Riley
I split off from everyone else, telling Victoria that I was going to look at the books. I really just wanted to think.
I hadn't had to not think about what I was going to buy Jeremiah for Christmas since eighth grade, when we weren't dating. It was an odd feeling, and it wasn't exactly welcome.
My chest ached. I missed him. I tried to convince myself that it was okay that I missed him. We had dated for nearly two years, after all. But even so, I just felt shitty. He was constantly leaving me daisies and notes, saying "I miss you" and "Please forgive me, I can't stop loving you". He made it impossible to forget him.
I scanned the shelves mindlessly. A few people shoved past me to get to the CDs and electronics, but hardly anyone was loitering like I was, observing the covers of books and trying to see if any of them would catch my eye and interest me. There were none.
I sighed and settled for a book with a white cover, flowers sketched on the it and the title in such dainty cursive that I couldn't read it. The only thing that the back-of-the-book synopsis told me was:
Everything has thorns; roses, the crown that Christ wore during his final days, relationships... 'The thorns are bittersweet', they told me. But my fingers are pricked and bleeding, and my blood is bitter and sad. There is nothing sweet about this.
My phone buzzed in my pocket; a text. At first, all I saw was Jeremiah's name. But then his picture was popping up and my phone was singing his favorite song.
My finger hovered over the green button that would link my voice to his. I was debating whether or not to answer his third call when Victoria ran up to me, hands waving frantically to get my attention.
Her face was pale and her eyes were wide. "Robin's having a panic attack," she panted. "We don't know what to do."
My heart beat a bit faster at her words, but I tucked my phone into my back pocket and clutched the book in one hand. I sprinted behind Victoria on shaky legs.
Robin was crouched on the scuffed tiles when we got to him. He was against a wall outside of the restrooms, breathing labored and cheeks flushed. There were tears drying on his cheeks. His hands were shaking, and although he had them clasped tightly together, it was still quite obvious.
I crouched down in front of him, making sure that I didn't get too close. I remembered the moments when Skylar had panic attacks, at home and in public. They were often; he was constantly stressed and worrying about things that he didn't really need to worry about.
"Robin," I addressed softly.
His eyes looked to me, but they were unfocused and anxious. His breathing didn't slow.
"Shh," I hushed, "just calm down." My hands twitched to comfort him, but I knew better than to do that. "You're okay," I murmured. "Just breathe, Robin. Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth."
He managed to comply to my request, breathing in through his nose, out through his mouth.
It took a few minutes for his breathing to even out and his body to relax, but eventually, he was fine.
"You're okay," I said reassuringly.
"Too many people," he mumbled, embarrassed.
"C'mon," I urged. We stood up. "Let's get out of here." We headed toward the exit. I was glad to be leaving. "You're okay," I repeated softly, but I didn't know whether I was trying to convince him or myself.
Robin nodded and looked at me like I was suddenly the one who needed comforting, not him. "We're okay."