Page 92 of Worth the Chase

“Was it the shoes?” Addi asked with a laugh.

“It’s always the shoes,” Brooklyn said before rubbing her stomach.

“Are you feeling okay?” I stared at her hands, and she dropped them.

“Oh, yeah. I’m good,” she responded before looking at the one remaining drink on the counter. “Coffee?”

“Coffee for us. Hot chocolate for you.” Addi handed her the cup.

Brooklyn made a face. “Ugh,” she groaned. “I mean, yay. Thanks.”

We all chuckled, and I figured that I might as well get this over with. Everyone in town was going to find out soon enough.

“Can we go sit?” I asked.

The two of them followed me into the living room and onto the massive sectional. I set my coffee on top of the table, and they both did the same before sitting down.

“I might live on this couch,” Brooklyn said. She grabbed a throw pillow and pressed it against her and groaned. “It’s so comfortable.”

She wasn’t wrong. It was a great couch.

I jumped right in to the story, and the two of them stared at me intently as I told them what had happened. Addi remembered the group of rowdy guys immediately, and once I finished, their eyes were filled with concern and disbelief. They were looks that I wasn’t used to seeing.

To be honest, it was a little uncomfortable, talking about all of this. Part of me felt like I’d handled the situation poorly. Like I’d done something wrong somehow. If it had happened to Addi,she probably would have kicked the guy square in the nuts and called it a day.

“First things first. Are you okay?” Addi asked as she folded her hands in her lap.

“Yeah. I feel a lot better today. Mostly, I think I’m just mad at myself,” I answered.

“Why would you be mad at yourself?” Brooklyn asked with sympathy in her voice.

I swallowed hard. “Because I didn’t fight back,” I offered, like anyone in their right mind would have either fought or run away. “And I didn’t run. I froze.”

They each sucked in a collective breath, as if my response made complete and total sense to them. It actually made me feel a little bit better.

Brooklyn raised her hand like we were in class, and I was the teacher.

“Yes?” I said as I pointed at her.

“Most people only think there are two responses in situations like that.” She straightened up on the couch and leaned forward. “Fight or flight. We’ve all heard of those.”

“Are there more?” Addi asked.

“I thought there were only two,” I added.

Brooklyn shook her head. “No. There’s actually four.” She held up four fingers before putting them down and raising one at a time. “There’s fight or flight. But there’s also freeze or fawn.”

“Freeze or fawn?” I repeated. “I’ve never heard of those.”

“Well, freeze is what you did, which is totally normal, by the way.”

I scoffed. “It doesn’t feel normal.”

“Hey,” Addi interrupted. “None of us knows how we’d react in a traumatic situation until we’re in one. We’d love to all say we’d fight, but who knows what we’d really do?”

“I guess.” I tried to be agreeable, but I wasn’t so sure. I was still convinced that Addi would beat someone’s ass and ask questions about it all later. “What does the fawn one mean?” I asked as I pictured a baby deer in my mind.

“Fawn is when the victim becomes agreeable. Like they’re trying to defuse the situation with kindness. They’ll do anything to keep the aggressor happy so they don’t lash out any further. It’s a learned traumatic response.”

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