Hey guys,
you don't believe this is real and I'm truly updating? Well, I can't either. But here it is.
Enjoy.
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Innocence is thought charming because it offers delightful possibilities for exploitation. ~Mason Cooley
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The resuming days in school were pure exhaustion. Ever since that afternoon where I'd endured my very first panic attack I'd been experiencing them frequently. It was like a dam had broken and everything needed out.
Sometimes it was one attack, sometimes it was three. Sometimes it was minor, sometimes it was all-consuming.
Slowly, a pattern was detectable.
It would start with my body becoming restless. The wringing of my hands and the bouncing of my feet, the playing of my fingers with the rubber band on my wrist.
Next was the lack of oxygen in my lungs and the furious beating of my heart.
Then it was everything all at once. And more. So much more.
As strangely as this sounded-especially because I wasn't sure this was something you could improve your efficiency in-I got better at it.
I wasn't able to say that it was now me that controlled my panic attacks, they still controlled me. But I knew what was to come and I was aware that there was nothing wrong with my body function. That it was all my head. And that I was indeed able to live through it. Once the unknown of the whole ordeal was revealed, a minimal amount of panic fell away. I did not fear for my life in the utmost sense anymore.
The triggers of said attacks were things my brain couldn't entirely fathom. Once, I only sat in a classroom and the air left me like the walls were moving in on my lungs and crashing them into my rib cage until they were shriveled and punctured, leaking oxygen into the outside world.
Another time I remembered clearly was when a teacher called me out in class.
I'd talked to Dr. Goodman last Saturday and reported everything back to her about the events which occured the week prior. Her reaction was an emotion undefinable. A cross between shock and surprise. She listened silently, stunned, as I relayed the information of the trigger, but when I came to the point of experiencing the panic attack I was lost for words. I tried to explain the roller coaster ride my emotions went through, but found I couldn't exactly recall the way I'd felt in the moment. At least I couldn't properly put them into words a human being would understand. So, all I gave her was a vague description.
As I filled her in about Ryan and about telling him about my past she reassured me that it was okay for me to choose the people I want to share it with and that I did not have to tell everyone.
I hadn't spoken about this new development to my parents till Saturday. Deep inside telling them, I knew, was right, that keeping this from them was impossible. When I brought this up during our therapy session Dr. Goodman encouraged me in my decision.
So, that day still, I mustered up the courage to mention it to dad. I clumsily attempted to explain that the reason why I'd been feeling so tired and exhausted to the extent of not being able to do anything else but lying around was due to panic attacks. It was easier albeit not easy at all to express my feelings to dad. Whenever I did this with mom she got so emotional that it made me feel guilty. Guilty for making her worried, for being like this, for telling her.
Dad didn't know how to react. His reply consisted of one word: okay.
I didn't think he was aware of what meaning a panic attack held. How somebody going through one felt. How much it took out of a person. How utterly exhausted it left one.
I didn't dare let anyone of my friends know about this new development regarding my mental health safe for Ryan, of course, since he'd witnessed the whole ordeal first-handedly.
My boyfriend was out of the question as well.
Things with Sam had settled down again the day after our first official fight. Head hung low, he apologized over and over again, admitting that he'd exaggerated. Either his repetitive apologies or the guilt of almost kissing Ryan had led me to the path of forgiveness. However, I had one condition, he needed to apologize to my childhood friend. At this he threw a tantrum, but I was adamant that he apologized for punching Ryan when all the latter did was try to comfort me.
So, I convinced Sam to come by our school today to get said task out of the way.
"Are you sure everything's okay?"
My head jerked upwards when I noticed Court was talking to me while we walked through the door leading to the changing rooms. "Huh?" I got lost in my thoughts too easily lately. Something was always on my mind whether it were the panic attacks, Ryan or my boyfriend, something was always tugging at my gray cells.
"Your arm, Liz," she reminded me. "It took most of the hit."
"Oh." For a clumsy person like me PE wasn't a class my skills were put to good use at. While running laps I stumbled over my own feet and ended up kissing the floor. After that we played some weird game and in order to stay in I needed to be on a mat when the buzzer sounded. So, I attempted a crawl over the vaulting box and fell right off and onto the stupid mat. My arm took most of the brunt of it.
I called PE survival class.
"Yeah, I'm okay."
I opened my locker while all the other girls around me started changing. I hated this part. Everything was loud with chatter and laughter, the air permeated by deodorants and sets of eyes hungrily looking for their next victim.
