Page 60 of It's Always Sonny

I’m crying so badly, I can’t see anything through the blur of tears when my friends come in the door. The bathroom is too small for all of us, but that doesn’t stop them from finding a place to sit, anyway. Ash gets into the bathtub. Lou hops up on the counter and crosses her legs. Jane drops down across from me, knee to knee, and Millie sits on the toilet seat.

And I cry.

And cry.

Jane pulls me into a hug, and I throw my arms around her. And then three other sets of arms wrap around me, and I’m not sure how it’s even physically possible until I feel Millie shove into me and hear a squeal.

“Ow!” Millie says as Lou falls on top of her.

“Watch the head!” Ash says, as Millie’s own head bumps into Ash’s.

Jane and I start laughing, and soon, the others join and we’re a giant mess of giggles and tears.

“Want to talk about what happened?” Millie asks. We’re all cramped on top of each other—well, they’re all on top of me, because I’m sitting with my back against the wall between the toilet and the bathtub.

“Not really.”

“Did you have a panic attack?” she pushes.

“No, actually,” I say. “Just a total breakdown.”

“That’s progress!” Millie says. “I’m so happy for you!”

I can’t believe Sonny is listening to this. What must he think?

“You know no one thinks less of you for fainting, right?” Ash says.

“I think less of me,” I say. “Who faints on a ropes course? It was so overdramatic. So attention seeking,” I say, disgusted with myself.

“Ugh, good point. You are so brazen.” Lou’s twangy voice drips in sarcasm.

“Don’t attention-shame her!” Ash says. “She found the perfect opportunity to have all eyes on her, and she took it spectacularly. Who can blame her?”

“If there’s anything PJ is known for,” Jane says, “It’s the spotlight. She just craves it.”

“Okay, I get it,” I say.

“Do you?” Sonny asks too seriously. He’s sitting against the wall just outside the bathroom. His whole left side is visible, and his braced, muscular leg bounces with a furious energy. He’s as close as he could be without being in the actual bathroom. “PJ, you passed out. Your body had a perfectly normal response to a stressful situation.”

“It’s not perfectly normal,” I say sharply. “It’s weak! Being afraid of heights is weak! I’m weak! And now your family knows—”

“And no one cares or thinks less of you for it!”

“Yes, they do! They’re all going to think I’m such a joke!” I curl my arms around my head, wishing I could shrink into the floor. “I can’t even handle something that a ten-year-old can do! I’m so stupid and pathetic and weak—”

“Stop it!” Jane snaps. “You are none of those things! Those are lies, and I won’t let anyone lie about my best friend!” Her voice is shaking. “You are smart and strong and brave.”

“I’m not brave. If I were brave, I wouldn’t have frozen.”

“Fight, flight, freeze, and fawn are all perfectly normal threat responses,” Millie insists.

“I should have fought.”

“What were you fighting against? Gravity?” Millie says. “One isn’t better than the other. It just is.”

“Fighting is better than freezing.”

“Are you talking about the ropes course or about something else?” Jane asks, and I’m glad my face is covered so no one can see how it contorts with regret and pain and humiliation.

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