DOUBLE UPDATE!! Make sure to read both chapters!
Why am I so generous you ask? I wanted to get chapter 60 out today, you will see why later. Also, I still feel horrible for leaving you guys hanging for two months so thank my guilty mind.
Also, I'm dedicating this chapter to knightsrachel because the book mentioned below was one of hers. Can you guess which one?
We are about to delve into the revelation of a secret you've all been waiting for.
Happy reading!
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A trigger is the connection between the conscious mind and a buried painful memory.
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I need to see you
A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. Before it had the chance to fully unfold, my phone buzzed again in my hands and another message popped up, then another and another until it was a stream of text messages.
Like right now
I miss you like crazy
I'm going insane
Please tell me you're free after school
I'll pick you up and buy you dinner
All you have to say is yes
Please?
Pretty please?
With a full on goofy grin etched into my features my thumbs danced over the keys.
I miss you too but I can't after school
Unfortunately, due to Mr. Sullivan and Ms. Quinn my day wouldn't end before six pm. Weeks ago our literature teacher had had the great afflatus to cover Shakespear in addition to our individual partner projects. Four days ago we partnered up with the drama class. To, guess what? Perform the most romantically cheesy and well-known play of all time.
Romeo and Juliet.
Oh dear God, kill me already.
Today was the first rehearsal. Mercifully, for all those good souls that couldn't act for the life of them the teachers-God bless their souls-gave them a different option. Lots of backstage work, including painting the scenery.
All of us aforementioned untalented souls hence were currently situated in the art room, painting props. Yours truly was occupied with changing a sword from wood to metal as I sneaked a glance at my phone that had buzzed the first time in over two hours. Determined to finish the section I was working on, I dipped my brush into the silver paint again and ignored my phone for the brief moment that I was running the brush over the wood over and over again until it was covered thoroughly in silvery gray.
Please I need to see you I'm going crazy
I sighed and wiped my hands on a rug before typing back.
I'm stuck in school till late
I'd seen my boyfriend two days ago when I was over at his house for the extended dinner invitation. Shauna apologized profusely and made sure to tell me how much she regretted acting so impulsively. Of course, I forgave her, even though there wasn't much to forgive. She'd just been worried for her son's life and had gone into protector mode.
Maybe what I felt at the moment was completely wrong, but the truth was that however much I liked Sam I didn't miss him. I needed some space to breathe. I needed time alone. I couldn't remember the last time I'd picked up a book. I was in need of time for myself to relax because the last weeks, months even, had been so stressfully eventful that I was at my limit.
Perhaps I was a horrible girlfriend for actually feeling this way, but I couldn't help it. I wouldn't say that Sam was particularly clingy, but on days like these I was excessively thankful that we weren't attending the same school.
In the end, I decided to get over myself and told him to pick me up in an hour. He seemed ecstatic. Whereas my excitement was limited. I felt so damn bad for not wanting to see him I couldn't not agree to meet with him.
"Hey, there." I turned to my left when my brain registered his voice. Green eyes met my own for a swift moment before they were focused on the object in his hands. I exhaled inaudibly after greeting him back. Since when had things become so awkward between us? 'After last Sunday' would be the potentially right answer. But that'd happened after he distanced himself from me. The aloofness on his part was worrying me. It wasn't like him to shy away from conversations. The Ryan Alexander Johnson I knew was bold and daring, reckless and straightforward. He wouldn't hold back or dance around a topic.
Lately, I got the feeling that he wanted to speak his mind, but at the last minute he always bit his tongue. It almost seemed like he was scared of something. Hell, if I could figure out what it was that got him acting completely out of character I'd try to fight it with him.
Sadly, he was fully closed off these days. I couldn't get through to him. It was legit like talking to a wall.
However, I wouldn't stop trying.
"How are you doing over there?" I poked his arm with the point of the still wet sword and left a streak of glittery gray on his skin. Oops. Sorry not sorry.
Feeling the wetness on his bicep he zeroed in on the stain I left on his bare upper arm. Then his eyes were on me. "Careful there, little one."
"What?" I asked innocently. "This was totally an accident."
"Mhm, believe me you don't want to start a war you can't win, sweetheart."