I waited.
I always did.
The perfumed air made it hard to breathe.
In. Out. In. Out.
My lungs constricted with every breath.
There were too many people in this small room.
Too many to breathe properly.
Whenever I attempted to fill my lungs with oxygen the concealed poison overwhelmed my system. It caused me to hold my breath until the toxic cloud passed by.
Slowly, girls were filing out of the locker room.
"You want me to wait?"
My head turned right to were Courtney was standing fully clothed and putting her hair in a ponytail. As my gaze roamed over her form I couldn't help but notice her perfect figure, those long legs, silky hair, narrow waist, round ass, full lips, ample breasts and her flat stomach. She was one of the most beautiful people I knew, inside and out. If she ever struggled with her appearance you wouldn't know. But, at some point, I believed she'd obsessed over some non-superficial flaws as well. I mean, everybody had something to complain about their exterior, at least, at one point in their life.
Not when you look like that, you don't, whispered a voice in my ear.
I forced my eyes to focus on the contents of my locker. "Uh, no, it's alright. I'm sure you're hungry and miss Nick."
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed her lips split into a huge smile at the mention of her boyfriend. I knew Nick would get that reaction out of her and force her mind to focus on her priority. I wasn't the priority.
"Alright, see you in a bit."
"Yeah," I answered quietly, but she was already gone.
I sighed. Not many girls left, I might as well start changing.
First, my pants so I could use the stretchy gym shirt to cover my behind and the top of my thighs. With my legs secured in my black jeans and torso slipped out of my gym shirt, I turned around to pick up my shirt off the bench where I'd just put my clean clothes, but it wasn't there.
And suddenly I was the only one left in the room wearing only my simple black bra. "Oh no," I mumbled to myself, dropping the sweaty shirt. Where did it go? It couldn't just vanish. My shirt couldn't just dissolve into thin air. So, I looked everywhere in the room for it. Under every bench, in the trash can, in my locker, in the shower rooms.
When I was in a shower stall I suddenly heard the door open and close. I straightened. Maybe it's the next class, I thought.
But it was lunch time.
"Hello?"
I stepped outside and rounded the second row of lockers to get to mine. Nothing. Nobody was here, my locker door was still hanging open and my PE shirt was still...
It was gone.
My PE shirt was gone now too.
"Shit!"
I had nothing to wear now. And everybody was gone. What was I supposed to do? Hide here until the end of school?
I felt like crying and, come to think of it, I felt like having a panic attack too.
My chest felt incredibly tight.
No, no, no panicking. Everything was alright. There needed to be a solution I just-
I made a run for my locker and rummaged through my bag. It had to be in here. I knew I put it there before class-
Jackpot!
My phone!
"Thank you God!"
I tried Court first. Nothing.
Next up was Logan. Also nothing.
Then it was Ryan.
"This must be my lucky day-"
I could hear the smile in his voice as relief washed over me. "Thank God. Ryan, I need your help."
"Okay. Are you in trouble?" I could hear his amusement. Well, I was glad that the situation was so funny to him, but I wasn't laughing.
"No, I need a shirt."
"A shirt? Where are you?"
"Look, I can't explain right now. I'm in the girl's changing rooms I just had PE and my shirt's gone. I don't know where it went or who took it and why, the only thing I know is that I need a shirt. Please, I need your help. Please."
The tears were coming now, I felt them at the back of my eyes and I was sure he could hear them.
"Bee." He was all serious now. "I'll be there in ten. Stay there."
"Are you kidding me?" This cliché phrase was pushing all my buttons. "Where would I go? I'm naked!"
"You're naked?"
"I'm not wearing a shirt, Ryan. Shirt! Just get me one please. Hurry!"
"Alright I'll be there soon. Try to stay calm."
I took a deep breath. "Thanks."
I dropped onto a bench when he hung up. Why in the world did these things keep happen to me? My head fell into my open palms. Shirts couldn't walk out of a room which meant that somebody stole them. The clean one when I was distracted with changing and my gym shirt when I was distracted looking for the first one.
But why would somebody take them away?
I only came up with one answer.
To put me in exactly this situation. Somebody wanted to hurt me, to humiliate me, make fun of me. But why?
I couldn't think of a good enough reason for anyone to do such a thing.
