Page 8 of Give Me a Shot

“I owe you—”

“Nope,” Mo said. Jess had surprised him by speaking so quickly once Ned was out of earshot. Based on her expression, he’d surprised her, too. She tilted her head to one side, assessing him.

“What do you mean, ‘nope’?” she asked. He shrugged.

“Don’t owe me anything,” he said.

“But I could have…seriously injured you,” she said.

He rocked his can of sparkling water back and forth a little, to see how much was left. She’d better understand why he wasn’t upset if he spelled it out for her. But he couldn’t do that. He was too raw from being in the room for hours. If he talked about what he imagined she’d felt, it might be too painful for him to handle. And he didn’t want to bring it up in case it caused her discomfort in such a public place. He knocked back the rest of his water.

“You didn’t,” he said.

“But…” She glanced to the side, her eyebrows drawn together. Maybe the plain facts would help her see it from his perspective.

“Woman. Alone. Night. Intruder,” he said. He started to go for more water but remembered there wasn’t any left. “Gonna get another,” he said, raising the can as he turned and walked to the end of the refreshment table.

“Uh…okay,” she said to his back.

—

As he was reaching for a fresh can, he realized that he hadn’t kept his word to Ned to keep Jess company. He started psyching himself up to go back when a hand clapped onto his shoulder.

“Mo, just the man I was looking for.”

For whatever reason, jumping from shock or growling low due to frustration was never enough for some people to understand how very much Mo hated being touched unexpectedly. Even when he’d pushed through the discomfort of being vulnerable and had outright said he didn’t like it, some people still plowed through his boundaries. Until there was some way for him to blast the liquid fire that spilled across his skin, along with the sharp seizing of his heart, back onto the offender, Mo didn’t know if he’d ever get the message across.

Scowling, Mo turned to face Doug, the Folk School’s Community Relations Person/Resident Pain-in-the-Ass/Serial Touch Offender. Doug jumped back, laughing awkwardly.

“The touching,” Mo muttered, scowl firmly in place as he crossed his arms and stood at his full height.

“Oh, yes, sorry,” Doug said, shoulders falling a bit as he tilted his head to make eye contact with Mo.

“Been over this.”

“Yes, yes, you’re right. Again, sorry. I’m just so excited about this Ren Faire project! Wendy asked me to come find you.”

Mo raised an eyebrow.

“She wants to talk to some of the teachers in the break room.”

Glaring at Doug one more time, Mo stepped around him to go find Wendy.

—

Walking down the quiet hallway and distancing himself from the loud activity of the barn gave Mo a delicious chance to breathe. He knew he had a bad habit of not breathing fully in agitating situations and that he should remind himself to take deep breaths, to give his central nervous system the opportunity to regulateitself, but he always forgot. It was only once he found himself in the quiet that he was able to relax and let the air wash away the sharp sparkles tensing his muscles. The calm let him feel safe and like himself again. Crossing the threshold into the break room, Mo felt his calm shatter as he heard Ned’s question.

“How much financial trouble are we talking?” he asked. He was leaning against the counter beside the sink and looking at Wendy, who’d taken the seat at the head of the table. Lana and Eric, the millinery and textiles teachers, sat on one side of her, Alex and Maryline, the woodworking and food-smithing teachers, on the other. A young man Mo didn’t recognize was leaning against the pop machine with his hands jammed into his front pockets.

Wendy took a deep breath, sliding her hands down the arms of her chair.

“All the trouble,” she said. “Our long-term benefactor died, and his son thinks their charitable contributions should go elsewhere. If this Faire doesn’t work, we are S-O-L. We’re going to have to close shop.”

Mo hated roller coasters. The feeling of his stomach dropping during the falls shot an electric charge all through him that took a very long time to clear. The sensation that reverberated through him at Wendy’s words was the same, but worse. There was a drop, then a blast, followed by a choking sensation so strong he couldn’t swallow.

“So this Faire isn’t just a good time, then?” Maryline asked.

“Nope,” Wendy said, leaning forward and resting her palms on the table. “That’s why we need all hands on deck. I need each of you to help us plan and to participate in the Faire itself because you all have skills that should bring in the crowds.” She paused, glancing down at her fingers as she tapped them on the table. “Some of you more so than others.” She glanced at Ned and then at Mo.

---