water without the panicked feeling taking over me, and that scares me. That I may never surf again," I admit. "It didn't just affect me physically. The only people that know are my agent, my parents and now you. I think some people suspect, but the media does not know."
"Is that why you're trying to push yourself?" He asks, and I nod my head.
"My therapist wants me to try baby steps. Small things. But she also said it's not going to just go away, but I'm not ready to accept that surfing won't be my life anymore." I sigh.
"Surfing will always be a part of your life, Thalia. Regardless of whether you do it professionally," Atlas tells me.
"It's frustrating to have to hear from media outlets if I'll come back, the impending decision from my agent and just in general not being able to surf. I'm a surfer who can't surf. How pathetic is that?" I scoff, shaking my head before pushing some hair behind my ear.
"I don't think it's pathetic. I think it's brave that you've been able to touch the water again after what you went through and power through what your mind is telling you," Atlas mumbles. "It's going to take time."
I sigh. "So, I've been told."
Atlas looks out at the ocean once more before he jumps to his feet, brushing the sand off him before picking up his board. He holds his hand out to me as if ready to pull me up.
"Where are we going?" I ask him, confused.
"You shared something personal to you. I think it's only fair you learn a little more about me," Atlas says, but I see the nervousness in his eyes. Placing my hand in his, he lifts me up.
✺✺✺
His van rumbles along the major stretch of road as he drives to wherever he's taking me. I've never seen Atlas so tense and monotone since I've known him, but the way he drives, his silence speaks volumes. I leave him to his thoughts as I look out of the window. He turns down streets, heading into a residential area a few towns over.
He slows down and pulls over to the side of a road before turning off the engine. He leans back in his seat and turns to look out of my window with a pained expression on his face.
"Where are we?"
I follow Atlas's gaze and see he is looking at a large house across from where we are. There are kids of all ages, either playing in the front or walking in and out of the place. Turning my head to the side to look at Atlas once more, he holds a distant look in his eyes as he looks at the house. I can see his Adam's apple prominently as he swallows.
"My last group home before June adopted me."
I'm left speechless at his admission. Swallowing harshly, I turn to look at the house again. While a big place, the number of kids seems overwhelming for the number of rooms it has.
"Why did you bring me here?" I ask him, confused and intrigued.
He leans back in his seat, turning to face forward instead. "It took me a long time to get over how I grew up. I was scared for a long time, like it wasn't real. I couldn't trust people and when I first started school in Sandy Cove, I'd flinch if a kid who wasn't Easton came near me."
"Why was that?" I ask, afraid of the answer he's going to give me.
"Let's just say the older kids could be mean, as were the kids you went to school with when they found out you were an orphan." he grimaces. "Even some of the older kids in the group home and the staff did nothing about it."
"We don't have to talk about it," I tell him, not wanting to push him to speak about something he clearly struggles with.
"I wanted to bring you here because it wasn't an easy road for me to get over. It took time, and it wasn't fun. I wished every day that I wasn't like that and that the feeling would go away. That I could be normal."
"That's why you want to help me?" I ask him and he shrugs.
"I think that's part of why I've always wanted to help people," he admits, and I smile. "That and I'm in a better place now. I want everyone to get to that stage."
"What about now? How do you feel?"
"There are good and bad days. More good days, but it's something you have to live with," he says.
"You should have become a therapist," I tell him, and he chuckles, shaking his head.
"So, you could not listen to me more?" He jokes and I chuckle. "Too serious of a job for me."
"Heaven forbid."
"Smartass," he says, poking me in the arm.
I turn to look out of the window once more at the house. "When was the last time you came back here?"
"Not for a really long time," he says with a haunted look in his eyes, and I smile sadly before reaching out to interlace my hand with his before squeezing. He looks down before looking at me.
"Thanks for bringing me," I say. "Glad I'm not the only one bearing their emotional baggage today."
"We should have taken shots before this."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
A U T H O R N O T E
How did you feel about this chapter? Thalia's journey is a tough one and one I hope is super reflective and realistic. Panic attacks from first POV are VERY hard to write. We also learn a little more about Atlas and I love how these two just bond together.
What chapter do you think Atlas will ask Thalia out?
• chapter 20
• chapter 17
• chapter 25
don't forget to vote & comment!