Page 100 of Sour Lollipops and Sweet Nightmares
The walls closed in on me as the lights brightened, making it difficult to see. Or maybe they had dimmed, I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that I needed to get away from Rachel and everyone else in this room.
“Georgia…” Rachel leaned over to speak in my ear. “Evan and I are going to go and get a drink. Are you okay here?”
Music pulsed through the floor and into my spine, making it difficult to hear what she said.
“What?” Had it always been this loud in here, or was my panicked pulse drowning out everything else?
“Evan and I are going to go get a drink.” She repeated louder.
I stepped back and nodded. If Rachel wanted to go off with that guy, that was more than fine. She should go and get away from me. Everyone should get away from me.
Rachel and Red Shirt walked away as sharp, echoing laughter broke out in another room. No one laughed directly at me, but it still made my shoulders lock. I shifted closer to the wall, trying to disappear in the shadows, where no one could see me, and I would be safe. But the room seemed somehow smaller and more crowded than it was five minutes ago.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to push away the overwhelming, heavy sensation and told myself that there was nothing to worryabout. I was fine. This was simply a party. It was no different than being in a full classroom.
But it was a lot different. I could feel everyone’s breath and smell the sweat in the air as my pulse pounded in my fingertips. My chest squeezed so tight that I couldn’t tell if I was short of breath or not breathing at all, while the bass of the music thrummed in sync with the panic coursing through my body.
A panic attack was coming. There was nothing I could do to stop it. I needed to find the bathroom.
Pushing past a couple making out near the hall, I made my way to the first door I saw, which was locked. The next one opened up into a closet, and the third was a bedroom. This was taking too long. My feet felt heavy, and my knees were wobbling. If I didn’t find a bathroom quickly, I was going to collapse right here in front of everyone.
“Georgia, get back here.”
I didn’t know who that was or why they sounded so angry, nor did I care. The chances of someone actually calling out for me were very small. My head was so light that I couldn’t be sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me.
When I opened a door at the end of the hall and found a dimly lit bathroom, I wasn’t concerned with what I may or may not have heard. That small room was all that mattered.
I quickly slipped in, closed the door, and fell back against it to try to control my breathing. It was quieter in here. I felt like I had a buffer between me and everyone else, but party noise still seeped in under the door.
Closing my eyes, I sucked in a deep breath.
Get it together, Georgia. This bathroom is not the place you want to have a breakdown.
I stood there breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth and somehow wound up clutching onto the edges ofthe sink. I don’t know how I got there, but I wasn’t going to let go any time soon.
“Georgia.” Someone banged on the door.
My throat was too dry to respond, nor did I want to. I didn’t care who was out there. I only cared about the cool ceramic sink in my grip, keeping the ground solid under my feet. Nothing was going to make me move from this spot. Not even the sound of the door opening, or the male voice that followed.
“You think you can hide from me?”
I was hiding from everyone, not just him. Whoever he was. The ridicule that typically came after a panic attack was almost worse than the attack itself.
“If you think you’re being smart leaving the house looking like that…” I felt a hand grip my upper arm. “You’re sorely mistaken.”
That deep, gravely tone set off an alarm somewhere in the back of my mind, but the erratic beat of my heart pulsing with panic through my body quickly drowned it out.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” The hand tugged on my arm, but I stayed firm and gripped harder onto the sink.
My hold was so tight that a dull ache crept its way up my arms, but I couldn’t let go. My body was no longer under my control. I was trapped in the quiet hysteria coursing through my system. I couldn’t even twist away from the fingers digging into my arm, despite the fact that I knew the person in the bathroom with me was Issac.
The only thing I could do was croak out a weak, “Go away.”
But Issac didn’t go away. His hold on my arm did loosen up, however.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
That felt like such a loaded question.