I only shrugged. He gave me one last warning look then turned back to his paint. My lips curled upwards. With his back to me I took the opportunity and gently dragged the blade across his neck. I retreated quickly. He swiveled around a second later with a murderous gaze. A playful twinkle in his eyes that made my heart beat faster.
"Oh, you're on."
I couldn't so much as blink before he reached for his brush and painted a line of baby blue down my complete arm.
I gasped.
"Ryan!"
"Hey, don't give me that look. You started it."
Abandoning the sword, I dove for my own paint brush, dipping it in silver and attacking the side of his neck.
That's how our paint fight started. Surprisingly, the others in the room weren't all that interested in our fun, instead everyone was conversing with their friends while attempting to also get some work done.
Our multicolored battle ended with us laughing and beaming at one another, completely covered in cold paint. We were a colorful mess of blue and gray. Our arms, necks, faces, our clothes, even my hair wasn't spared the colorful torture.
"Gray looks good on you," I joked, smiling so wide my cheeks hurt.
"Blue is definitely your color, Peanut." He smiled just as big.
My heart warmed at the action and I felt my smile soften. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen him this delighted. I was doubtful such a time had even existed.
He reached out and brushed his thumb over my cheek, swiping at a streak of blue he had inflicted upon my poor face not long ago. The act brought us closer together. A little too close for my liking. My heart was beating hard against my chest as I swallowed.
His movement slowed before it ceased completely. His gaze traveled from my stained cheek to my forehead before it settled on my eyes. The green was so conflicted for a moment it was all I could focus on. Complicated shades of light and dark, beautiful jade mixed with mysterious forest green. And for the first time I noticed the tiniest flecks of amber adorning his irises.
I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed it before. His eyes were absolutely stunning. The color sifted through the vocabulary save in my brain to find the right word to describe it. It came up empty handed.
My chest warmed at the sight alone. Something that worried me immensely.
As though he'd just heard my thoughts his hand retreated from my face and fell back to his side.
Right before my eyes I noticed his wall slamming down again. His smile fell, dissolving into a straight line. The gentleness of his features was gone so quickly I wondered if I'd only imagined it all along, hardening into a mask of steel. The crinkle of his eyes flattened too, but something in the green didn't retreat like the rest of him had. There was something in the swirling, beautiful mess of jade and amber, of cold and warmth, holding on to his feelings. A fight between indifference and longing.
The sight hit me like a punch to the chest.
I realized I felt just as much longing as he did. I yearned to see that unfathomable joy in him, to witness every single laugh and smile he emitted.
Life had the tendency to ruin things when everything was starting to look brighter. For Alex this was one of said moments. Looking at him now, I realized just how old he really seemed. His pink lips always curved downwards rather than up, most of the time dark spots were adorning the place under his eyes and his jaws were clenched more often than not. Regarding him closely, there seemed to simmer a bone-deep tiredness within him.
Life wasn't sympathetic towards anyone, but I doubted I'd ever seen Alex genuinely carefree before.
His childhood had been everything but easy and I would be a fool to think that it wasn't still affecting him to this day. The burden of his early years was still dragging him down, but he wouldn't let himself drown. He always fought his way back to the surface, taking lung-fulls of air before the heavy weight would pull him under once more.
I'd thought it before and I was thinking it again: Ryan Alexander Johnson was the strongest person I knew.
He gifted me with one last intense look then turned away, body rigid.
I heaved a deep breath and sat down on my stool, situated next to his own. We each went back to work on the props.
Whenever I caught sight of my arm covered in blue, something tugged at my heart. I noticed too late whenever the corners of my lips wanted up. When I caught on to the fact of my facial expression I forced myself to focus.
I was just about ready painting the sword handle gold when suddenly and out of nowhere a pair of hands gripped my shoulders.
Scared, I lost my grip on the brush.
Immediately and without my consent my heart went from 80 beats per minute to 150 in an irregular rhythm. Something was building inside me, climbing higher and higher. My chest was so tight it felt like someone had wrapped a rope around my torso and pulled until all my organs were one perfectly knotted pretzel.
My hand went to my face, my eyes fluttering closed without my permission.
Something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.
A similar memory creeped into my mind, one far far worse, but at the same time just as bad.
Opening my eyes, I willed it to go away.
The entire room was spinning.