Admittedly, Thalia was the one person that came to mind. But she wasn't sharing this class with me. Courtney, Nathalie and a few other girls were out of the question for the obvious reason that I was friends with them. Most of these girls I had nothing to do with. Sure, I chat with them from time to time, but those were just superficial conversations. Nothing anybody could hate me for. At least, I hoped nobody was petty enough to humble me for something so very insignificant.
A few minutes later a knock on the door made me look up.
The door opened to a small gap. "Bee?" His deep voice sounded through the empty room. It was music to my ears.
Then I noticed that the only thing covering my torso was my black bra. Oh God. What now? I jumped up and turned around, my back facing the door.
"Eh, you can come in."
When I heard footsteps I only turned my head to get a good look at him.
He was as handsome as every day. Green eyes striking and big with surprise at the sight of me, muscled arms holding onto a fabric which I assumed was the shirt he brought for me, brown hair always dishevelled these days, posture straight, confident and alarmed.
For a moment, he was rooted to the spot, staring at my exposed skin, running his eyes over my shoulders and down my back. His gaze was filled with such an intense emotion it seemed like he was drinking the sight in. And what a sight I was. He was probably staring at my love handles.
I cleared my throat once his obsession with my back fat was making me uncomfortable. "Um, Ryan?"
He caught himself. "Er, right. Here." He took a step closer and handed me the shirt which wasn't exactly a shirt.
I held it in both hands in front of my face.
"It's um-" I felt something at my shoulder. It took me some time to realize that it was a fingertip. My body stilled. "It's my old jersey." His finger traveled.
From my shoulder to the top of my spine and down between my shoulder blades. Skipping my bra clasp, goosebumps erupted as it went to my ribs. Two fingers, three, then it was his whole hand. Then the second one.
I shuddered as his warmth tried to bring some light into me.
His hands roamed. One brushing my hair over my shoulders, the other one caressing down my arm.
For a minute, just a minute, I closed my eyes and stayed in the moment, bathed in the beautiful sensations his hands provided, enjoyed his warmth against my cold. Then the warmth was gone and I was pulled out of my trance. They left me feeling colder than before. Freezing.
I didn't hesitate and slipped my arms through his jersey followed by my head. It fell to almost my knees. Now, fully clothed I turned around.
His arms were crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall. He was so far away I worried that I'd just imagined his touch.
"Thank you."
He didn't look at me as he nodded. "Any time."
He pushed himself off the wall. "Although I hope nobody will steal your shirt again. Didn't know you had enemies."
"Yeah," I replied and crossed my arms over my chest. "Me neither."
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The rest of the school day was awkward. Parading around in Ryan's jersey caught more than just a few curious eyes. Luckily, I was able to ignore it for most of the time even though some people shot me funny looks and my friends acted out of the norm too. Everyone around me appeared to be on the verge of saying something, then decide against it. When nobody was courageous enough to bring up what was on their mind I attempted to ignore it. Of course, the whole thing still managed to freak me out and send me into a spiral of overthinking, but I decided to focus on Sam instead and the wonderful afternoon I'd soon spend with my hopefully remorseful boyfriend.
Successfully forgetting the jersey I was wearing, I couldn't be more excited when it was finally time to welcome Sam. Walking to the parking lot alongside my friends I was forced to suppress the spring in my step. It'd be a lie if I confirmed that Sam was my only source of happiness. Today had been a panic-attack-free-day so far and I was determined to keep it that way.
When my gaze fell on his form, leaning casually against the hood of his truck, hands stuffed into his jeans' pockets, a silly grin tugged at my lips. Ready to break out into a run and greet him, I was stopped as someone laid a hand on my arm. My eyes jerked away from my handsome boyfriend and latched onto Liam's. I looked at him questioningly, annoyed that my joy was put on hold.
"Before you go I should tell you something."
"Okay?" I said, now nervous.
His eyes trailed down my form. "You-"
"Hey, man," Ryan said, chuckling and slinging an arm over Liam's shoulders. "I'm sure it can wait long enough for her to greet her boyfriend."
A frown grazed Liam's face as he stared at my childhood friend. "But I was about to tell her-"
"That she should go kiss her boyfriend hello? What a great idea."
I'd watched their interaction with furrowed brows. Was it just me or were they acting weird yet again? And that smug twitch of Ryan's lips caused my stomach to flip suspiciously.
Or the mention of a kiss might have been the cause of my nervous reaction. Yet another thing my mind couldn't stop replaying.
