“Okay… since we both know that isn’t true can I ask a follow-up question?” We’ve driven for two whole minutes before he’s parked again, at the café down the street.
He knows what’s happening. And it’s probably for the best. So, I wait for that three-letter word, the one I hate so much, to leave his mouth:WHY.
The problem is, I don’t know why. I don’t know why thinking about a dress I don’t own would send me spiraling. Just that it did.
“How can I help?” he says, and I’m taken aback by the question.
Noel has been my “help” for so long that it takes me a minute to think, to remember that I have other tools. I go back to all the things I learned years before I got Noel. I had coping mechanisms pre-Noel.
“A coffee?” he prods when I don’t answer.
“No caffeine.” I shake my head. Oof, that would only make it worse. The first thing that comes to mind is the 5-4-3-2-1 method I learned back in ninth grade with the school counselor. It always seemed to help. “Quiet. I need some place quiet.”
“Quiet. Okay.” Elliot switches off the radio. “Sit back,close your eyes. I’ll find a place.” He’s on his phone, quietly texting for a few minutes, and then we are moving again.
I shut my eyes and start where I can with my old counselor’s method. Since I can’t study five separate objects with my eyes closed, I move on to step four.
Four distinct sounds.
Elliot breathing.
Car engine purring.
Car honking.
Heart beating.
I breathe and I listen.
Once again, the car comes to a stop and Elliot kills the engine. I hear that too. I’m focused. I’m not ready to go to a symphony with my fake boyfriend’s entire family, but I am focused.
I hear Elliot’s car door open, then close. A gust of cool air assaults me when he opens my door too. My eyes pop open and erratic breathing fills my ears once more.
Elliot doesn’t explain but holds out a hand to me, and like an anxious lamb to the slaughter, I set my hand in his. He helps me to my feet and walks me forward, not tugging but matching my pace.
I peer up at the tall building, a dome roof at the center of the structure. This looks like a verypublicplace, and I’d rather stay in the car than face dozens of strangers. I drop my eyes to the door in front of us only to read—closed.
Still, Elliot types in a passcode for the door and opens the thing right up. It’s dim inside, but with Elliot’s hand in mine, he leads me into the room.
“I think there are benches in the theater.”
I peer up, seeing spheres in the low light above our heads. “Is that—is that the solar system?”
“Uh, probably.”
My irregular breathing is momentarily distracted. Elliot leads me through a set of double doors, not another human soul to be seen. The room is black as night.
“Elliot?” I squeak. I’m not sure this is helping. It doesn’t matter that I trust Elliot, I’m still imagining all of the ways a stranger could kill us in this dark room.
“I know. Sorry. Give me one sec.” He briefly lets me go, and in seconds the ceiling above us comes to life as if it were the night sky. It’s domed and shines with a million stars above us.
My breathing stops altogether for a moment.
“Where are we?” I say, my hand on my beating chest.
“It’s a small planetarium. One of my former teacher friends runs it. I called in a favor. He gave us access for the day.”
I blink. “We’re the only people here?”