Spinning, spinning out of control.
"Do. Not. Ever. Do. That. Again," I got out, struggling to breathe properly.
I briefly noticed that the culprit was nobody else but Jensen as he pulled his hands away. I didn't wait to see his reaction, only aware of the unknown feeling rising inside me. The need to get out.
My breath got caught in my throat.
Air!
I was in need of air.
"I need some air," I heard myself distinctly mumble as I stormed to the door and out into the hallway.
The lack of people was an improvement, however it was one I couldn't appreciate at the moment.
What is happening?
My heart was beating so hard it actually hurt.
The rope around my torso was pulled tighter and tighter. It squeezed my organs together until my lungs deflated to make room for my heart, swelling and thumping inside my rib cage.
Where had the air gone?
Because there was none left.
I gasped for oxygen.
I gulped in as much air as I could get.
Only this seemed to make everything worse.
My ears popped.
My throat was like sandpaper.
Nausea made an appearance.
Was I dying?
Distinctly I remembered something. There was a book. I'd read about these symptoms somewhere.
No, I was not dying.
I was having a panic attack.
The realization made things a little clearer for me.
Okay, Liz, calm down and think. What can you do to make it stop? Remember!
At this point everything inside me, my body, my conscious, my soul was screaming at me to make it stop.
Please, make this torture stop!
I grasped for the memory of the book and put my hands against the wall.
It's not your body, it's your mind you can control it!
My lungs were begging for air. Everytime I gulped down a lungful of oxygen it seemed to disappear again. Like their was a leak somewhere.
The more oxygen I tried to fill my body with the faster everything started to spin.
The invisible hand around my throat squeezed tighter until I was starting to see black dots dancing on the blank wall.
My feet were threatening to give out.
Far away I heard the ringing of the bell.
I only realized what this meant when all of a sudden Sophie was by my side.
Oh no!
"Oh my God, Liz! Are you okay?"
The freaked out look on her face wasn't very reassuring.
I felt like puking.
My thoughts were racing inside my head. They were going so fast I couldn't catch any words.
Courtney appeared next to her, her features twisted in concern. "What's wrong? What happened?"
"Do you have asthma?"
So many questions.
And I couldn't get my vocal chords to answer a single one of them.
I shook my head and forced myself to form words, but the words were still swimming around. They were twisting and revolving in my brain like a carrousel ride. I reached out a hand and caught a fistful of jumbled words. "Y-No,... I don't think...every-everything...is okay," I gasped, between taking hungry breaths, trying to reassure them.
Their faces were blurry when I looked at them. My gaze slipped to the side, taking in my surroundings. Blurry, moving colors of green and blue and yellow. I realized those were people. Some were walking by disinterested, others were witnessing the whole ordeal.
"You sure? Should I-Should I look for a teacher?" It was Sophie who asked this.
I shook my head, it was easier than getting my throat to work.
I barely noticed the strong hand on my arm, I had to focus on trying not to die.
Calm down! You have the control! You can make it stop!
Did I really? Was I really able to make it stop, because I didn't know how.
I felt like puking and dying, craved air and water, was disoriented and on the brink of insanity.
Too much. This was just too much.
Someone please save me from my own body!
At this point I could barely make out the words all the voices around me were saying. There was one in particular that filtered through: okay.
It took me a moment to realize they were asking if I was okay.
I opened my eyes again not recalling when they closed.
"Bee, I'm here. Are you okay?"
Relief flooded my body. He was here, he was strong, surely he could help me.
But first I needed out.
I grabbed his hand and stumbled through the crowd that had gathered around. I couldn't care at the moment even though somewhere in the back of my mind the fact was registered and noted, a small flicker of shame igniting in my insane body.
I couldn't help but notice how warm his hand was and how cold my own was in comparison. Not just cold, freezing.
Alex led me to a vacant classroom and I forced myself to swallow. I grimaced. My poor throat hurt so much somebody could have punched me there just as well.
He sat me down on the teacher's desk, standing in between my legs and watching me trying to regain my breathing.
He reached out and pulled me against him. Fingers stroking my hair, my cheek against his heart.
I wasn't sure how, but his touch forced me to focus.
Focus on my breathing.
It was a distraction from my messy thoughts that were slowly turning devastatingly dark.
