Page 44 of The Hookup Situation

“Shit, he’s having a panic attack,” Jeremy deduces, coming around the bed to kneel in front of me while Colby takes a seat on my bed, naked ass and all.

“I can’t —-” I gasp, gripping my throat, feeling like I’m suffocating as even more tears slide down my cheeks. I cough again.

“Yes, you can,” Jeremy tells me. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Fuck, I’ve never experienced this before and it’s terrifying.

“Breathe,” Colby instructs, rubbing my back with his big hand. “You’re okay.”

Jeremy takes a deep breath in, holds for a few seconds, and lets it out. “Do it with me,” he says.

Another deep breath, hold, let it out.

Another. And another.

“You’re okay,” Colby says again. “I’ll be right back.”

I keep breathing with Jeremy, focusing on him.

“Here,” Colby says, returning and handing me a fewSourPatch Kids. “Suck on these. It will help.”

I’m skeptical, but I shove them in my mouth and keep breathing. Somehow the sour candy does seem to be working, along with the breathing, and Jeremy’s hands on my knees, Colby’s on my back rubbing in small circles.

“You’re okay,” Jeremy says again, and I can see the relief in his blue eyes as my breathing returns to normal.

Shit. I’ve never had that happen before, and I have never cried like that before, either. Whatever I’ve been feeling all these years, I’ve been bottling it up, and it’s like a tidal wave sweeping over me now.

“You wanna talk about it?” Jeremy asks.

I shake my head. “No, I’m okay. Thank you, though. Really. I’m kinda embarrassed.” My cheeks flush and I wipe my eyes.

Colby shakes his head. “Don’t be. Lots of people have anxiety or panic attacks. I do. That’s what these are for.” He holds up the candy. “Shifts the body's attention to the sour taste and engages the parasympathetic nervous system.”

I eye him.

“Helps you calm down,” he says, and I nod.

“You sure you’re okay?” Jeremy asks. “You wanna drink some water, maybe? Call someone. Sometimes it helps to just talk.”

“I’ll get water,” Colby says, and dashes away again.

“Thank you,” I tell Jeremy. “I didn’t even realize you guys could hear me. Sorry if I woke you up or anything.”

“Don’t worry about it. My little brother has panic attacks so I’m used to them. You sounded really upset. We heard you crying.”

My flush deepens. “Yeah, just stressed I guess. Long week.”

I don’t think he buys it, but he doesn’t press me. Colby returns with the water and I assure them both that I’m okay, though I’m still feeling a bit shaky and upset. It gets them to leave though, and I fall back on my bed again, thoroughly horrified at what just happened, despite how kind my roommates were about the whole thing. We’ve lived together for a while and we get along fine, but we’re not close. Sobbing and shaking, and gasping for air in front of them was mortifying.

My chest heaves and a few more tears trickle out. I have a feeling this isn’t going to be the last time I unload like this, but for now it’s over.

I reach for my phone to try and distract myself from the ache in my chest. It feels like there’s thousands of tiny pin pricks all over my skin and I’m sick to my stomach, so I know I can’t sleep.

But instead of scrolling through social media I find myself calling the only person I want to talk to right now.

I’m not sure he’ll even pick up because it’s so late, but he answers on the first ring. His gentle voice over the phone is like a balm to my aching heart. “Hey, Tinkerbell, I thought you would be asleep by now. You’re supposed to be resting that gorgeous voice. What’s up?”

I just had a panic attack. It scared the shit out of me. I’m lonely and I need to hear your voice. My parents don’t give a shit if I come home for Thanksgiving or not. In fact, they probably would rather I didn’t, but they don’t want to tell me that because that would be admitting they don’t care. I wish you could touch me right now, I think it would help.

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