By the time I reach the patio, my chest is so tight, that I can hardly pull in a lungful of air. I feel like I can’t breathe, like I’m going to pass out, and my heart is beating so fast, I can feel it pulsing in my throat.
Fuck.
I know exactly what this is. It’s a panic attack–one of several dozen I’ve had in the last few months. But regardless of how often it happens, each time is just as scary as the last. It never gets easier or less terrifying.
I feel a hand on my arm. “Lux, are you okay?”
Roman. Of course.
I shake my head and struggle to take in big gulps of air. It’s not working.
“Breathe, Little Rabbit. In slowly, then out.”
His voice is oddly soothing, but the fact that he thinkshe can talk me out of the panic attack thathecreated is infuriating. I swallow and jerk my arm out of his grip. “I’m fine. Just leave me alone.”
It takes everything in me to get those two sentences out, but I manage it.
“I’m not leaving you alone when you’re obviously having a panic attack,” he says.
Everyone is still staring at us–even more so now–and that just adds to my anxiety. I need to get out of here. Somewhere safe, quiet. I have a class in a few minutes, but I’m not sure I’ll make it. I have no choice, though. I’m here on a scholarship, which means I can’t afford to be bumped from any of my classes—and the first week is crucial. Each class is only allowed a certain number of students, and if I’m not there to claim my seat, it’ll be taken by someone else.
I force my spine to straighten, and I suck in a deep, strengthening breath. My heart still feels like a jackrabbit thumping against my ribs, but I do my best to ignore it.
“My next class starts in a few minutes. I have to go.” And with that, I turn toward the social science building without waiting for Roman to respond.
Damn.Day two and I’ve already been nearly assaulted, claimed by the campus king, and had a panic attack. I’m starting to think this school has too much drama for me.
But it’s the only school that offered me a full ride, so I guess I’m stuck here.
I book it to the social sciences building and find a seat in my next class. Once I’m settled in the corner, away from everyone else, my heart rate starts going back to normal. Thank God.
I pull my phone out to text Bree.
Just had a full-on panic attack in front of everyone at the cafe.
She texts me back immediately.
You ok?
I type out my response.
Yeah, better now. We were invited to a sorority party tonight. Come with me?
Considering my anxiety level, I probably shouldn’t be going to a party tonight, but I know it’ll cheer Bree up. Besides, with a couple of drinks in my system, I’ll be fine.
My phone pings. It’s Bree.
Sure. Sounds good. I have to meet someone after class, but I’ll text you later.
I shove my phone into my backpack and try to focus on the professor, who is introducing himself, and for the rest of class, I’m just kind of there. Present, but not really paying attention. All I can think about is Roman. Why am I so transfixed by him? He’s such an asshole,and not only that, he’s surrounded byotherassholes. I don’t need that in my life.
The queen of bad decisions. That’s me. I should have told Roman to fuck-off last night. Well, I guess I did, but I didn’t follow it up with the vitriol he deserves—and that’s on me.
At some point, Skye texts me with the information for the party, and I forward it to Bree. One of my classes runs kinda late, so rather than have her wait on me, I suggest meeting her at the party.
It’s dark when my last class lets out. About thirty of us pour out of the social sciences building, dispersing in multiple directions.
“Fancy meeting you here.”