Instead of focusing on all the aches and alarm signals in my body I focused on my breathing. I had no idea how long it took but finally my heartbeat, my breathing, everything was regular again. I was in control.
My throat might still hurt, I might still feel sick and cold, but the worst was over. Or was it?
There was something. A wrongness deep in me that was slowly spreading.
I didn't just feel cold on the outside.
It felt like this panic attack had just pulled something out of me.
There was something substantial missing, something crucial which I couldn't put my finger on.
Slowly, Alex pulled away. I put my arms around myself, hiding my shaking hands.
"Bee, did the asshole scare you this bad?" He was still touching me, my hair, my shoulders, my spine.
I couldn't look at him. I did a combination of a nod and a shake of my head and chuckled humorlessly. My brain felt like mush. Nothing made sense.
"Maybe you should drink something. Wait here. I'll be right back."
Foolishly, I almost begged him to stay. I didn't want to be alone, but I let him go.
The moment he slipped outside, my head dropped into my hands.There was a lingering exhaustion in me I hadn't felt before. At the moment I highly doubted this type of fatigue was ever leaving me again.
I sighed.
What the fuck was that?
I'd never had a panic attack before, not once.
Now that I could think clearly again everything I'd read about panic attacks before was coming back to mind. People often mistook such as a heart attack, now I could fully understand their way of thinking.
It hadn't felt like I was imagining having a heart attack felt though. It felt wrong. Not knowing exactly what was going on made everything worse, because it forces you to freak out even more. The unknown was a very scary thing.
Talking about unknown, what was the trigger? Obviously, Jensen startling me.
It wasn't because he scared me but he scared me. The moment he was standing behind me, his hands suddenly on me I was thrown back into that one horrible memory. The most terrible experience in my whole life.
And now that this happened I couldn't stop thinking about it. My mind was focused on one thing only and I couldn't distract or steer it towards another memory.
My hands weaved their way through my hair, fingertips scraping against my skull, grip tight. Sadly, I couldn't scare the memories off by force.
A minute later Alex was back with a bottle of water. "Here. Maybe it will help."
I accepted the bottle. My hands were shaking so bad I had to muster up a lot of concentration not to spill it on me while drinking.
The cold water soothed my parched throat but it also got me shivering. As I stared down at my shaking legs, my knees knocking together, I remembered how bad shock had had me quivering that one fateful night. It was so bad I literally couldn't stand, I needed something I could hold onto for support so I could attempt to stay upright.
Alex was at my side again, his hands running over my arms and back, my hair, every touch a feeble attempt to soothe my shaken mind.
I sighed. I knew he'd lot of questions and I also knew I couldn't make up an excuse for this and just for once in my life I had the feeling that talking about it was right in a way. Letting him know, trusting him fully, it was a decision not I made but the universe had a long time ago. My brain was mush, I was unable to make any reasonable decisions from here on out.
"I know you're beyond worried right now-"
For once I didn't need an answer to this question it was all over his face, was living in his gestures.
"You can say that again," he said, voice low and soft, soothing like warm honey.
"I know you deserve an explanation."
A few seconds in silence.
"You don't have to tell me," he said in that voice.
"Yes, I have to." I tried to lift the corners of my lips. "Telling you this... it's just..." I paused grasping for the right word. "Hard." I wet my lips. "It's really hard."
"Are you sure?" He asked this in such a voice that didn't leave me with the option whether to look at him or not. His face was hard once again, but there was an underlying vulnerability there and something else.
Fear.
I realized then that he was scared for me, for what I was about to tell him.
"Yes." My voice resembling the look on his face.
"Alright." Then he stepped back and pulled his hoodie over his head. He handed it to me, silent. The gesture touched a tiny piece of my freezing heart.
Thanking him, I put it on and, immediately, I was engulfed in his scent. I wish I could have said it restored that part in me that was missing, but it didn't. Instead, it was just soft, warm fabric with a familiar smell to it that managed to reassure me somehow. But it couldn't soothe the utter cold I felt inside, my shaking limbs didn't cease the movements.
"Take your time." He leaned against the nearest pupil's desk. "I can wait, that's no problem."
Pressing my lips together, I looked at him one more time before I opened my mouth and spoke.