"Alright. I'll be right back." Trying to shake the sudden nervousness, I approached my boyfriend. He smiled when he saw me. Then his eyes wandered down, much like Liam's had, and his laughter lines turned upside down.
Hopefully, I was reading too much into his facial expression.
"Hey," I greeted him with a smile, expecting him to swoop down and kiss my cheek like he always did. Instead, his body didn't move, feet rooted in place.
"What the fuck are you wearing?"
I frowned at his cold calmness and looked down at myself. My eyes widened as I beheld Alex' old jersey that was covering my torso and peeking out below my jacket. Oh no, not him too. Why was everybody acting so weird because of this?
He stared angrily at the number printed on the front. "It's his, isn't it? It's Johnsons?" He lifted his gaze, not to look at me but to glare at something or rather someone behind me. I just knew that it was Alex whom he was regarding with rage over my shoulder.
"Yes, it's his."
His eyes snapped to mine. "Take it off," he demanded in a growl.
A frown tugged at my features. His drastic reaction left me confused and uncomfortable. "No. Sam, can we please go? It's just a jersey." And I wasn't wearing anything underneath safe for my bra.
"It's not just a jersey, Liz!"
I sighed. And after one moment's careful consideration I realized something very important. Jerseys were a way for football players to show off their girlfriends and the claim they had on them. So, by giving me his jersey Alex marked me as his'.
Now everything made sense. The way Alex had interrupted Liam from saying anything, probably attempting to warn me of this exact situation. His smug smirk.
Suddenly, I felt my own irritation spark.
"Come on, Liz, take that thing off! Why the fuck are you even wearing that?"
"It's a long story, Sam. I'll tell you in the car," I said in a calm voice, tired.
"I'll go nowhere with you if you don't get rid of that," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
He was impossible right now and I couldn't muster up enough patience to deal with his emotions. "Sam, it's not gonna happen, because-" I was just about to tell him that I was basically nude underneath when he scoffed.
"Oh my God. I was right, wasn't I?"
I frowned, not knowing where he was going with this. "What are you talking about?"
"You and him have something going on." He snorted. I stared at him. Not this again. If I remember correctly he was here to apologize to Ryan for exactly this accusation and had been trying to make up for our past fight and now he was reopening this argument once again? "How long has this been going on-"
"Stop it, Sam! I've told you before and I'm telling you again, there's nothing between me and Ryan."
My outcry of reason did not seem to register in his mind. He replied without hesitation. "So, what exactly is he to you?"
"A friend," I pointed out the obvious.
He snorted. "Friend my ass."
I felt so very exhausted by all of the shit that had been going on today. I was so tired of defending myself, of taking shit that I didn't deserve. Maybe I wasn't a good person, but someone please explain to me why these things keep happening to me? "You know what, Sam? Learn to trust me and then we'll spend time together."
I turned around and walked away, leaving a fuming Sam behind. A second later, I heard a car door slam and an engine roar.
I shook my head at the heavy feeling in my heart. No, I would not let myself feel guilty.
My friends were still standing in the same spot as before and Alex still had that smug grin on his face as he watched Sam pull away and drive off.
"Don't think I'm stupid and don't know what you did." I pointed angrily at his chest.
"What?" He had the decency to look freaked out at my outburst.
"You did this on purpose. You used me for whatever selfish reason! You knew how Sam would react. You didn't help me, because we are friends you helped me because you wanted to use me. Oh, look at that, Liz needs something to wear let's lend her my jersey to mark my territory and make her boyfriend explode with jealousy. I don't know what kind of nonsense you two have against each other, but do not involve me in this another time, Ryan!"
For a moment he was stunned into silence. "Bee-"
"I really want to be your friend, but sometimes you make this too hard to want."
"Bee."
The look in his eyes tugged at my heart. It was so very heartbroken. I knew that I really hurt him with my words, but I was so angry that I couldn't muster up enough guilt to apologize.
I forced myself to turn around and walk away.
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Hey guys
You have no idea how truly sorry I am for drastically changing my upload schedule from every few weeks to once a month and I'm trying to change that. But I was lying sick in bed the week prior and before that, I had lots of rehearsals for a school's concert which I couldn't even attend because of my sudden illness. And now I find myself to be in some kind of a writing slump.
Life is a bit much at the moment and my time at home really helped since I had the week off, but alas school is starting again on Monday and I'm dreading the day already.
I hope you enjoyed reading this
Please comment/vote?
Hugs and kisses
Kathy